Rant rant yeah!
Aug. 31st, 2007 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12Thing that annoys me #1
Training sessions at work.
Training Guy: So, what do you want to learn, Ronni? I can teach you anything.
Me: Well, I want to know all the code for laying out newspaper pages. At the moment, I can see when a page hasn't been properly laid out, but I can't do anything to fix it besides showing it to someone who knows the coding.
TG: Well, I can't help you with that, I don't know the codes, I haven't used Cyber (the filing and editing system we use on our paper) for years.
Me: (thinking 'Well, then, you can't teach me *anything*)Well, there's nothing more I wanted to know.
TG: What do you find most difficult about your job.
Me: (Thinking 'The fact that so many journalists are illiterate. The fact that one of them described Harold Godwinsson as a 'British king' and nobody but me realised that there was a problem with that (if you don't get why this is wrong, well, I'll forgive you, I suppose). The fact that there are certain senior journalists who write grammatically-correct, spelling-error-free articles, but in a style that makes me want to beat my head against a brick wall, and I can't say anything because they've been here for years and I've only been here for 8 months and haven't even been trained as a journalist. The fact that some journalists simply copy and paste stuff off the Internet and don't even bother to get it to match our stylistic conventions. The fact that we have two people doing a job that five should be doing'.) Oh, nothing really. Everyone's been really helpful.
******************************
Thing that annoys me #2
Last week I organised to have dinner at my dad's house. So today I got in to his house around 6.50pm. He normally gets in at 7.30. So, 8.00 comes around, and no Dad. I call him. No answer. I call his work. 'Oh, he was off today'. (I know that you fool, I thought, he wasn't on the 7.00 news tonight). I call my stepmother. No answer. I figure she's gone into labour - the only reasonable explanation why he would have just forgotten me like that.
Five minutes later he calls. He's in Melbourne. No baby. Just work - our Prime Minister is doing some pre-election vote-grabbing down there. No apologies from Dad.
So then it was 8.30, and I had no dinner, and no transport. The next bus didn't come until 9.01, and there was no way I was waiting around for it. So I bought some Vietnamese take-away, and caught a taxi. The taxi-driver was cool, he is a member of Bookcrossing which sounds really cool.
But I'm sick of being treated like a doormat because I am too shy to complain in public about the incompetence of others.
Training sessions at work.
Training Guy: So, what do you want to learn, Ronni? I can teach you anything.
Me: Well, I want to know all the code for laying out newspaper pages. At the moment, I can see when a page hasn't been properly laid out, but I can't do anything to fix it besides showing it to someone who knows the coding.
TG: Well, I can't help you with that, I don't know the codes, I haven't used Cyber (the filing and editing system we use on our paper) for years.
Me: (thinking 'Well, then, you can't teach me *anything*)Well, there's nothing more I wanted to know.
TG: What do you find most difficult about your job.
Me: (Thinking 'The fact that so many journalists are illiterate. The fact that one of them described Harold Godwinsson as a 'British king' and nobody but me realised that there was a problem with that (if you don't get why this is wrong, well, I'll forgive you, I suppose). The fact that there are certain senior journalists who write grammatically-correct, spelling-error-free articles, but in a style that makes me want to beat my head against a brick wall, and I can't say anything because they've been here for years and I've only been here for 8 months and haven't even been trained as a journalist. The fact that some journalists simply copy and paste stuff off the Internet and don't even bother to get it to match our stylistic conventions. The fact that we have two people doing a job that five should be doing'.) Oh, nothing really. Everyone's been really helpful.
******************************
Thing that annoys me #2
Last week I organised to have dinner at my dad's house. So today I got in to his house around 6.50pm. He normally gets in at 7.30. So, 8.00 comes around, and no Dad. I call him. No answer. I call his work. 'Oh, he was off today'. (I know that you fool, I thought, he wasn't on the 7.00 news tonight). I call my stepmother. No answer. I figure she's gone into labour - the only reasonable explanation why he would have just forgotten me like that.
Five minutes later he calls. He's in Melbourne. No baby. Just work - our Prime Minister is doing some pre-election vote-grabbing down there. No apologies from Dad.
So then it was 8.30, and I had no dinner, and no transport. The next bus didn't come until 9.01, and there was no way I was waiting around for it. So I bought some Vietnamese take-away, and caught a taxi. The taxi-driver was cool, he is a member of Bookcrossing which sounds really cool.
But I'm sick of being treated like a doormat because I am too shy to complain in public about the incompetence of others.
