What the hell is wrong with the IT department in every business? Why do they work harder at explaining to you why they cannot help you than if they would just fucking fix the goddamn problem?! It's like a part time job for them. Or do they get style points from Nick Burns?
Today, I moved back into my old office only to find that IT had dumped all of our belongings into somewhat organized piles of cardboard crap and did not hook up any of our equipment. The same IT that absolutely demanded that you not touch any of your electronic equipment because the believe you are such a fucking imbecile that you can't unhook/hook up a few wires. Somewhere amongst the electronic excrement pile I was able to fish out the things that belonged to me (clearly labeled as such). I then took the bullshit by the long, record-breaking, two-flusher, corn-riddled horns, plugged in a total of FIVE wires, and was set to go. I mean Jesus Hewlett Packard Christ! Don't you IT guys do this for a fucking living? Don't you have all the steps memorized so clearly that you could move us piddly computer retards in less than 8 seconds? And can you explain to me why some requests require me to submit a "ticket" to the Help Desk, while other requests do not? Is it a tits issue? Do I need to get some? Or is being Black enough? Seriously. The slights and blatant racism that comes my way is astounding. If I was a Black woman with big breasts, I would never have computer problems at work again. Look, slavery ended a long long time ago. We have processes and laws in place so that all receive equal treatment. So why oh why do you feel the need to "help a Brutha out", but not me? Could I complain to my EAC or Human Resources Department? Sure. At best, it would go nowhere. At worst, I would get slapped with a lawsuit. So I sit. And wait. And open Help Desk tickets. And be extra nice and polite in the hopes they will get to me sooner. They don't.
UPDATE
In addition to the ass-fuck described in the lines above, it turns out that they did not move us to the correct location in the building. Therefore, I get the added joy of accompanying Bobblehead Boss up to our Facilities Department to mitigate the issue. More joy is piled on top of the joy that has already spewed itself across my path today by our encounter with Nicorette. She is 120mgs of pure attitude. She explains that we all needed to be put together on the same floor so they could get an accurate head count. (blink, blink) ---- (blink). What. The. Fuck. Are The Wiggles running our Facilities Department? I don't even know how to begin to describe how incredibly primordial ooze stupid that is. You mean I have to squeeze my underpaid ass and all of my unhooked equipment into a smaller cube so it will be easier for you to get a headcount? Let me remind you that there are a total of EIGHT people on the floor. Eight. Please, let me be extremely uncomfortable so you don't have to take 10 more steps to get a headcount. Nice.
UPDATE
Beep beep beep beep beep beep! Look out! Mack truck backing up, ready to dump an assload of joy: no air conditioning. Ah, not so bad you say? But, I get a second helping of joy because Nicorette gave us a cart to move all of our equipment to our new location. Apparently, IT does not move your stuff, they just hook it up (in theory). I am the only ant from my team in the farm today. So (here comes even more joy, now with 20% less cholesterol) I get to move EVERYONE'S equipment. With no air conditioning. In my work clothes.
UPDATE
My computer is not hooked up to the network at my new location. Hmmm... what should I do? Let's see... nope... still have tiny man boobs; still completely fucking white. Ok then, altogether now... "Open a Help Desk ticket". YAY! And so I wait.
UPDATE
... and wait....
UPDATE
.... (hold music) ....
UPDATE
Thank GOD my subscription to JOY magazine has not run out. I received this GREAT recipe for JOY in crap sauce. Take one part IT, 4 parts incompetence, add a dash of Nicorette, salt to taste, and heat on the 8th floor for 7 - 14 days. Mmmmmmm.... smells like my company. Serves 8.
Everyone is hooked to the network but me. I keep unhooking my computer tower and 1984 era monitor and drag it over to cube squat somewhere there is a network connection. Still no air.
How the fuck does my company make any money?
UPDATE
The Password is.... Joy. Now Bobblehead Boss decided she has had enough-- of me, I think. She gave me the look like, "You can't even handle getting your computer set up you fucking idiot? Did you open a Help Desk ticket?!" So she called EVERYONE in IT and their bosses to get someone to hook up my computer as we now have a proposal to work on. Hey, and guess what? Nick Burns shows up and it takes a total of TWO MINTUES for him to, not only fix the problem on two machines, but also to get us hooked up to the printers in the building (up to this point we have been sending our Mapquest directions and jokes of the day to print at another office... in another state--- my bad). Joy, joy, joy Nick. Thanks for taking time away from the Deep Space 9 marathon to waddle your ass over to us and shower us with your Pearls of Wisdom. I wish you, the Missus and the rest of The Tribbles a fine day.
It only took two weeks.
UPDATE
Got our proposal out the door. One hour later, we have an electrical fire in the building. Sprinklers happen along with other shit. Severe damage to building and they are checking for structural damage. Building closed until further notice. Must telecommute in the meantime.
