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2001-08-09-8:03 p.m. Today was Testy Sa Thursday. I came into work early today as I had a doctor�s appointment in the afternoon and I didn�t want to lose my overtime. Mere nanoseconds after I had logged onto my computer, my prot�g� began one of the favorites in her huge repertoire of things that annoy me: Questioning the obvious. The instructions for completing her task are written in plain English on the system. She also has them printed out and is holding them. Her Indian name is Tree-Killer. She is so named due to the extraordinary amount of unnecessary screen-prints she makes but I digress. We go over these a few times, spending about ten minutes exploring what should be apparent to anyone with the capacity to understand the written word. After a few more minutes of exasperating explanations, I said, in not the nicest tone, �This isn�t rocket science.� That kept her quiet for perhaps two minutes at which time there was more interrogation. We spent, all told, a good hour on something that should have taken less than ten minutes. At this point, I told our supervisor that I needed to talk to her and we went into a conference room where she gave me the go ahead to cut the cord. I told her about the inordinate amount of attention paid to the task described above and she informed me that the prot�g� had set that aside for the two of them to go over together later. Picture me banging my head against the table repeatedly with vigor upon hearing this. I returned to my desk, put my headphones on and set about ignoring her. I was able to pull this off for the better part of a quarter of an hour when she got my attention by whacking my chair with another one of her wasteful printouts. I calmly removed my headphones and gave her the full attention she so desperately craved, only to be confronted with yet another example of something we have gone over at least a hundred times. I�m certain that at this point I got a rather disgusted look on my face and I replied, �You are going to have to start using your resources. We go over this every day.� She responded, �Oh, okay� and I put back on my headphones and wasn�t bothered by her again for the rest of the day. I left early for my appointment so I am sure there was discussion between my prot�g� and the trucker�s daughter about just how much of a bitch I am. It just warms the cockles of my heart when I think of it! Stay Tuned for Revenge of the Prot�g�! **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
