This goes along with Megan's grammar post, but it's more than just that.
Today I began 3 days of classes that supposedly will prepare me for my upcoming professional exam. I'm paying out the wazoo for this ($350 to be exact) so I was hoping to, you know, actually learn something. I guess that is asking too much.
Here's an excerpt directly from the practice test they gave us. You don't have to know a thing about interior design, or really even have graduated elementary school, to see what's wrong with it.
"Including all of the following, EXCEPT ____, can facilitate a healthy and safe working environment."
That is not even a sentence. A monkey could rip random words out of the dictionary and put together a better question than that. That vagabond Megan mentioned is getting tied to the horses as we speak, but let's move on to the next question, shall we?
"Universal design is defined as 'design for all people.' The underlying principles of universal design include:
a. accessibility, cost effectiveness, adaptability
b. accessibility, aesthetics, affordability
c. supportive, adaptive, accessible
d. safety, aesthetics, supportive."
Can these people not distinguish between a noun and an adjective? "Accessibility" can be a principle of design. "Accessible" is what your mom is. Oops....I mean, "accessible" is not a noun and therefore cannot be a principle of design. You can't just arbitrarily interchange the two. Options A and B are just fine, but I guess the monkey went on his lunch break and let a total moron take over from there. C is totally backwards, and D is a lovely mix of both nouns and adjectives in case you are feeling sort of grammatically ambivalent that day. Here's the best part....the correct answer is C.
I could go through all 137 questions, but I'm hoping if I stop now they'll let the vagabond go. Let me just briefly highlight some of the other blatant errors:
--Two identical questions, each with a different "correct" answer
--Random words inserted where they don't belong (i.e. "only the ground floor must to be accessible")
--Misuse of homonyms ("principle" instead of "principal")
--Two related questions that contradicted each other
--Questions with no correct answer
--Questions that listed the same answer twice
--Questions that were vague, misleading, or that split hairs between two very similar terms
When asked to address the vague questions and how to approach these on the exam, our instructors were oh so helpful: "Well....you're not going to get every single question right."
WHY am I giving these people my hard earned money???
Friday, January 19, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Textbook Trauma
I ordered a textbook from Half.com from a seller that has a very good rating. The book arrived very quickly and appeared to be in fine condition.
It wasn't until today when I went to do my Qualitative reading assignment this morning that I discovered that pages 81-128 are missing. For those of you not too adept at math, that is approximately 50 pages (encompassing an entire chapter and parts of two others) that are not in the book.
Astonishingly enough, that makes it slightly difficult for me to complete the assigned readings. Because I was lacking in pages, I was forced to pay an extra $2.50 to make copies from someone else's book, which is a considerable amount of money to someone with my financial standing. Additionally, the money that I had to fork over for copies severely diminishes my total savings from ordering my textbooks online. Textbook seller: please go crawl into an abandoned mine shaft and die.
Also to the seller of the book: FUCK YOU for not mentioning that minor detail in your book description. Next time, double check your product before dicking over your customers.
Note: I have sent the seller a message about this defect, so depending on the response, there may be an update to this post.
It wasn't until today when I went to do my Qualitative reading assignment this morning that I discovered that pages 81-128 are missing. For those of you not too adept at math, that is approximately 50 pages (encompassing an entire chapter and parts of two others) that are not in the book.
Astonishingly enough, that makes it slightly difficult for me to complete the assigned readings. Because I was lacking in pages, I was forced to pay an extra $2.50 to make copies from someone else's book, which is a considerable amount of money to someone with my financial standing. Additionally, the money that I had to fork over for copies severely diminishes my total savings from ordering my textbooks online. Textbook seller: please go crawl into an abandoned mine shaft and die.
Also to the seller of the book: FUCK YOU for not mentioning that minor detail in your book description. Next time, double check your product before dicking over your customers.
Note: I have sent the seller a message about this defect, so depending on the response, there may be an update to this post.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Grammatically Horrendous
During this past semester as a GTA, I have had the distinct pleasure of getting to grade literally hundreds of student papers. After a semester of reading such papers, I have compiled a list of general advice that I feel needs to be imparted on future paper writers, because frankly, some of the essays I had to grade made my soul bleed.
10 TIPS FOR WRITING PAPERS:
1. This may come as a shock, but all sentences must contain both subjects and verbs. Sentences are not contingent on the number of words. For example:
I am. <----This is a sentence. "I" is the subject and "am" is the verb.
Because he is a philatelist, which is a person who collects stamps as a hobby. <----This is not a sentence. Yes, it has many words, but it contains neither a subject nor a verb.
For further clarification:
You are a dipshit. <---- Sentence
Because I want you to fall in a hole and die. <----Not a sentence.
