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There probably weren't any good ways to start work this morning given that I was feeling tired and hungover and wobbly-stomached (at least part of this was my own fault for last night's delightful Valentine's Day indulgence in the shape of a huge meal at Bruno's Brasserie) but I can certainly think of better ways than getting two angry, rude phone calls in the space of 15 minutes about something I know nothing about and have no power to fix. The first person to rant at me about this work appeared to accept some of my explanations about why I couldn't help her, but then her boss phoned five minutes later to repeat the fun and games. I did my best to stay calm, but I'm not good at covering up for other people at the best of times, and this wasn't the best of times. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time here," he said, and the only thing I'm proud of in the entire conversation is that I didn't yell "WELL YOU'RE DOING A BLOODY GOOD JOB OF IT ANYWAY" in response.
But I'm tired of trying to explain why people senior to me haven't done their work, tired of trying to explain why they're not answering phone calls or email to explain why they haven't done this work, and tired of pointing out the obvious (you'd think) fact that if somebody isn't answering phone calls then I can't bloody well phone them to tell them to answer phone calls. Perhaps if we had a bat-phone, or could beam a gigantic Cambridge University crest into the sky to tell the relevant people that their crime-fighting powers were needed to save the website, then it might be worth people's while to hassle anybody on our team who'll answer their phone. As it is, it just makes us -- or, at least, me -- reluctant to answer the phone at all.
It occurred to me, though, that it's the first time in this job that I've been practically in tears at work because of work. I mean, I've cried at work before, but that was because my boyfriend at the time wouldn't answer any of my emails or phone calls; and, to be fair, that was partly my own fault for taking a year to realise that I'd been dumped. And my previous job made me cry with frustration and boredom on a regular basis, and I'm still glad to be out of it. For all the angst and politics, this job is still interesting, and it still has potential; and it has been noticed by the people who count that I'm doing my best to deal with an unworkable situation. But, oh, it wears me out sometimes.
