I want out

Why, the Dragon hollers while holding her ragged and trembling hands at the sky, O why do people have to be so fucking unprofessional?

See, this is why I loathe working with people. aka Human Beings. Those who are supposed to be Thinking Beings.

If this is true, ponders the Dragon while gritting her dulled teeth, what on earth are these people thinking about?

About a month ago, I made my debut as a Portuguese translator. When did I learn Portuguese? Never. My office took a Portuguese-Spanish job in a greedy fit, and no one in the office knows Portuguese. So I was appointed for the job. I tried to refuse, given the fact I consider stupid doing a job I know nothing about. 'What are you complaining about?', Velis cried while rolling her eyes. 'Portuguese is the same as Spanish.'

Well, when someone says something as stupid as that, there's nothing much you can do to return that creature to the path of intelligence, right? Specially when she's your boss. Anyone with an IQ higher than 35 must know that Spanish is not Portuguese because it is, like, A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE. Anyway, I sighed and did it. Don't ask me how. And of course it was not my best job ever, but consider that I'm not a fucking Portuguese translator.

Besides, it was supposed to be an urgent job. Mind me, this was at least a month ago. It was before the operation. Early in the week I find out the job was due for last Monday, and it hasn't been delivered. Why? Mr. Bush might know, 'cause I don't. It has been sitting on Velis' desk for a month. So, Anne sends it to the costumer, and the costumer looks at it and blows his wig. It stinks. Obviously, since it was made by two people who didn't know the language. Besides, it's missing some parts. Not only it is badly done, it is actually missing parts.

Where is Velis? cries the costumer. Oh, she's on vacation, and won't be back until the 14th, Anne says. And then she gets inspired, and blabbers: But if you need to talk to someone, here's the girl who made the translation. Oh boy, I thought, and made it for the door. I couldn't flee; they had me trapped. And then I found myself speaking to a guy who hollered for my blood and demanded my head on a platter. And I don't blame him, really. Had I asked for a translation and received what he got, I would have started polishing my axe.

It was embarassing. And how. He screamed and yelled and trashed about, and I just blushed and said "Yes, sir", "No sir", "You're right, sir", "Right away, sir". There was nothing I could say, could I?

He sends the document back, with the mistakes highlighted. Upon checking it, I find out the part I did was mostly OK, not great, but OK, but the part that Velis did... And there were indeed whole chunks missing. OK, I'll correct it. Where's the original? Nowhere in sight. In the file? Nope. In Velis' desk? Nope. In the bookcase? Nope. There's no original. No more.

After hours of franctical document-hunt, I find it stashed in the recycle paper. Great. Now I can correct the document. OK, let's see... First missing part: Page 4. Where's page 4 in the original? There's no page 4. As in: It's missing. There is no Page 4. There was never a page 4. Velis must have noticed. I wonder what her reasoning was. Did she perhaps think the costumer wouldn't notice it if a whole page was missing? Apparently, that's exactly what she thought.

How, the Dragon hollers while holding her ragged and trembling hands at the sky, O how can people be so fucking unprofessional?

Do you see why I hate my job? Everything is like this. This is only one of the clearest examples of how things are done in my office. There is no respect for the costumer. Everything we deliver is badly done. I would be ashamed to tell people I am involved somewhere in the process of making these translations.

So now I'm screwed. I will have to call the costumer and ask him for the original document again. The original document that was delivered at least two months ago. The original of a document whose deadline was last Monday. Yeah, he's gonna love me.

I'm so proud of my job.