2. A homophone is a word that sounds like another word, but is spelled differently and has a different meaning.
Common examples:
Their, they're, there
To, two, too
Hear, here
Bare, bear
Ho, hoe
Hoar, whore
Please learn the difference between all these words, and double check that you are using them correctly before you turn your paper in. Otherwise, I will hunt you down and kill you.
3. Nobody likes exclamation points in papers! You are a moron!
4. punctuation and capitalization are important
5. Sew iz spelleeng and proper ward usage.
6. Just as sentences can be too short, they can also be too long. Sometimes people start to write a sentence and then don't know when to stop, so they just continue to write as they try to get out every single possible thought they can muster even though they are just rambling and have long since left the reader sitting in a massive pile of utter bewilderment, even though the sentence makes complete sense to them because they accidentally dropped acid that morning instead of taking their Flintstones vitamins which usually help them get through the day without making stupid mistakes such as writing sentences that are far too complicated and can be easily broken down into an entire paragraph, which would make the paper flow much more smoothly, but unfortunately you are a certifiable moron whose parents should seriously consider a retroactive abortion. Stop it.
7. By no means utilize terminology that you do not comprehend merely to appear to possess auxiliary acumen. You simply sound bombastic and obtuse. Idiot.
8. William Shatner once said, "The worst thing anyone can do in life is cut corners."
Okay, no he didn't. I made that up.
Don't invent sources. It's ethically irresponsible and you are probably far too stupid to get away with it anyway.
9. Don't never use no double negatives, you fucking redneck retard.
10. I don't care who you are or where you are from. You have never aten. You have never might could or usedta could do anything. Don't ever ask anybody where they are at, and if you ever manage to turn up missing, I will print off these suggestions, dip them in cow manure, light them on fire and shove them up my grammar-happy ass.
Please stop offending my senses with your poorly written nonsense. Every time you break one of these rules, not only does a part of my soul die, but in some distant land, a vagabond is unceremoniously drawn and quartered. Master the English language, or get the hell out of my country.
For more on this subject, please check out a related post in my blog.
10 TIPS FOR WRITING PAPERS:
1. This may come as a shock, but all sentences must contain both subjects and verbs. Sentences are not contingent on the number of words. For example:
I am. <----This is a sentence. "I" is the subject and "am" is the verb.
Because he is a philatelist, which is a person who collects stamps as a hobby. <----This is not a sentence. Yes, it has many words, but it contains neither a subject nor a verb.
For further clarification:
You are a dipshit. <---- Sentence
Because I want you to fall in a hole and die. <----Not a sentence.
2. A homophone is a word that sounds like another word, but is spelled differently and has a different meaning.
Common examples:
Their, they're, there
To, two, too
Hear, here
Bare, bear
Ho, hoe
Hoar, whore
Please learn the difference between all these words, and double check that you are using them correctly before you turn your paper in. Otherwise, I will hunt you down and kill you.
3. Nobody likes exclamation points in papers! You are a moron!
4. punctuation and capitalization are important
5. Sew iz spelleeng and proper ward usage.
6. Just as sentences can be too short, they can also be too long. Sometimes people start to write a sentence and then don't know when to stop, so they just continue to write as they try to get out every single possible thought they can muster even though they are just rambling and have long since left the reader sitting in a massive pile of utter bewilderment, even though the sentence makes complete sense to them because they accidentally dropped acid that morning instead of taking their Flintstones vitamins which usually help them get through the day without making stupid mistakes such as writing sentences that are far too complicated and can be easily broken down into an entire paragraph, which would make the paper flow much more smoothly, but unfortunately you are a certifiable moron whose parents should seriously consider a retroactive abortion. Stop it.
7. By no means utilize terminology that you do not comprehend merely to appear to possess auxiliary acumen. You simply sound bombastic and obtuse. Idiot.
8. William Shatner once said, "The worst thing anyone can do in life is cut corners."
Okay, no he didn't. I made that up.
Don't invent sources. It's ethically irresponsible and you are probably far too stupid to get away with it anyway.
9. Don't never use no double negatives, you fucking redneck retard.
10. I don't care who you are or where you are from. You have never aten. You have never might could or usedta could do anything. Don't ever ask anybody where they are at, and if you ever manage to turn up missing, I will print off these suggestions, dip them in cow manure, light them on fire and shove them up my grammar-happy ass.
Please stop offending my senses with your poorly written nonsense. Every time you break one of these rules, not only does a part of my soul die, but in some distant land, a vagabond is unceremoniously drawn and quartered. Master the English language, or get the hell out of my country.
