DRAMA. DRAMA. DRAMA.

I seriously don't understand why some people have to create so much drama around them. I don't understand the draw. The only drama I seem to have in my life is their drama. My life has little drama. Good, bad, or indifferent. Right now the only drama in my life (that is mine) is the lack of funds and having to deal with 8 freakin' weeks of the United Way campaign at work. Which, by the way, those two should never really go together. Like grocery shopping when your hungry - always a bad idea.

Last night at work, I got scolded for the schedule I made for the week. Apparently, I put slow people on the hematology machines and there was no work. Our resident drama/crazy queen decided to have a fit and claim that no one started her bench (and I was still tired from her shit the night before). Our boss called in sick. Someone stole the only working can-opener from the break room and I only found out when I had to open my can of chili. And the cherry on top was our chemistry analyzer had a "flood" and we had to play musical reagents.

I was forced to semi-socialize with Ms. Drama on Sunday night. She was trying to help me as she didn't have anything to do. I felt so damn lucky I couldn't see straight. I stuck both headphones in from the second I clocked in (which is against work policy; we're allowed one ear piece in, but no management on Sundays so the mice will play). I had been hoping this would deter her from speaking a word to me. Nope. As I'm rocking out to my totally awesome tunes, she keeps coming up to me to tell me things. I simply stated, "okay", as they were not things that required full and complete sentences. I got attitude from her. You know the whole drama-wanna-be-diva crap. I really wouldn't be shocked if she talks to our boss later, being as how in her topsy-turvy world, I am the one with the at-ti-tude. What really gets her goat is this: though our work is done, I actually still have things to do to keep busy. I have all sorts of little things that I don't necessarily have time to do during the week. I have very little actual "down" time. She had probably close to three or four hours where she was wandering around like a lost puppy. And she kept hanging around me. (insert scream of terror here)

Come Monday night, Ms. Drama is having issues because the person who is supposed to be with her on her bench called and said they'd be late. Claims no one started the bench. It's a pack of baloney and she knows it. I so don't understand how people can say that kind of shit to others when they know it's not true and it can be proved. How do people blindly believe that crap that comes out of their own mouths? Creating drama and just plainly pissing of otherwise content co-workers? All they do is make the work environment tense and irritable.

And getting in trouble with my schedule, well . . . okay, so I tried switching it up a little. There was no variety. People doing the same benches on the same days of the week. My boss says some people are slower on certain benches. In a few cases I know this to be true. One person takes their sweet-ass time on two benches because they're not being measured by how much they do. A couple people are slow on one or two benches because they're not comfortable with them. But in the case of last night, when someone tells me that Thing 1 and Thing 2 are really slow on X machines, and to not put slow people in the cell (our automated machine area . . . sounds great, eh?) . . . and I don't see it. In my humble opinion that no one will ever hear, simply because I'm a peon and I don't matter in the grand scheme of things, there are other things to consider. Don't schedule a person for cross-training on a Monday. Ever. If you're short, why do you still sit in your office doing God knows what for two hours instead of jumping out on the floor and helping out? I went to the CBC drop off table and saw lots of work on the table - no shortage there. So what was the problem? The person whose station I was using filled in on a machine since I was in her way. There were three people running three machines like they should be, so why are you whining? Turn-around-time was still met. Training still got done. Quit your bitching at me - it makes me bitchy in return. And contrary to popular rumor, I don't like being bitchy.

So after all that freakin' drama is when I find that the one and only properly working can-opener in the break room is missing. I was starving. I was in a bitchy mood from the drama. I wanted my chili and garlic bread (which I realized as I was prepping my lunch that I had forgot the garlic on my kitchen counter . . . sigh). Instead I had to use the piece of shit can-opener where you put it on the can, squeeze, move it manually, squeeze, etc. You couldn't turn the handle because the cutting wheel was tweaked and it wouldn't turn right, nor would it cut. Me? Not. Happy.

After finally getting to eat my chili and going in the cell to work with a couple people who can make me laugh, I finally felt half-way normal. As in, not as bitchy. Still irritated. And now that I'm home I can relax and put it all behind me.

Of course as I type this, I have a neighbor who I can't see because of trees that is possibly moving and has no idea how to drag a dolly up or down the damn stairs quietly. I am effing thrilled that I get to report that every 10 minutes this asshole is BANGING the dolly up and down the stairs. This? This is just one among many reasons why I love working GRAVEYARD.

I feel another pet peeves blog coming along.

And here goes that fucking dolly. Again. Someone may die before today's over. Death by dolly. Can't be pretty.