Other Duties As Assigned: Oy

8 Dec

Sure, we’re all supposed to pull our weight. Of course. I mean, it’s what a team player is, right? Oh, never mind that I do all of my own work–duties that were assigned to me, that were spelled out in my job description at the interview AND the orientation, what is expected of me in exchange for a biweekly paycheck, health insurance, access to the building, the use of a desk and chair, etc.

So I do my own work. Paper crap, fool around with various office machinery that apparently frightens some executive types. (Have you ever seen a grown man, all of 58 years old, afraid to push START on a copy or fax machine? I mean, he makes like one point five gazillion bucks per year and yet programming his outgoing voicemail is rocket science so he calls me–or you– to do it for him while he stands there looking sheepish in his Cole Hahn loafers. Beyond annoying.)

Oh gosh. I did it again. I started to rant about one thing and completely veered off about another thing. I’m a Rant Specialist. With sidebar issues.

Back to the program.

So anyhoos, where was I? Oh yeah, team player crap.

So like I said we’re all supposed to be team players or at least pretend to be a team player. But really, some people don’t know where to draw the line. Their workplace vision is blurred when it comes to their responsibilities and others’ responsibilities.

Case in point…The coworker who always, always needs help with things he/she doesn’t want to do. (I never name names Eileen so I won’t start now.) This person never seems to be able to complete certain tasks without insinuating the team aspect of things.

“Um, Jennifer, would you like to help me move some boxes to the storage room?”

She stands there at the opening of my cubicle all smiley and cheerful as if she’s just asked me to join her for lunch, a pleasant experience involving delectables, a fizzy drink, dessert perhaps.

Dude, you just asked me to perform labor, as in physical labor. I’m wearing pumps and nylons and a pencil skirt that I can barely fit into, for crying out loud. Why in the world would I want to assist someone while at work IN AN OFFICE JOB (not a warehouse or a field where I expect to perform physical labor that involves back and neck and shoulder and arm and leg muscles) with lifting anything? (Not to mention when I have boxes or files to transport I just move them myself; I certainly don’t go searching for coworkers to make the task easier.)

I mean, I’m sitting here at my desk in a cushioned seat using only small muscles while clicking the mouse over ZAPPOS.com. Oh gosh, those boots are cue-yoot. Why would I “like” to stop this task and begin another more strenuous task that you’re supposed to be doing?

I’m tempted–oh so tempted–to suggest that she call someone in maintenance to help her. Someone who was provided with an ergonomic back brace thingy. But I remember I have expenses like an upcoming oil change and I still don’t know what that rattling noise is coming from beneath my hood…So I put on a team player smile and agree to help her move approximately six heavy boxes to the storage room.

‘Else she may rat out my epic fail of straining my back slash doing her work being a team player.

I swear, there’s a sheer art to faking it. It actually hurts my cheek muscles when I have to smile at people who vex me to the skies.


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