Back to the bunker
Phew. This was a rough day. A very rough day. It is bad enough when one must return to his or her place of employment after an extremely enjoyable holiday, quite worse when that place is teeming with piles of unresolved issues -- mega piles. A substitute drone would certainly be nice to carry on when Ol' B2 is away at play.
Yup, the worst part of any extended leave time is the fact that there is no one to fill in for me when I'm gone. "But B2, B2, just set up your office scheduling so that everyone knows when you are gone and when you are returning!" you condescendingly lecture, smugness radiating from your puss like heat shimmers off hot asphalt. Yeah, thanks for the brainstorm, Sherlock. What the Hell do you think I do when I go on leave?
I set up detailed return email messaging so that everybody who sends me their usual crap gets it bounced back in their faces. Result? They send more crap. I set up my voice mail with detailed instructions on when I'll be back, and who to contact if they have an emergency. Result? My voice mail is filled and overloaded. I personally contact those associates with whom I have the most contacts during my normal work days, informing them of my pending absence and to hold critical issues until my return. Result? A massive pile of crap on my desk that looks like it wouldn't fit into the recycling bin.
But the topper is my boss. While I'm away all I ask is that he take care of the issues or critical messages that occasionally crop up and make them go away. That means resolving said issues as they occur. But what does he do? Counts the days, hours, seconds, and nanoseconds until my return and then unloads all of the aforementioned issues that have been left conveniently unresolved in a dizzying frenzy of a 20-minute meeting. He's happy. I'm underpaid.
OK, so it could be worse as I could be unemployed - been there, done that, and will probably be there again. Now I know what you're thinking -- B2 is certainly doing a lot of kvetching here -- And you would be right. But guess what? I already feel better simply by venting on my little Web page and having you who have nothing better to do read about it.
Vacation was good while it lasted ... and I only have to wait 11 months, three weeks, and four days for another.