Monday, May 23, 2011

I hate my managers, work, life in general.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will say that I don't truly hate them.  I hate the way they react to completely unimportant things that happen throughout the work day.  Every night, reports have to go to Corporate regarding changes in apartment status: if an apartment was rented, if an apartment was moved out of, etc.  Most days, there is nothing on these reports.  They are literally blank pieces of paper we initial to prove who's been working that day.   Yet they still have to be sent to Corporate.  Usually this means physically going to the offices and dropping them off in the manager's mailbox, but on days when there is no status change, they reward us by only requiring we fax the blank report.  I forget to do this at least once a week, but usually remember before work the next morning and either fax it as soon as I get there or text my site manager and have her do it for me if I'm off.  Lately, our corporate manager has been flipping out if these reports are forgotten and faxed at 10:00am, even though we don't open until 10:00am.  No one is even there to know the report is late.  But two weeks ago, apparently there was a meeting between my manager and the corporate manager I wasn't privy to, and the result was I got written up for forgetting to fax blank pieces of paper.  Never mind the fact that my manager falsifies her work hours every week because 90% of the time she is several hours late (case in point: we have been open for 52 minutes.  She is not here, nor has she called to explain why she's not here.  I mean, we are both on the schedule for 10-6pm today.) or leaves several hours early, and still claims and is paid for those hours.

Yesterday we all know I had to work.  I never work Sundays, as Dave is off most Sundays and we like to try to spend some time together over the course of the week.  Sunday is the last day of our week, so the culminating reports all have to go to Corporate.  These cannot be faxed; they have to be physically put in the mailbox for Monday morning.  I forgot them last night, but remembered this morning, so I left home early, ran to work and grabbed them, and had them to Corporate at 9:30.  I physically handed them to the person who inputs the information.  We have seven other apartment communities in our company.  There were seven other larger reports to enter into the databases first.  But at 10:05am, just after I'd opened up, Corporate Manager (CM) called to ask where the Sunday reports are.  I'm confused.  I handed them to the Community Info Lady (CIL).  She has them.  She's the one who needs them.  Why is he calling me?  Obviously she let him know they weren't in her box at 9:00am, but she had them at 9:30.  Why didn't he ask her before calling me?  I tell him I ran to work, got them, and brought them in at 9:30.  I apologize for forgetting them: I don't usually work Sundays.  I explain that I had to stay a half hour after closing because our phone lines weren't working and I couldn't forward the calls to our answering service.  I simply forgot.  He proceeds to read me the riot act about how this happens too often and it needs to stop.  I'm confused again.  Since being written up over blank pieces of paper two weeks ago, I haven't forgotten once.  I've been remarkably anal about remembering.  So I apologize again and he lets me go.

An hour later, Corporate calls again.  This time it's CIL.  She's going through the reports and sees that I had an application/rental/move-in on Friday: where are the forms? where is the escrow cash sheet for the security deposit? where is the check?  I put all of these things in a manilla folder and put it on the counter in the kitchen: like I said, remarkably anal.  I even marked it with her name, our apartment community, and Friday's date.  Did I not drop it off?  I find it on the kitchen counter with a huge box of Gevalia coffee on top of it.  Then I remember: I was helping a resident when UPS showed up and I told him to just put the box in the kitchen.  Then I obviously forgot about the paperwork.  I apologize to another person at Corporate, promise to fax it immediately, and swear to drop off everything tonight with the mail.  The doorbell rings: it's the resident who lives beneath the apartment that flooded Saturday afternoon.  He's been in D.C.  He just got back.  He is pissed.  I run damage control and attempt to simultaneously answer the phone, which rings three times with potential renters.  I finally get him out, run to fax the forgotten paperwork, and see that the answering service has faxed over the night's messages.  A/C is out in one apartment, tub is stopped up in another, and... wait.  A resident is complaining that the patio door replacement workmen just showed up at her door while she was lying on the couch, nude, attempting to sleep.  She works nights: she just got home and now she can't sleep.  I'm confused again: I sent out the notices last week to the people who were having their doors changed this week.  It takes several hours to do.  If people don't know about it, they get pissed.  What went wrong?  Phone rings.  Another resident is calling about getting a notice, but there's one problem: her door was changed two months ago.  Our cleaning lady (CL) walks in: the power is out in an entire building.  Great, another problem for our Maintenance Guy (MG).  Oh, and by the way, a resident moved out and left there key.  Great, more goddamn paperwork to send to Corporate.  Phone rings again.  Another resident, another notice, they've had their new door for two months as well.  WTF?  I find the maintenance log to try to figure out where we went wrong with the schedule.  I didn't do it, I just addressed the notices my manager left me... so it's her fault.  And if we remember correctly, she's pregnant, so she's a little wibbly in the brain department right now.  Okay, so she accidentally wrote down the addresses for this month in March.  Gotcha.  Manager calls, I explain everything that just went down, promise to fix it, it's all okay, and she informs me that she's taking a sick day and I'm alone for the afternoon.  Lovely.  Thanks for the notice, I didn't bring lunch, incorrectly assuming you'd be here like you're scheduled so I could run out and pick something up.  Thanks.  So I call the residents who are having their doors done tomorrow to notify them at the very least, call back the nude couch-surfer and apologize and explain, and then finish all the paperwork as quickly as humanly possible, when... the phone rings and it's Corporate.  Again.  I cringe and answer: it's CM again and he's looking for my manager.  I politely explain that she had an ultrasound to check for birth defects (she's in her late 40s and this pregnancy was a real surprise) and although I just spoke with her, she's still at the doctor and has the flu, so she's just going to take a sick day.  I'm immediately freaking out because I just know he's calling her to tell her to fire me over my horrible paperwork skills.  I call her back, give her the head's up, but he hasn't called her: maybe he needs to talk to her about a problem she's having with another manager at another site.  I know he wanted to speak with both of them.

