I really need to rant.
Working for government sucks. Separating from a government agency, even more.
I had resigned about 45 days ago, but still, when I visited a while ago, my clearance was still not signed! Why? I haven't the vaguest why. According to the staff, I had some sort of requirement that was not submitted, yet not a single person from their organization could point it out. Neither did anyone inform me of anything. If this is regarding new problems they're experiencing in their network, I don't give a bull's ass. That's their problem.
The time records I had also made last December 2007 and January 2008 was lost, so instead of giving me options on how I could finish it, the staff just looked at me and said "we don't have a copy of your time records". I wanted to reply really badly with "Thank you for saying the f_cking obvious".
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Awwww
Why, what is wrong? One of your toys no longer working? You've been bragging about it for years and now it's suddenly out of order, you cry for my name? My help, my talents and goodwill? Which you've spat upon all these years?
In the words of Tony Stark: You can't have it.
In the words of Tony Stark: You can't have it.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Big ass crock
You wretched animals. You accept my goodwill only to spit in my face. What in the universe makes you think that I am willing to spend my time, limited resources and talent for a free lunch? Further goodwill and benevolence from the bottom of my heart?
Yet you still grieve me by witholding money still rightfully mine due to a bureaucratic process. Had you continued to pursue the endeavor to make the process electronic and grabbed cock when facing the problems encountered, I would not be covered up to my balls in shit.
I even tried to help your sorry ass when it was not faring so well by seeking alternatives. Your solution? Write it on a sheet of paper, just as things have been done for hundreds of years. Welcome you toad, to the 21st century.
If worse comes to worst, you can have that shitload of cash. Just expect nothing more from me than scarcity.
Yet you still grieve me by witholding money still rightfully mine due to a bureaucratic process. Had you continued to pursue the endeavor to make the process electronic and grabbed cock when facing the problems encountered, I would not be covered up to my balls in shit.
I even tried to help your sorry ass when it was not faring so well by seeking alternatives. Your solution? Write it on a sheet of paper, just as things have been done for hundreds of years. Welcome you toad, to the 21st century.
If worse comes to worst, you can have that shitload of cash. Just expect nothing more from me than scarcity.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Not if your life depended on it
I have epilepsy. For several years already, actually. I didn't ask for it, but heaven saw it fit to gift me with excessive neuronal activity in my brain. But I'm done complaining about my situation. I now see it in the words of William Ernest Henley:
"My head is bloody, but unbowed"
I'm taking medication for it though. Trileptal. The dosage has varied through the years, but I'm on the decreasing slope now. I still have to take it daily though, no very late night gimmicks and no getting up too quickly from bed upon waking up as my brain still thinks it's sleeping. In other words, college sucked.
Today, I went to Mercury Drug to buy some medicine. As I did throughout all my purchases, I took out my prescription note and money to pay. When it was my turn, the pharmaceutical attendant read my prescription and said "where's the other one?"
Me: What other one?
PA: The one for 600mg. This says 300mg.
Me: I don't have one. My doctor told me to just say I need the 600mg tablet because I need to cut it. My doctor put that note at the bottom. See?
PA: Cut it for what? It says here one and a half twice a day.
Me: Look at this. It's basic fractions. One and a half of 300 is 450mg, my morning dosage. To do that, I have to break this tablet into 4 pieces, which basically guarantees that a good part of it is wasted because you can't cut it cleanly without pulverizing it.
PA: I'm still not giving you the 600mg because--
Me: Call your manager. Now.
PA: (calls manager)
Me: Is it your policy to not give medicines that are not written in such a format as this?
Mgr: Yes
Me: Even if the person's life will depend on it in a few hours?
Mgr: (thinks)
Me: I guess not. What's your name?
At that point, the manager just signaled to the assistant to get me the medicine. They saw it as just another person who walked away with a bunched of tablets. I walked away with my life.
"My head is bloody, but unbowed"
I'm taking medication for it though. Trileptal. The dosage has varied through the years, but I'm on the decreasing slope now. I still have to take it daily though, no very late night gimmicks and no getting up too quickly from bed upon waking up as my brain still thinks it's sleeping. In other words, college sucked.
Today, I went to Mercury Drug to buy some medicine. As I did throughout all my purchases, I took out my prescription note and money to pay. When it was my turn, the pharmaceutical attendant read my prescription and said "where's the other one?"
Me: What other one?
PA: The one for 600mg. This says 300mg.
Me: I don't have one. My doctor told me to just say I need the 600mg tablet because I need to cut it. My doctor put that note at the bottom. See?
PA: Cut it for what? It says here one and a half twice a day.
Me: Look at this. It's basic fractions. One and a half of 300 is 450mg, my morning dosage. To do that, I have to break this tablet into 4 pieces, which basically guarantees that a good part of it is wasted because you can't cut it cleanly without pulverizing it.
PA: I'm still not giving you the 600mg because--
Me: Call your manager. Now.
PA: (calls manager)
Me: Is it your policy to not give medicines that are not written in such a format as this?
Mgr: Yes
Me: Even if the person's life will depend on it in a few hours?
Mgr: (thinks)
Me: I guess not. What's your name?
At that point, the manager just signaled to the assistant to get me the medicine. They saw it as just another person who walked away with a bunched of tablets. I walked away with my life.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Super villains
"You aren't given respect, you earn it."
