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*Looks At Coffee He Is Holding...*
Jan. 5th, 2006 01:25 pm...my friend, I have seldom needed you more than I do right now.
For one reason or another, well over ninety percent of the world are cock-sucking assholes. It's just a very, very select few of use who actually have our fingers pulled far enough out to make up the difference and ensure the survival of the human race. The fact that I currently fit into the keen minority, given my typical slackness and dislike of doing work, fills me with both despair and rage.
It occurred to me today that I haven't passed on the cheque that the society owes Angie in MechEng for producing the pink monstrosity and associated pink, incontinence-pad yellow, baby aquamarine and black mini-monstrosities BUSMS are using as their main poster thrust. Mortified, I rush over to the societies pigeon holes, where Aimée the WonderTreasurer (she does the service for something like five societies - very impressive) swore up and down that she would put the cheque for me......to find nothing there.
Something starts telling me that it's going to be one of those days.
Over to the VP SAD's office, where Laura confirms that nothing has come across her desk from BUSMS at all. She and I then double-team student finance, who confirm that they haven't received a cheque request.
It begins to dawn on me that maybe Aimée shouldn't swear so often. It's rude.
Laura has to go to a lunchtime meeting, so I head over to Angie's office to offer an apology and promise the funds as soon as Aimée gets back......to find that Angie herself has forgotten about producing them and had no record of having done so on her books. She proceeds to be delighted to hear she would have thirty pounds she wasn't expecting coming in soon.
*Finishes coffee. Crushes cup in malevolent and slightly disturbing manner.*
Having concluded that Aimée was probably a lost cause as far as getting back in time to pay print services for the mass-produced set of our posters - the ones that were meant to be posted all over town on Wednesday but they won't realease until they're paid...sounds reasonable to me - before the students come back, I resign myself to having to do it via the internal invoice system that I hate, and go and ask them if that would be alright. Very happy at finding a way to finally get these several thousand sheets of paper out of their hair, they point me at the person to go and fetch a print requisition form off, and prepare to release the job lot to me.
At which point I find the the guy is at lunch.
At which point I go and buy coffee and follow suit. They've all waited this long - what's another hour between assholes?
For one reason or another, well over ninety percent of the world are cock-sucking assholes. It's just a very, very select few of use who actually have our fingers pulled far enough out to make up the difference and ensure the survival of the human race. The fact that I currently fit into the keen minority, given my typical slackness and dislike of doing work, fills me with both despair and rage.
It occurred to me today that I haven't passed on the cheque that the society owes Angie in MechEng for producing the pink monstrosity and associated pink, incontinence-pad yellow, baby aquamarine and black mini-monstrosities BUSMS are using as their main poster thrust. Mortified, I rush over to the societies pigeon holes, where Aimée the WonderTreasurer (she does the service for something like five societies - very impressive) swore up and down that she would put the cheque for me......to find nothing there.
Something starts telling me that it's going to be one of those days.
Over to the VP SAD's office, where Laura confirms that nothing has come across her desk from BUSMS at all. She and I then double-team student finance, who confirm that they haven't received a cheque request.
It begins to dawn on me that maybe Aimée shouldn't swear so often. It's rude.
Laura has to go to a lunchtime meeting, so I head over to Angie's office to offer an apology and promise the funds as soon as Aimée gets back......to find that Angie herself has forgotten about producing them and had no record of having done so on her books. She proceeds to be delighted to hear she would have thirty pounds she wasn't expecting coming in soon.
*Finishes coffee. Crushes cup in malevolent and slightly disturbing manner.*
Having concluded that Aimée was probably a lost cause as far as getting back in time to pay print services for the mass-produced set of our posters - the ones that were meant to be posted all over town on Wednesday but they won't realease until they're paid...sounds reasonable to me - before the students come back, I resign myself to having to do it via the internal invoice system that I hate, and go and ask them if that would be alright. Very happy at finding a way to finally get these several thousand sheets of paper out of their hair, they point me at the person to go and fetch a print requisition form off, and prepare to release the job lot to me.
At which point I find the the guy is at lunch.
At which point I go and buy coffee and follow suit. They've all waited this long - what's another hour between assholes?
