Home > Uncategorized > Mummaflippin’ Sandwich Day!

Mummaflippin’ Sandwich Day!

As mentioned before, I took a sideways promotion at work.  Essentially, I do all the troubleshooting with my boss, get to wear the stupid red Fire Warden baseball cap whenever the alarm goes off (with disturbing frequency, it seems), and listen to woebegone stories of Workers Compensation patients.

I heard through the grapevine (being the accounts lady with whom I share an office) that the boys (owners of the practice) are out of their recession slump.  Our chairs are sagged with the hydraulics gone and need urgent attention as we look like bedraggled semi-corporate Whack-A-Moles sitting in our seats.  We need to call someone in to repair some carpet work near the photocopier so that we’re not tripping over it daily, running the risk of falling face-first into the corners of our desks.  The practice needs to employ two highschool students to do the menial tasks so that the fully qualified can attend to in-house triage or, at least, hire one more staff member with a view to full-time work.  I desperately need more hours to pay the ever-increasing bills but shit, everyone needs that.  I’ve made some loose plans through work to go into study which is what I’ve wanted to do since the day I left home but haven’t had the opportunity.  Now that The Kid is older and a little more independent, I find my time opening up to the point where study can actually be a possibility.  Unfortunately, the guys at work cannot pay for me to study at this point but I’ve heard that if I hang around for another 5 – 10 years (WTF), they can re-assess their finances.  It looks bleak, seeing as I’m also the Personal Assistant to one of the partners of the practice, the one going through a malicious divorce and is shuffling practice money around to survive, so I know exactly where the money sits for both the immediate and long-term future of the practice.  Gah. 

So what do I ask for above all else?  A Sandwich Day.

I knew this was a risk to take, as it didn’t just mean sandwiches.  See, a few years ago, there was an almighty exodus in our practice where two essential workers had had enough and, prior to their explosive exit interviews, the owners attempted to quell the fires by hosting a sandwich day.  Catering was organised and sandwiches as far as the eye could see were placed in our not-right-now-but-spare-at-the-time dental surgery.  Gourmet sandwiches overflowing with grilled seasonal vegetables, lazy tongues of meat poking out of bready blankets and spicy sauces.  The downside was that the two people who had threatened to leave were the ones who had missed out by poor shift organisation, a practice free-for-all which had other departments scabbing food in their pockets and an even poorer attempt by the bosses to “surprise” the staff by leaving the catering delivery time open.  It was immediately delicious but overly awkward.

I wasn’t really thinking Big Picture when I asked for a Sandwich Day, more that my stomach had called warfare of the gastroeosophageal refluxy kind at the time of the meeting in which I decided to raise the issue.  My immediate boss said that she’d take it to the boys. 

One week later:  Surprise pay rise.  Whaaa??  I asked about my Sandwich Day and made it very clear the pay rise cannot be reneged.  Suckers.

One week later:  Sandwich Day plans.  I check the catering website and organise an emergency meeting to discuss staff food intolerances and allergies.  It emerges that I am welcome to eat sandwiches if I can put up with excessive flatulence all around and/or prepare to work pretty much alone as most will end up recovering in our treatment beds.  Everyone is gluten intolerant beyond digestive enzymes supplied by our Dispensary.  The caterers do not provide a gluten-free option.  I am sad.

UNTIL I FIND THAT THERE ARE ANTIPASTO AND GOURMET MEAT PLATTERS AVAILABLE.

The photo above is the closest visual depiction of the joy I feel about the alternative.

Pay increase and a free feed on a day where all relevant staff have a couple hours overlap and I have an office to retreat to in the event that all the joy of the modern world overwhelms me?! 

This is what I’ve worked all these years for.  Study can wait another five, right?

Advertisements
  1. July 11, 2010 at 5:35 am

    Fuck. Ye. S.

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: