Anymore, it seems that Corporate America Exec’s are making dumb decision after stupid decision after fucked up decision.  The only common denominator seems to be the dicks between their legs.  Today seems to have grown into a “Bring on the assholes, stupid decisions and general what the fuck day” so I am inspired to swing my direction from relationships and dating and the comical clusterfucks of life and talk about this bullshit for a minute.  Let me get my shovel.

The economy is struggling to recover – so I get that beggars can’t be choosers and I am very grateful for having hung on to my job through the layoff of 8,000 or so folks at my company in 2009.  That being said, if our morale was any lower, we’d be digging our way to China and be half-way there.  How did it get to be this bad? It wasn’t just the layoffs – we were still ok, banding together, adapting our roles to accommodate the new workload with folks taking their exits.  But then, slowly, things started to change.

Penises were promoted to Managerial level or given significant pay increases (because Managers with vaginas wisely vacated the company) ….and these Penises have about as much leadership and accounting knowledge as first-year college students.  Penises get promoted to empty titles just for the pay raises and to pacify them for getting passed over for some promotions.  They don’t have to do anything more for the extra $30,000 they are now earning, they just have to shut up.  My three degrees seem to have no bearing on my leadership and knowledge-base because, well, you know, I don’t have a dick.  So, the promotion I was promised, congratulated on and then raped of prior to the layoffs was cremated and scattered over the now-barren parking lot. 

Let’s get back to our leadership – because we have sub-par area managers and a department “leader” who has a major Napoleon complex that seems to overwhelm his 5’5” frame, my own Manager has had to overcompensate for all the stupidity of the rest of the Management team and is now far-removed from his own department, working 15 hour days and weekends and people won’t hardly wipe their own asses without asking him if they folded the shit paper the right way.  Which means that the needs of the department fall by the wayside as office politics and shit management seeps its way across department borders.  What was once a well-oiled, productive department is becoming a clusterfuck.

Sprinkle in a bit of 100% Grade-A shit software in the Spring of this year and you’re baking quite the crap cupcake.  Nevermind that the staff people actually working on the implementation, training and would-be responsible parties for this software are telling Management and leadership that the software sucks ass and smells worse than a Donkey Kong pile of shit and should be dumped the very week of training/implementation.  What do we know?  We only have 5 fucking degrees and a CPA certification between the two of us – we have vaginas, therefore such knowledge gets discounted 75% by the Penises.  So instead of manning-up and telling the Jesus of our Corporate Trinity that the software sucks and we need to bail pronto, Napoleon, who has a fear of Jesus, decides to string along the project for six months, include a useless trip for four to Phoenix, daily calls with customer support, lost data, frozen laptops and every other software hiccup and fuckup just to finally find a set of balls and say “NO” in September to continue with the project.  And you thought morale and faith in management was low before the dreaded Canada project? I’d tell you to talk to the hand except it’s helping me load the gun I want to use to shoot myself after enduring all that bullshit.

Because Napoleon has a set of balls the size of Planter’s peanuts, when it comes time for the Global Corporate Finance Forum event, something that brings together all the key finance players across the globe for a week of news, training and networking opportunities, the vaginas of my area are cut from the invite list.  It doesn’t matter that we attended AND presented at the Forum two years ago, that we have contact with our Global community for our jobs and that everyone assumes we’re going to be there because, after all, we are External Reporting.  Nope – go ahead and let us get cut from the list while lower-level or comparable-level mindless Penises are invited and screw us just a bit more.  At least we vaginas have a bit of Penis on our side when some Managers who aren’t afraid of their own shadows express disappointment and disgust at the lack of fighting for our rights on the part of the Penises who manage us.

Then, because people aren’t disgusted enough with management, their jobs and the crappy Ohio weather, let’s go ahead and look around the floor of 60 or so individuals and decide that NONE of them are worthy of a new Management Trainee program and let’s hire our buddy’s daughter-in-law, complete in her Ann Taylor knits and stylish knee-high boots, and throw her into the mix but not tell her that you’ve just fucked over those 60+ people she has to work with.  Let’s completely clusterfuck the hierarchy of people on this floor and she can just report to Jesus and become his new pet. Simultaneously, let’s go ahead and let Jesus announce to the Managers that he’s no longer going to speak to individuals but, rather, ONLY talk to the Managers and make his requests through them.  As such, he can blatantly ignore all the personnel he used to speak to and act as though we are all invisible.

Since we’re not having enough fun, let’s go ahead and throw an HR person in our midst, give her an office and act as though that’s normal procedure.  Because certainly if I have a problem, I’m going to talk to the cellulite chick with the glass-door office so everyone can see that I’m having a problem.  Immediately add some distrust when she becomes best buddy with the Department gossip-bitch doesn’t-realize-he’s-gay sue-happy ultimate example of whiny bitch time-waster.  She then learns her proper place when they make an announcement of major organizational changes for the Finance Department and she had been kept completely out of the loop on that one – and she’s the HR rep for the Department!

Wonder why morale is so low when you keep making stupid Penis decisions, promote only Penises, stress that we need to keep tightening the belts (so no pay raises or bonuses for two years) and then send Napoleon to Asia for two weeks and $20,000 to work on an Accounts Payables system?  Please don’t ask why I am suddenly only working 40 hours a week and have taken on a part-time job teaching.  Because I will tell anyone who asks the same response my boyfriend had for my parents….”Because she had to find SOMETHING to do that actually made her happy.”

Keep the Penises happy, fuck the vaginas – because after all, isn’t that what vaginas are for? Fucking them?

