Crude language warning:
Long ago, before I began this blog, I had a pretty crappy job. I'll wait while you recover from the shock.
Anyway, I was nearing the end of the contract and had spoken with the director and all contractor funding was ending actually before my last day so there was no way it would be extended. I was fine with that. In this line of work, jobs end all the time. Sometimes it is personal, sometimes it isn't.
In the final two weeks, my manager freaked out and started approving the changes I'd recommended six months before. He needed six weeks worth of work done in two weeks. He forced the changes through without the testing I'd requested. Stuff broke. Stuff broke badly.
I was trying to fix stuff and he hovered over me. I hate that.
>Tangent - In my experience, there are two management styles:
1. Slave Master - This guy leans over his galley slaves, watching their every move and flogging them for looking around and plotting an escape.
2. Pirate Captain - Getting the job done is most important. He knows his crew can do what they signed on for and he also knows they can hop off at the next port (or sooner, the scurvy dogs) if they aren't having a good time.
Ahoy, Matey, End Tangent<
Anyway, as I'm honestly trying to fix the broken crap, and this guy is promising me junk. I don't need incentive. I'm doing my job. Then, he starts talking about extending my contract. I know this guy can't do that. I talked to the manager two levels over him, remember? I shook my head and tried to ignore it, but he pressed on. When he started talking about bringing me on as a full-time employee, when I knew there was a hiring freeze, I snapped.
In front of the other galley slaves I turned and called him a f*cker.
Okay, it wasn't that direct.
What I did was request that he not be a f*cker. That somehow makes it pre-emptive . . . Like kindly, well-meaning advice. Not so much with the name calling.
Sure. It infers that he was, in fact, being a f*cker. But it does not come right out and say it. Except that it mostly does. But he was seriously being a f*cker.
Anyway, after the crisis was over we never spoke of the incident again. Except the other galley slaves still sometimes laugh about it. Because he was being a f*cker. A lot.
So anyway that manager called me today and offered me my old job back. Full time. With benefits.
What the f*ck?
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