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May 15, 2002-5:40 a.m. It�s a fate worse than death, y�all. It seems that I have been sentenced to training on an aspect of the trucker�s daughter�s former job that she was supposed to be doing on her overtime. She ended up having so much overtime associated with her training-room duties that she couldn�t manage to work on anything else. Or so she now says. As you can well imagine, I am less than thrilled by the prospect, however, I am sure it will provide me with ample fodder to keep me in diary entries for a week. Luckily, I am only the back-up in this proposition. Neither the person who will be primarily responsible nor myself were TD�s first choice as her replacement. Ironically enough in light of this debacle, TD is claiming that the person who will primarily be doing this work doesn�t have the customer service skills required to deal with such sensitive negotiations. I feel confident that if witch cackles and hillbilly homilies end up being what is truly required, he�ll adapt. **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
