Late entry today. I was stuck on a spreadsheet crossmap that took all day. By the time I looked up from my monitor, my eyes were bloodshot. I looked like Wily E. Coyote after being run over by a truck.
I've learned to not take my boss' responses personally. See, my boss is the type of person who tells everyone their first draft is wrong. It's not personal. She does it to everyone. I've learned that you can have 50 drafts of one report and she'll still think it's wrong. The latest report was a listing of all requested documents from an outside consulting firm. This firm has taken liberties to ask everyone instead of centralized requests. My boss expects me to find out all the requests and check on their progress. However my boss gives data out to the consultant without informing me. So, I'm supposed to keep tabs of stuff that is requested yet don't know what has been completed. Either way, I lose. Anal-retentive pantrygirl is taking it in stride though.
So Lrudlrick and I discussed his sudden urge to go suburban. Personally, I cannot picture myself doing the adult thing and buying a house. Apartments are different. They aren't as permanent sounding as a house.