Phone rings again: it's Former Manager (FM) who got a promotion to manage a larger apartment community for Corporate, so although she had just hired me (literally just.  I began on November 17th, she changed communities January 1st, and I got saddled with my current manager who had previously been an assistant at another site.)  They're changing out the windows in her office today, so her computer is down and she needs me to call her when the CAP Sheet (list of all our properties, the floorplans, and the apartment prices, as well as the price change (if any), the number of unrented and vacant units at each, the number of rentals the previous week, and the budget Corporate has set for any improvements at each site over the next week.  As you may have guessed, we're doing the stupid patio doors) comes over from CM and whether or not there's a managers meeting today.  Thankfully, this puts me at ease because I'm thinking CM is calling to tell my manager (oh hell, let's give her an abbreviation too: MM) that she needs to come in early or stay late so that he can address this issue.

(Okay, sidenote: here is what is going on, to the best of my knowledge.  Our Corporate owns eight apartment communities where I live.  Seven of these are pretty much on or just off one road.  The eighth is another city over, roughly a twenty minute drive away.  MM was the one of the assistant managers there before being promoted in January to our community.  She worked with two women, Tiny Passive-Aggressive Assistant (TPAA) and PsychoBitch Manager (PBM).  She also worked with her Adulterous Baby-Daddy (ABD) there.  He works maintenance for the community (GBW) and MM was in the office.   MM and her daughter also live in GBW, so not only is PBM her boss, she's also effectively her landlord.  MM worked here for seven years with a two year break somewhere in the middle.  PBM is the single white female type in her early 50s, and she had a crazy crush on ABD; PBM and TPAA are sisters-in-law; MM and ABD were friends for the entire seven years (and she has since stressed only friends for the first five, then the affair started).  Before the affair (BA) began two years ago, PBM and TPAA turned on MM and began spreading rumors throughout the company that they were catching MM and ABD hooking up in the office, that PBM had seen ABD leaving MM's apartment in the mornings and walking in at night, that ABD's wife was calling trying to find MM... you get the message.  These rumors were circling all through the company, even up to the owners.  MM went into Corporate for a meeting with CM and flat out denied everything, because at the time nothing really was going on: they were just friends at the time.  CM called in PBM and read her the riot act, instructing her to cease-and-desist on the rumors and to rein in her little lapdog in TPAA, or they were both risking their jobs.  Everything was settled after that.  I mean, because of the rumors everyone now thought that MM was a dirty homewrecking skank and ABD was a complete pig, but everything pretty much calmed down.  Well, in January when she transferred, MM filled me in on this history (which I had already heard from FM when she tried to prep me for MM's arrival) and assured me that she was not having an affair with ABD (lie).  We discussed it repeatedly, and after I met PBM and TPAA I was moderately convinced she'd been being honest.  Now let me interject here and tell you that over the course of her first two months here, she assured me that she was not having an affair with ABD at least twenty times, so when she began acting funny in March, I started to see the writing on the wall.  Then she dropped the bomb mid-month: they'd been having an affair for two years, his wife and son didn't know, they were happy the way things were... but now, she was pregnant and due in December.  Yuh oh.  I jokingly called her a skank and she assured me she'd still be here until she had to take off for the birth and such.  He was telling his wife and son shortly, and they were going to move into a three bedroom apartment in the same apartment community (completely stupid decision, they actually made the move over the weekend).  They were planning to get married after the baby came.  They were going to tell CM before the news got out and he heard the gossip.  And they were true to their word: they went together, they told him, and he congratulated them - no reprocussions.  She made the smart choice of filling in FM (okay, I love her, but the girl gossips) and everyone at least got the real story.  And then I got to breathe a sigh of relief because while I don't gossip, I also freaked out that I would get in trouble for failing to inform Corporate.  But I didn't, so yay!  