Now I Know Why People Go "Postal"

And ya'll better be glad I don't work for the post office. At work I was working on something that I was TOLD was due January 16. I come back from Christmas break and it's "Oh - it's actually January 3." OK, fine, I'll deal. Since I work for the government, everything is an ordeal. My project was a 300 word abstract. Simple right? Just remember - government, people.

To get to these "simple" 300 words, I was forced to 1) look at some data - THAT I DON'T HAVE BECAUSE I NEVER WORKED ON IT, 2) interpret said data - EASIER SAID THAN DONE BECAUSE I NEVER WORKED ON IT, 3) run some statistics on this data, which is all fine and good, except - I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO WHAT YOU ASKED, and then 4) write these "simple" 300 words and submit to my boss for review (which means it will be ripped to shreds, left with 3 original words of my own, and rewritten by my boss for what SHE wants to say...about MY abstract).

Anyway.... I go to my boss to ask for the imaginary data and she acts surprised that I don't have it (NOT MY PROJECT PEOPLE) and then gives me a thick sheaf of Access printouts which I must now decode - which of course is after she told me the data is in our system - which it isn't. To decode this data, I now have to retype it in Excel and add some formulas so I can get one number instead of 800. Then I have to run statistics. Which I know how to do a certain type but I understood not one word that came out of her mouth on that subject - turns out SHE had a statistician write up a formula. Uh-huh. So I go to a colleague who has said formula. Now since I'm apparently an unschooled idiot with an IQ of 2, instead of just telling me what the formula is, I get a damn spreadsheet that she did for her data and an hour long "tutorial" - much of which is spent with her asking me if I knew how to use Excel. After managing not to bash her in the head with her own stapler, I take the data and the statistics and get to writing. Futile exercise, I know, but we must please the lions to keep from being eaten, no?

So I do all that crap and give it to my boss. Who promptly goes on vacation. But she finds time to e-mail and call. In short, in the whole week, I spoke to her more times than if she had actually been present. I get my revisions back from her. Now if I tell somebody I'm going to do something then I'M GOING TO DO IT. Do NOT keep calling to check on me. Do NOT send a colleague to ask condescending things about how I'm doing, where am I, or DO I NEED ANY HELP. NO!!!!!!! People I am NOT an idiot. I went to school. I did quite well. I even know how to write. Imagine THAT. *puts down knives*

So - because my boss decides I'm apparently too dim to understand anything she might tell me, she decides to come in on Friday. My early day. The day before a holiday weekend. A day in which, because she was nitpicking over ONE sentence, didn't end until an hour and a half AFTER I was supposed to leave. I was so ready to strangle her with my shoelace. So I managed to get the abstract done, in SPITE of these idiots and submit "my" words on time. Oh wow - lookit that. I'm capable! Who woulda thunk it? All I'm saying is if anyone even LOOKS at me sideways today we will have it out.