Frustrated and Fed Up
Written at 10:41 a.m. on 2006-11-24
Frustrated and fed up
I�m having one of those fantastic PMT days where keeping the PMT monster under control and stopping it from saying appalling things to people is a full time occupation.
At the moment I am trying very hard not to let the PMT monster make me say something rude to my boss. 3 and a half weeks ago I had an appraisal and I was telling my boss that I was going to buy a new car. No, she says, don�t do that, I�m going to ask the deputy MD when we got through the appraisals THIS WEEK if we can give you a company car in January. Lovely. Except that my boss is making the square root of no effort at all to actually speak to the deputy MD and get these things sorted. She claims she �hasn�t managed to get hold of him�. I�ve just walked past his office and he is happily sat in there, gazing out of the window and doing nothing in particular. So what is my boss doing? Eating porridge and reading a book. And she has spent this morning telling me about the lovely shiny new company car and sat nav she is waiting to have delivered. My frustration is reaching screaming pitch because I can�t spend any money at all from my bonus until I know one way or the other what is happening as if I am not getting a company car I�ll need the money for a new one. The PMT monster is trying to escape and make me tell my boss that I am getting the distinct impression that all the stuff she promised me to get me to stay was a heap of bullshit and in fact I�m still going to be stuck as the office filing bitch while everyone else swans around having a nice time and getting given free stuff. Must remain civil, must remain civil���.
And what makes things worse is that last night I was clearing photos off my phone and I found all the pics I took of my grandma and grandad�s house and garden as we were clearing it out the other week. This got me to remembering all the parties we had under the tree in the front garden, the time I cut my head climbing the hawthorn trees in the parkland across the road, the 80th birthday party in the sunshine of the back garden with all the flowers out and sitting on my grandma�s knee while she painted my fingernails pink. Now I miss them and realise that you never make the most of people because you don�t see how important they are till they are gone. It�s making me miserable.
Fuck it, I�m off to the car park to have a cigarette before I�m really rude to someone and I�m going to try not to think about my poor little car that needs 4 new tyres and that has had the same damn cassette stuck in the bloody cassette player for 4 months.
At least it�s Friday.
