Monday, July 23, 2012

Dippy Dorothy

I wish I had Dorothy's job.  Well, not her actual job, the ease of her job.

She comes in every morning and, after logging into her computer, disappears.  She'll return a while later carrying her coffee and laughing with the people she hangs out with out of the office.

When she finally sits down at her desk, I'm the most nervous.  From her office she can stare directly at the back of my neck.  My pretty sure she's sending me subliminal messages to quit.  We don't get along all that well.  I can tell by how she speaks to me.

Not only do I get crapped on at every opportunity but Dorothy doesn't even do her job.  Whenever callers ask to speak to a supervisors, which is often, we can't just forward her the calls.  Oh, no, we have to check first and see if she is free.  Most times we can't find her because she isn't at her desk.  And then even if she is at her desk, she'll say to tell the caller she is unavailable and that we should handle it ourselves.

One day, not long ago, I found out how much supervisor positions make at SAT TV.  It was sickening.  I get paid next to nothing, am highly in debt and am stressed out the wazoo.  But Dorothy, uggg, must be nice.

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