Writer's Block: Anthropomorphic buddies

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I have had:
Rocket - Geo Prism
The Purple Cow - Ford Taurus
The Green Dragon - CRV
Lucifer - 1st computer
Lucifer 2 - 2nd computer
Isildur - Current Mac Book, was also name of 1st ipod, sent to Iraq
Boromir/Faramir - Current duel-drive work computer (tech guys giggle when they have to work on it.)
Theoden - Current iTouch
Spite - A project from college
- k.

Sad and pissed off

So, I've had a hell of a day at work. We've got a monster translating job from hell going on right now, so I stayed up in Stow with the "real designers" for the day converting 4 different versions of the same thing into 4 different language versions. x 9 pieces per version. But I digress.

I was told this was my priority. That when this came in, all other work ceases until it gets done.

I pop into Westborough on my way home (At 6:30) to pick up something that has nothing to do with work, and Co-worker X, who's still there whispers to me, over a conversation she's having on the phone, that Co-worker Y has a project that has a drop dead date of thursday, and that if they don't get it in, we'll miss the publishing date, and she's already taken the liberty of emailing my boss about it. It's ture that the job was opened with me on 5/05, but everyone was informed I'd be GONE (WITH THEM!) from 5/10-5/19.

So the conversation I was going to have with my boss when I got in tomorrow about how I needed some help is now going to look like me covering my ass. Fan-fucking-tastic.
*fume*

Really, how the hell can I have and keep priorities when everyone keeps fucking changing them around me? While I'm not even here, ferchirstsake?


So, you'll notice by the timestamp that it's about 8:20 now. That's right, I'm a do-gooder masochist, and I came back (with my dog, patiently waiting for more walks in the car) to attempt to get said project done so I wouldn't have to worry about it tomorrow. But someone fucked with the Comm server, and I can't get in to get the files I'm supposed to be Bogarting for use by Big Box Store.
*fume*

So, I'm pawing through my filing cabinet to try to find an old piece of paper on which I've scribbled many a user name and password, in hopes that one of them would work.
a) paper is nowhere to be found, and
(more annoyingly)
b) I find that someone else has been pawing through my cube, and smashed the handle off my "New Hampshire" Moose mug that LordBleys had given me quite some time ago now, and they had turned it so hopefully I wouldn't notice, and thrown the pieces of the handle in the trash.

It's stupid, but I can't work now. I'm beaten by this place. I tried. I try to make it go, and everything conspires against me, and someone didn't ever have the balls to leave me a note that said "sorry". The mug meant a little something to me - it's seen me through 3 jobs, and harkens back to a time in life when things were a little... simpler... and I didn't feel so broken all the time.


That's what pisses me off the most. I can stay for 24 fucking hours if I need to to get something done (with breaks for Mr. Dog of course,) I'm loyal to a damn fault - but someone couldn't even say sorry - just hoped I wouldn't notice.

And it makes me really sad, and more than a little used.