Yesterday my supervisor, LJB, told those of us on the night shift that because our “new” building has a bedbug problem (what the fuck? and ew), exterminators will be coming in over the weekend, and they needed us to be out of here by 8:30 on Friday night; could we, therefore, come in at noon instead?
No, I could not, I had an appointment at 12:15.
Okay then, how about if I started at my usual time and used some CT (compensatory time) to make up for the fact that I wouldn’t be working a full shift?
Fine, I said, while the homunculus that lives in the middle of my head started a victory jig — early release into a three-day weekend, woo-hoo!*
Then, this afternoon, I arrived to discover that, oops! Turns out they don’t need us to vacate, so we’re pulling a full shift after all! Have a good night!, LJB trilled, fleeing.
Fortunately, I hadn’t made any plans for the evening, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time in the English Text Processing Unit, it’s that my supervisor loves dangling the prospect of early release before us and then yoinking it away. Seriously, this is the fourth goddamn time this year. Still, while I am usually very, very grateful to have any job at all, never mind one with reasonable hours and decent pay and full insurance, tonight I am aggrieved to be here when I had expected to be at liberty.
Also, I just stapled my finger ow GODDAMMIT!
ETA: I’m working on a report of the S-G on the Subregional Centre for Human Rights and Democracy in Central Africa, and it is srs bzns, but I can’t help giggling a little when the phrase “President Bongo”** crops up.
* According to the list of official holidays for 2009 at UN Headquarters, Monday is Eid al-Fitr (observed). Go Islam!
** Late of Gabon. RIP.