Tomorrow, I wake up when I wake up, and not an instant sooner.
The escalation manager called. I was, for once, neither at work nor asleep. I did sound somewhat unexploded, and I remained that way. Will ship off Thalia when I am damn well ready and not before. Let the woman know that e-mail is the preferred way of contacting me. The message on the answering machine that says so will be remaining. Got her to re-send her information, as I had not gotten it earlier. Am still too angry to talk in any depth about the issue, so did not discuss it with her. Writing is much better. (And no, John, further lectures on the topic of proper treatment of tech support phone goons Will Not Help Matters. At all.)
Work is welcome, after dealing with BOfD.
Pink Shirt Guy called me into the office when I got there. He told me about my promotion. I was gleeful. I'd heard that this was in the works for a while, but it was nice to actually get promoted! Homie G, Trendy Chick, and few other people got promoted at the same time. I got my annual raise a few weeks ago; now I get a supervisor raise too! Glee!
I checked my e-mail, and found that our guru had modified one of the programs (the problematical one!) to spit up job number, ID number, and zeroes where appropriate, instead of no job number, no ID number, and blanks instead of zeroes. Oh, and drag up the job that gets stored in three-month blocks instead of one-month blocks as one-month blocks. Further glee!
The sheer glee was short-lived, as I holed myself up in the cavernous training room and buried my head in Queen Bee Monitor's spreadsheets, in hot pursuit of the numbers. I emerged two hours later, spitting, snarling, and ready to heave large and heavy objects at my predecessor's soon-to-be-pre-deceased head.
There are statistical obscenities in that thing. Obscenities. I plan to have words with and/or at Management and make it plain that they will not be repeated in the name of duplication. For that would be Bad.
I held an up-training class after we'd done the lunch thing. Apple sauce, as good as it is, is not a complete breakfast if I am going to be doing the brain thing. I had been expecting twelve people; only six were in and were able to be found. It was a rousing session, with discussion about what some people would like to do to some of the clients who provide rather unfortunate survey design.
I reviewed some individual stats after the session proper was over. I like being able to write ad hoc
queries, and/or modify existing queries to get what I need out of the database. It was a delight! There was sarcastic commentary over my shoulder; the phone goons understand that this is a project under development. (I am gaining reputation points in this fashion.)
Talked with Stressy College Chick about the latest Leftover Leftovers Issue. Made the appropriate analogy involving the KKK; she allowed as how that sort of thing would be mighty disturbing. Communication? What's that? (My satellite manager had evidently not had words with his, so I had the words myself, see.)
Ikea later on today. hcolleen
says that smmc
needs to give me the hairy eyeball at each proposed purchase of mine and ask me, "So where are you going to put
that?" Obscene answers are evidently not acceptable answers for these purposes.
I must remember to call Darkside, for he will surely want to hear about me vs. the spreadsheets. I can't wait until it's switchboard time.