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May. 1st, 2010 08:27 pm( Spoilers for Flesh and Stone )
Good lord, I'm tired. Work today was an unmitigated nightmare due to everything running behind from Friday so I had lots of people shouting at me; that said, I put the phone down on one lady not once but twice, so I felt quite empowered once I stopped shouting. To be fair, I gave her a chance. As she screamed that she wanted to speak to my manager, I said 'Look, I can't help you if you speak to me in that tone.' She screamed louder. I put the phone down. She phoned me back. I re-iterated that yes, I was Very Very Sorry, but I couldn't get the turf to her today. She started screaming (and by 'screaming' I mean 'the customer at the counter which is a fair distance from my desk and phone looked up in horror') at me again, so I put the phone down again. She didn't phone back. I cancelled her turf order out of a mild sense of malice. NO TURF FOR YOU EVEN ON TUESDAY SHOUTY LADY.
Anyway, with all that, I am very very tired now. I shouldn't complain, really, as Richie was here last night (and this morning, obviously) and has been to a job interview in Wales and not only is on his way back but I can't actually go and pick him up from Lime Street as promised because there are night engineering works all over Liverpool. So, um, I think I will take a pro plus and not complain about being tired when he gets here.
Today I have also bought an interview suit. I look bitchingly professional. That said, I should look bitchingly professional, the amount the bloody thing cost me. I nearly fell over at the till in horror. (It is from Marks and Spencers. I confess - I was tempted by the fact it was washing machine friendly.)
Good lord, I'm tired. Work today was an unmitigated nightmare due to everything running behind from Friday so I had lots of people shouting at me; that said, I put the phone down on one lady not once but twice, so I felt quite empowered once I stopped shouting. To be fair, I gave her a chance. As she screamed that she wanted to speak to my manager, I said 'Look, I can't help you if you speak to me in that tone.' She screamed louder. I put the phone down. She phoned me back. I re-iterated that yes, I was Very Very Sorry, but I couldn't get the turf to her today. She started screaming (and by 'screaming' I mean 'the customer at the counter which is a fair distance from my desk and phone looked up in horror') at me again, so I put the phone down again. She didn't phone back. I cancelled her turf order out of a mild sense of malice. NO TURF FOR YOU EVEN ON TUESDAY SHOUTY LADY.
Anyway, with all that, I am very very tired now. I shouldn't complain, really, as Richie was here last night (and this morning, obviously) and has been to a job interview in Wales and not only is on his way back but I can't actually go and pick him up from Lime Street as promised because there are night engineering works all over Liverpool. So, um, I think I will take a pro plus and not complain about being tired when he gets here.
Today I have also bought an interview suit. I look bitchingly professional. That said, I should look bitchingly professional, the amount the bloody thing cost me. I nearly fell over at the till in horror. (It is from Marks and Spencers. I confess - I was tempted by the fact it was washing machine friendly.)