 And you’re right back where you started! Think about it – think about where you work – can you identify the cliques? You don’t risk social ostracism now based on what “clique” you fit into, but you can definitely see the lines, right?  For instance – I work in “Corporate America” and in here are the cliques that comprise our Canton campus:

 The Brains – they know their stuff, they know the computer systems inside and out. And they have a very monotone manner of speaking, aren’t the most social bunch pretty much keep to themselves.

 The Geeks – Aren’t necessarily the brightest bulbs in the bunch but they do their jobs – they try a little too hard to come off as “cool” or “normal” and end up just coming across as strange annoying creatures of habit.

 The Jocks – compromised mostly of our Tax department, they are the runners/health food nuts.  Need a protein shake? Check their drawer.  Can’t find them? Perhaps they’re walking their two laps around the campus. They do have the best asses though.

 The Partyers – generally either very young or the administrative assistants.  Identifiable by their bed-head pony tails, heavy make-up and clunky jewelry, their morning greeting generally starts off with “Oh My God, you won’t BELIEVE what happened last night!”  You wonder what that crusty stuff is in their hair, shudder and then walk away. At least one of them has had at least one DUI (we have one who has had so many he now has to blow to be able to start his truck).

 The Hackers – also called IT department.  Computer geeks who hold the key to you having to reboot your computer three times a day or unlimited access to sites that are blocked for most people.  Same geeks who, if they like you, will not tell anyone that you have 100 unauthorized programs installed on your work laptop.

 The Heathers – now called interns because they are 21 year old little girls, most likely the daughters or nieces of Executives, getting some experience that will look on their resumes but let’s be honest, barely know how to install a new ink cartridge in the department’s printer and are there only for eye-candy purposes.  They have nice asses too, those bitches.

 The Freaks – typically are not the “grunge” freaks we went to highschool with but, rather, the adults that you really have to wonder if they live in a house with fifty cats, realize that some norms of society are totally justified or even own a mirror.  The woman who wears purple eye shadow; the fifty-year-old man with long hair half-way down his back.  The woman’s whose ass is so big you still can’t figure out how she fits into a non-handicap restroom stall.  The guy who looks and acts like the Unabomber.

 The Slackers – the mindless idiots who you can tolerate for maybe five minutes a day. They are social butterflies, accomplish maybe 10 hours of work a week, make mistakes constantly and then when you finally fix their problem, think that they did it all themselves, interject random tidbits “oh my 12^th birthday party was going to see Indiana Jones and the Temple of  Doom” when you’re discussing Egypt, will drive 35 minutes one way to get a sandwich for lunch but can’t seem to make it to work on time and generally just drive you fucking insane.

 The Independents – again, where I fit in.  We are generally intelligent, total smart-asses.  We’ll play the office politics to a point before we’ll just sit there and say “Fuck it!” and go out for a cigarette.  We get 80% of the work done for the office, get along with everyone but actually only like a few people.  We will sort of suck up to the Executives who sign the paychecks but then turn around and make fun of them as easily as we will the Heathers, Freaks or Slackers.  We have a very low tolerance for stupidity, feel that alcohol should always be in our Top Ten “Anything” List and realize that if we were to go to Las Vegas together, we’d probably never come back.

 So I’m going to subject myself to this crap purely for the reader’s enjoyment. I promise to document every email I get from a man, along w/ a physical description, as well as what he wrote and the highlights of his profile.  We’ll see what you guys thing of the prospects in wonderful Canton, Ohio after you see what kind of shit is actually out there.

 So here goes – and so you have the full picture, here’s what my profile says (and yes, I put no booty calls b/c I am a germaphobe and the last thing I need is 100 guys with crabs to be calling me for ass – I prefer to establish my own booty calls rather than interview them LOL):

 About Me

 Dating was not this hard in my 20′s – o yea, I wasn’t dating, I was engaged to my ex-husband in my 20′s LOL I’m a stable, fun, smart-alec, looking for the same LOL.

 We’ve all got skeletons in our closets – I believe in leaving them there – past mistakes/drama/oopsies have no relevance with a new relationship – it’s what u do NOW that matters, not what u did to someone else. I’m open and honest – I expect the same in whoever I date. I’m not a clinger, I like a healthy amount of attention balanced with a healthy amount of alone time. I’ve got a new personal trainer, I’m looking forward to transforming myself into a healthy, almost-35 year old woman with her whole life ahead of her. I’m not desperately lonely and will not be planning our wedding after our 1st date LOL

 So let’s see…. Some random tidbits….Love 80s music – and rock and metallica, kid rock, beethoven, country… Just about everything!I have a cat I love to torment.  I have 6 strategically placed tattoo’s I can spell supercalifragilisticexpealidocious I will cut my hair off on a whim and the color is always changing…I don’t lie or cheat – life’s too short for BS.  I love my family and am close to them without being suffocated. I don’t fit into any particular mold – my interests are far reaching and ever-changing…I love to read, I make a great breakfast while camping and crochet on the side (6 months on crutches, I was bored, it stuck).

 Wanna know more? Drop me a line!! Email me! Not looking for booty calls, please. I’m a curvy, confident, sexy woman, looking for a great match.

You should not go to work still drunk from the night before.  Besides wanting to eat everything in site, encountering an invariable shortage of water and coffee to keep you going, ten trips to the bathroom to shit your brains out and the inability to keep your balance in the stall and having to pray the stall walls can maintain your weight as you fall against them, you will hate yourself around 1:00 in the afternoon when the hangover sets in, you’re forced to go to two meetings and then start swearing to God you will never drink again if he will just make it 5:00 already.