Joy.
Today, I moved back into my old office only to find that IT had dumped all of our belongings into somewhat organized piles of cardboard crap and did not hook up any of our equipment. The same IT that absolutely demanded that you not touch any of your electronic equipment because the believe you are such a fucking imbecile that you can't unhook/hook up a few wires. Somewhere amongst the electronic excrement pile I was able to fish out the things that belonged to me (clearly labeled as such). I then took the bullshit by the long, record-breaking, two-flusher, corn-riddled horns, plugged in a total of FIVE wires, and was set to go. I mean Jesus Hewlett Packard Christ! Don't you IT guys do this for a fucking living? Don't you have all the steps memorized so clearly that you could move us piddly computer retards in less than 8 seconds? And can you explain to me why some requests require me to submit a "ticket" to the Help Desk, while other requests do not? Is it a tits issue? Do I need to get some? Or is being Black enough? Seriously. The slights and blatant racism that comes my way is astounding. If I was a Black woman with big breasts, I would never have computer problems at work again. Look, slavery ended a long long time ago. We have processes and laws in place so that all receive equal treatment. So why oh why do you feel the need to "help a Brutha out", but not me? Could I complain to my EAC or Human Resources Department? Sure. At best, it would go nowhere. At worst, I would get slapped with a lawsuit. So I sit. And wait. And open Help Desk tickets. And be extra nice and polite in the hopes they will get to me sooner. They don't.
UPDATE
In addition to the ass-fuck described in the lines above, it turns out that they did not move us to the correct location in the building. Therefore, I get the added joy of accompanying Bobblehead Boss up to our Facilities Department to mitigate the issue. More joy is piled on top of the joy that has already spewed itself across my path today by our encounter with Nicorette. She is 120mgs of pure attitude. She explains that we all needed to be put together on the same floor so they could get an accurate head count. (blink, blink) ---- (blink). What. The. Fuck. Are The Wiggles running our Facilities Department? I don't even know how to begin to describe how incredibly primordial ooze stupid that is. You mean I have to squeeze my underpaid ass and all of my unhooked equipment into a smaller cube so it will be easier for you to get a headcount? Let me remind you that there are a total of EIGHT people on the floor. Eight. Please, let me be extremely uncomfortable so you don't have to take 10 more steps to get a headcount. Nice.
UPDATE
Beep beep beep beep beep beep! Look out! Mack truck backing up, ready to dump an assload of joy: no air conditioning. Ah, not so bad you say? But, I get a second helping of joy because Nicorette gave us a cart to move all of our equipment to our new location. Apparently, IT does not move your stuff, they just hook it up (in theory). I am the only ant from my team in the farm today. So (here comes even more joy, now with 20% less cholesterol) I get to move EVERYONE'S equipment. With no air conditioning. In my work clothes.
UPDATE
My computer is not hooked up to the network at my new location. Hmmm... what should I do? Let's see... nope... still have tiny man boobs; still completely fucking white. Ok then, altogether now... "Open a Help Desk ticket". YAY! And so I wait.
UPDATE
... and wait....
UPDATE
.... (hold music) ....
UPDATE
Thank GOD my subscription to JOY magazine has not run out. I received this GREAT recipe for JOY in crap sauce. Take one part IT, 4 parts incompetence, add a dash of Nicorette, salt to taste, and heat on the 8th floor for 7 - 14 days. Mmmmmmm.... smells like my company. Serves 8.
Everyone is hooked to the network but me. I keep unhooking my computer tower and 1984 era monitor and drag it over to cube squat somewhere there is a network connection. Still no air.
How the fuck does my company make any money?
UPDATE
The Password is.... Joy. Now Bobblehead Boss decided she has had enough-- of me, I think. She gave me the look like, "You can't even handle getting your computer set up you fucking idiot? Did you open a Help Desk ticket?!" So she called EVERYONE in IT and their bosses to get someone to hook up my computer as we now have a proposal to work on. Hey, and guess what? Nick Burns shows up and it takes a total of TWO MINTUES for him to, not only fix the problem on two machines, but also to get us hooked up to the printers in the building (up to this point we have been sending our Mapquest directions and jokes of the day to print at another office... in another state--- my bad). Joy, joy, joy Nick. Thanks for taking time away from the Deep Space 9 marathon to waddle your ass over to us and shower us with your Pearls of Wisdom. I wish you, the Missus and the rest of The Tribbles a fine day.
It only took two weeks.
UPDATE
Got our proposal out the door. One hour later, we have an electrical fire in the building. Sprinklers happen along with other shit. Severe damage to building and they are checking for structural damage. Building closed until further notice. Must telecommute in the meantime.
Joy.
posted by Lou Bricant at
7:51 AM
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