So many times I've heard that phrase, yet I've consistently taken the hard way. It's not in your credentials, it's not how many toys you have, it's not who your parents were. It matters not how rich your are, what your position is in the company, or if you ride a Kawi 250. It's not about trying to please everyone either (you do that, you're everyone's b***h).
Sometimes however, getting that respect is like shooting a piece of paper a mile away with a Super Soaker 50. No matter how hard you try to be pleasant and professional, some people will act like brats because they want to be the star, not you. They want to stay in the limelight. They want other people to see that they're better than you because they got there first, they're older, or they've marked their territory and you're a threat.
I guess I'm at a point where people think I've outstayed my welcome or outlived my purpose. Maybe that's why I'm so at peace to leave. And so I leave what I called "my office" with the bitter thought below, paraphrased from Spiderman.
"And they found you amusing for a while, the people here. But the one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fail, fall, die trying. In spite of everything you've done for them -- eventually -- they will hate you."
I achieved hero status when I started. It was good while it lasted. Now, I'm just another staff member who quit after the expected three-year turnover in this office, just like my predecessors. And yes, they go into greener pastures and achieve greatness. Maybe that's where Green Goblin was right in the end, "why bother?"
So many times I've heard that phrase, yet I've consistently taken the hard way. It's not in your credentials, it's not how many toys you have, it's not who your parents were. It matters not how rich your are, what your position is in the company, or if you ride a Kawi 250. It's not about trying to please everyone either (you do that, you're everyone's b***h).
Sometimes however, getting that respect is like shooting a piece of paper a mile away with a Super Soaker 50. No matter how hard you try to be pleasant and professional, some people will act like brats because they want to be the star, not you. They want to stay in the limelight. They want other people to see that they're better than you because they got there first, they're older, or they've marked their territory and you're a threat.
I guess I'm at a point where people think I've outstayed my welcome or outlived my purpose. Maybe that's why I'm so at peace to leave. And so I leave what I called "my office" with the bitter thought below, paraphrased from Spiderman.
"And they found you amusing for a while, the people here. But the one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fail, fall, die trying. In spite of everything you've done for them -- eventually -- they will hate you."
I achieved hero status when I started. It was good while it lasted. Now, I'm just another staff member who quit after the expected three-year turnover in this office, just like my predecessors. And yes, they go into greener pastures and achieve greatness. Maybe that's where Green Goblin was right in the end, "why bother?"
Friday, March 26, 2010
I digress
It's so hard to do something that requires considerable focus when all of a sudden you have to explain the basics to someone whose job it is to know such things. It's frustrating, downright a waste of time, and completely sidetracks you.
New things, I believe, should be introduced with a fair amount of detail. Things like what it is, how it fits in our lives and what applications it has all deserve some explanation time when being introduced. However, if that something is new to someone because of their ignorance, that's an entirely different matter.
Being completely oblivious to something already there for the last 10 years in one's field is just another way of saying you refuse to adapt to changes that would make your work better and help you do things smarter. Adaptation to change prevents one from moving into irrelevance and extinction, but when I think of it, I won't mind if some people end up in a natural history museum.
New things, I believe, should be introduced with a fair amount of detail. Things like what it is, how it fits in our lives and what applications it has all deserve some explanation time when being introduced. However, if that something is new to someone because of their ignorance, that's an entirely different matter.
Being completely oblivious to something already there for the last 10 years in one's field is just another way of saying you refuse to adapt to changes that would make your work better and help you do things smarter. Adaptation to change prevents one from moving into irrelevance and extinction, but when I think of it, I won't mind if some people end up in a natural history museum.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Dance around like an old fat sow
I started working at 2:30pm today. Yeah, 2:30 in the freakin' afternoon! Thanks a lot PLDT. Your services are as impressive as a sneeze trying to uproot a tree.
When I arrived today at work, I was informed by one of my colleagues that a technician arrived earlier and went back to get a new modem. Okay. He arrived about half an hour later with two units identical to our modem.
After fiddling around with our modem, he came to the conclusion that the reason was that the DHCP service on the modem was disabled. (For non-tech people, the DHCP service gives your PC an Internet address so you can go online and take quizzes on Facebook)
Being a network administrator for the past 4 years, I took a few moments to ponder that thought, then my brain said "BS in its purest form". He took a couple more hours trying to make up excuses (and in the process got intimidated by Mac OS X's terminal -- saying he preferred the "old style", Windows). Finally, around 2:30, he quit and told me he'd endorse it to the ISP's "techier" guys, whatever the hell that is.
Some people totally loooooove BS. I bet if there were pools built for that, they'd be wading there like old fat sows.
When I arrived today at work, I was informed by one of my colleagues that a technician arrived earlier and went back to get a new modem. Okay. He arrived about half an hour later with two units identical to our modem.
After fiddling around with our modem, he came to the conclusion that the reason was that the DHCP service on the modem was disabled. (For non-tech people, the DHCP service gives your PC an Internet address so you can go online and take quizzes on Facebook)
Being a network administrator for the past 4 years, I took a few moments to ponder that thought, then my brain said "BS in its purest form". He took a couple more hours trying to make up excuses (and in the process got intimidated by Mac OS X's terminal -- saying he preferred the "old style", Windows). Finally, around 2:30, he quit and told me he'd endorse it to the ISP's "techier" guys, whatever the hell that is.
Some people totally loooooove BS. I bet if there were pools built for that, they'd be wading there like old fat sows.