Fast forward to now: MM is constantly missing work for doctor's appointments and because she has severe morning sickness, which has resulted in a lot of extra work for me, much of which I have never been trained to do.  CM has asked MM to make it clear to me that I have to be able to pick up her slack when she is unable to come in.  I don't have an assistant.  It's just me attempting to do my job AND her's.  She is constantly forgetting to tell me when she changes my schedule to suit her needs, which has resulted in three occasions already where I am scheduled off and have plans (such as doctor's appointments to manage my incurable disease (I have Lupus, it's really not as bad as it sounds)) and I am instructed to change the date of my appointment because her's is more important.  She is constantly scheduling us together, which I assume means she's planning on showing up to do her job, so I don't bring a lunch as I enjoy popping out to Wawa for ten minutes to break up the afternoon, and she doesn't show, so I can't leave to get lunch.  I have to eat.  Because of the Lupus I cannot maintain my weight very well, and when it gets low I begin passing out.  Seriously, I hit 111lbs the morning of the royal wedding, went to pee, blacked out, fell and smashed my head on the porcelain sink, ripping my ear half off and knocking myself unconscious in the process.  I went to work that morning, and the next, but needed Sunday to try to recover as I was still slurring, kept forgetting phrases, and was so dizzy with such a terrible headache I couldn't function.  Not to mention the ear.  She called Sunday morning, begging me to take her shift because she was spotting.  Not bleeding, spotting.  Which is completely normal in the first trimester.  So I said no.  She'd already abandoned me for most of the previous week, and I needed a day off.  The next morning, I got a phone call from her saying she was going to the doctor at 3pm, so I'd be needing to stay all day.  Oh, and she was running late and needed to go to the store, so she'd be in at noon.  I had an appointment with my thyroid specialist at 3pm, and these appointments are impossible to reschedule.  I told her this, but I was told to either bump the appointment to noon, so she could cover, or to cancel it and do it another day.  I got off the phone with her and burst into tears.  I'm legitimately sick: I have to make it to these appointments, but if I didn't move or cancel it, I knew she'd go crying to CM like she did the previous day because I wouldn't come in, and I got a lecture about making accommodations for her.  So I canceled it.  At 3pm, CM called an assistants meeting at another of our communities, but I had no coverage, so although I both called and emailed him, desperate for a little help, I still had no coverage at 2:45pm, when he called and told me just to shut down the office for an hour.  That afternoon, MM stopped by to tell me that CM had called her complain about me, and that I needed to be written up but she stuck up for me (really?) and said she'd just have a "little talk" with me about the infamous blank paperwork, my unwillingness to step in when needed (I took this to mean insisting I get a day off after 6 days of continual work with no assistance and no manager), and my general unawesomeness.  Great, whatever.  A week goes past, everything seems copacetic, when I get a text the following Tuesday.  It's 8:45am, Dave is getting ready to walk out the door, when I read the following: "Going into work.  Don't feel good.  You can come in and work if you want to!  :)"  Well, I don't want to.  I want my damn days off.  I worked Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and all damn day Monday so you could go out of town with your family.  I have to work next Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and all damn day Monday so you can move.  I have to come in next Wednesday on my day off so that you can "get a break for a bit" because I'm heading to PA for a wedding and Memorial Day with my family (sidenote of this sidenote: my Aunt Dianne is having it catered this year because my Uncle Angelo cannot be trusted with a grill.  This means lots of ziti, chicken francais, sirloin tips, italian salad and rolls for this girl.  Oh, and those yummy yummy parsley potatoes I love so much!) from Thursday to Monday (and the office is closed Monday anyway!)  So basically she has to work Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday once.  I've done that schedule the past month, plus Monday too!  And then I get my two days off if I'm lucky enough that you don't call out sick.  So I "laugh a text back," which is basically "LOL Yeah right!  ;)," but she isn't kidding.  At 2:30pm, just as I'm sitting down to a bowl of creamy tomato soup, a green salad, and a nice caramel latte at Panera Bread, I get a panicked text from her.  She's now apparently dizzy, vomiting, and miserable: can I please come in for the rest of the day?  She needs to get to a doctor.  Please keep in mind I'm only four days past a severe concussion, and I too am dizzy, nauseated, miserable, but not working as today is my damn day off.  This continues like this for roughly forty minutes until she promises to give me a half-day Monday but pay me for a full day; everyone has a price.  So I finish my lunch, call Dave and tell him about the change in schedule, run home to let the dogs out, and head to work when, lo and behold I walk into the model and there's MM, happily surfing the web, certainly looking nothing like I look when I'm dizzy, nauseated, and vomiting.  And she strolls merrily out of the apartment, leaving me with a thousand and one little tasks she's devised, and advising me she's "gonna try to feel better."  I'm livid.  I dropped my lunch, my free afternoon, my relaxation time, kenneled my dogs, and her only response?  "If I'd known you were doing something, I wouldn't have asked you to come in!"  ... What did you think I meant when I texted you that I was eating lunch at Panera, and that if I was going to have to go home, change, take care of the dogs, and then I could come in.  But it's too late now, I'm an idiot for believing her, and I'm stuck now.  At least I'll get money for Monday's half day.  The next morning, phone rings at 8am: she's still sick and needs to go to the doctor, can I come in and work today and I can have off tomorrow?  No.  It's Wednesday.  I haven't seen Dave for more than two hours in three weeks.  I am not coming in.  And besides, didn't you leave early yesterday so you could go see the doctor?  And why would I work a full day and take tomorrow off?  I can take today off and I only have a half day tomorrow.  No dice, MM.  So, when I waltz my happy ass in at two on Thursday, guess what's waiting for me: a nice, thick Corporate write up from CM, another site write up from MM, and the explanation is: I'm slipping up and not faxing/delivering the paperwork in a timely manner.  Blank paperwork, may I remind you?  And isn't it funny that these little "learning moments" seem to perfectly coincide with the days I refuse to cover for MM?  But it's okay, right?  Yes, I screwed up, but I have a nice four day weekend to get over it.  So Sunday... niiiiice.  Monday morning, I sleepily text MM to remind her that she's giving me the day off and paying me for the whole thing because I covered for her.  I slide out of bed, pour myself a bubble bath, and am just about dozing off when I get a reply.  No, apparently I don't have the day off.  I'm working from 10-2 because she needs to go shopping in the morning.  Um... what?  But okay, 10-2, I'll work a half day and get a whole day's pay.  Still, it's better than nothing.  So imagine my surprise when, at noon, an email appears from CM announcing an Assistant's Meeting/Training from 2-5:30.  Say what?  I'm working a whole day now?  And MM backpedals.  Wait?  Oh no, you weren't supposed to come in this morning!  Oops, I didn't understand your text.  My bad!  Catch you next time?  So that was two weeks ago, and since I have a wedding this week and have to go out of town, I'm taking off five days so I can see my family over the holiday; therefore, I have to pick up some of MM's days so that we can make it even... even though I've been working this schedule for three weeks and no one's giving me a few extra days off.  So I worked all weekend and today... though MM came in for an hour to bitch and lay on the couch and eat.    Now, as of 3pm, MM is at a manager's meeting with CM, and I am sooooo afraid he's going to tell her to fire me.  I'm hoping not, that he's just called MM in so he can keep her and PBM after the meeting and have it out with the two of them, because just last week as MM moved in with ABD, PBM started up again, informing everyone that ABD is running around and hooking up with other women and MM has no idea about it.  Should be interesting.)

It's just not my day.  I signed leases I shouldn't have signed, misplaced papers I should have filed, lost my phone, etc.  I'm just so off today, and I'm totally blaming it on that damn concussion.

I am just about thirteen seconds away from murdering someone.  A resident, our MG, Dave, my mother, I just don't know.  Thank everything holy that I have a day and a half to figure out what the hell my problem is as of 6pm tonight, and another five days coming up after a four hour shift on Wednesday.  I'm also getting a massage tomorrow at noon, so maybe that'll help.  Oh for god's sake, Corporate is calling again............