Feelings of Frustrations

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Following on from my recent post about how lazy I’ve been with my writing, there’s been another thing that’s been bothering me – my job.  Or more specifically, how I’m treated at work.

After 4 years, I’ve basically gotten to my breaking point with this place. Not only am I basically left alone to completely run our department myself (the ‘site supervisor’ rarely comes into the office or calls me’), but I’m also the only one from my division not working out of head office.

The rest of the regional office I work out of is full of another division, and is mostly made of up of ex-tradespeople turned supervisors/managers.  So needless to say, they’re not the most professional office-wise.

But because of this situation, I’m literally cut off from both those around me and those within my division at head office.  I work completely alone (with occasional assistance from head office when they feel like it), and the rest of the people in the office tend to ignore me or forget I’m even there.

It can be quite lonely at times, especially as my phone rarely rings (work is mostly email based), and it be nice just to have someone to chat to as I go about my day.

The ignoring got to an all-time low last week – I’d just returned from an extended weekend break in Naples (Italy), and not a single person in the office asked how my trip was!!! 

Instead, they were all fawning over this girl (my old colleague before she got moved last year) who had just returned from a drug-fuelled weekend in Ibiza… who had been off the same three days I was.  They kept asking her about the parties she’d attended, raptly listening to her funny stories of things that happened, and laughing at how strung out she still looked after being back a couple days.

I literally sat there most of the day absolutely livid and wondering if I was just imagining things. I came very close repeatedly that day to yelling out ‘I enjoyed my holiday too, thanks for asking!‘, but I restrained myself.  Somehow.

Perhaps they’d just thought I’d been off sick (even if I’d said the week before I was going away..), but even so then shouldn’t someone at least have asked if I was feeling better?

The funny thing is I don’t really care what these people think of me.. or at least I shouldn’t.  It’s not like I’d ever be friends with any of them outside of work, or even have much in common with any of them.  I should just ignore them as they do me (I regularly get missed out on coffee runs).

In fact there have been times over the years where I’ve literally cringed when I’ve heard some of them talk, be it about politics, vocalising their overt trans or islamophobia, or just their general cluelessness about the world around them.

I suppose a lot of it comes down to the pure liberalism of how I live my life, and how that really doesn’t fit into those I work amongst (I literally was the only one in my office to vote ‘Remain’ during Brexit..).

I keep telling myself I need to start looking for a new job.. and I really do after this incident.  How can I keep working in such a toxic environment?  My boss can’t (and wouldn’t) do anything about it, cause what can he really do?  ‘Make’ them talk to me like I’m in grade school?

Besides, he doesn’t even work in my office.. and never comes to visit.

*Sigh*

Yeah.. I need to look for a new job where I’m more part of a team, and where people actually interact.  Where it isn’t a matter of piling everything onto me to complete (single point of failure..), and the workload is shared.

If only it was that easy and simple.

The Stress of it all

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This has been one hell of a stressful week, and I just need it all to go away, or be resolved or something.

As I mentioned in my last posting (The Secret’s Out), my friend James and I are trying to get approval for a flat near Victoria Station, and I was advised I’d need a guarantor for my portion of the rent since I’m on a temporary contract at work.

The problem now is I don’t know for sure if my dad will actually do it for me.  He’s never been very comfortable giving out his personal details, and I found out yesterday, in order for him to be my guarantor, he’d have to give out banking information to the estate agent’s/reference processing company.  I’ve sent him a couple emails explaining the entire situation, but I honestly don’t know if he’ll do it for.

To be honest, it be a tad odd if he didn’t.  I’m sure he’s helped out my older 2 sisters at some point, and I know he’s offered my younger sister to be a co-signer for a mortgage when her and my brother-in-law were looking into it last year.  What makes it different, the fact that I’m single, living in London, or that I’m gay.  Not sure ..

All through Friday, I was constantly checking my email on my iPhone, waiting patiently for the estate agent to send me the form for my dad.  And as I write this on Sunday afternoon, I am STILL waiting.

When I spoke to him on Friday, he said he’d like to get all of this sorted over the weekend, so we could just concentrate on moving in, and I’d love that too.  If only he’d follow up on his word and get me the paperwork already.

I hate waiting.