For more on this subject, please check out a related post in my blog.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
On his way home from the redneck yacht club
I've parked in handicapped parking spaces before. Was it right? No. Was it convenient? You bet. It's not that I was deliberately trying to gyp a handicapped person out of a spot, that's just what despicable people do. Moving on. I've parked in handicapped spaces, but never across handicapped spaces.
Yeah, you're seeing that correctly. This person not only parked in a handicapped spot without a permit, they parked across it in a manner that prevented others from even parking in the adjacent spot. When I lived in Illinois, my family called this "parking like a Hoosier".
Just so you can develop or further your stereotyping skills, let me describe the driver. He was about 5' 10", had on a denim jacket and cowboy boots, and purchased a can of Skoal long cut.
Stupid rednecks.
Yeah, you're seeing that correctly. This person not only parked in a handicapped spot without a permit, they parked across it in a manner that prevented others from even parking in the adjacent spot. When I lived in Illinois, my family called this "parking like a Hoosier".
Just so you can develop or further your stereotyping skills, let me describe the driver. He was about 5' 10", had on a denim jacket and cowboy boots, and purchased a can of Skoal long cut.
Stupid rednecks.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Aggravated Apathy
Click the title. My lastest personal blog post very much belongs here, but for whatever reason, it is there.
Fuck the handicapped.
Fuck the handicapped.
Crapper Catastrophe
When I first moved into my apartment, the little flapper inside the toilet was broken. It was an inconvenience, but not a tragedy. I reported it to the office, and they said they would get to it once they fixed the major issues in people's apartments.
Shortly after this, I had a leak in my bathroom ceiling. Maintenance came to fix it, but not before putting a giant hole in the ceiling first. They promised to fix it soon.
Now, about three months later, the flapper and the ceiling hole have been repaired. Unfortunately, it has come at a great cost.
Whatever they did to my toilet seriously fucked it up to the point that it doesn't flush right. I don't know if this made a difference, but they ripped a big hole in the water saver cylinder. For a few days it would flush, but extremely slowly. We tried plunging it this weekend, but it didn't appear to be clogged. Today I flushed it, and it completely overflowed, flooding my bathroom.
To make matters worse, they completely trashed my bathroom. The toilet flapper and other random pieces of who knows what were partly in my trash can and partly strewn across the floor. A big, wet glob of plaster from the ceiling repair was stuck to the floor tile, and chunks of dry plaster littered my bathtub. In short, my bathroom is a disaster now, and I can't use my toilet.
Fuck you, maintenance, I thought your job was to fix things, not make them worse.
Shortly after this, I had a leak in my bathroom ceiling. Maintenance came to fix it, but not before putting a giant hole in the ceiling first. They promised to fix it soon.
Now, about three months later, the flapper and the ceiling hole have been repaired. Unfortunately, it has come at a great cost.
Whatever they did to my toilet seriously fucked it up to the point that it doesn't flush right. I don't know if this made a difference, but they ripped a big hole in the water saver cylinder. For a few days it would flush, but extremely slowly. We tried plunging it this weekend, but it didn't appear to be clogged. Today I flushed it, and it completely overflowed, flooding my bathroom.
To make matters worse, they completely trashed my bathroom. The toilet flapper and other random pieces of who knows what were partly in my trash can and partly strewn across the floor. A big, wet glob of plaster from the ceiling repair was stuck to the floor tile, and chunks of dry plaster littered my bathtub. In short, my bathroom is a disaster now, and I can't use my toilet.
Fuck you, maintenance, I thought your job was to fix things, not make them worse.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Icing
So. Today I can't remember if it was Megan or Gretchen that said someone should post a rant here.
Well here it goes...
In short...blue and white icing don't come out of the squishy bag too well and that pisses me off.
Well here it goes...
In short...blue and white icing don't come out of the squishy bag too well and that pisses me off.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Jewels from the Workplace
Supervisor. Employed for more than two years. You would think that one would pick up a few rudimentary concepts when working in a certain industry for that period of time.
"Corey, this piece of software says PC/Mac on the side. Will it work with like an HP and stuff?"
----------
"Can I help you find something today?"
"Yeah. I need the cartridge for this printer." ::hands me bar napkin with illegible scribbles::
"Is this an inkjet or laser printer?"
"Inkjet."
::I search furiously through product catalog looking for printer model::
"Oh wait! I think it's on of these big ones." (laser toner, NOT inkjet)
::Looks in different section of catalog. Finds printer model immediately::
----------
"Do you have the UBS cords for printers?"
----------
::customer point to 4 binders that another customer had lain down randomly::
"Are these the only binders you have?"
----------
"What's the difference between these two? Why's this one $100 more?"
"Because they are two entirely different machines."
----------
"This flatbed scanner is $79, but this printer/scanner/copier combo is also $79. Why would I buy just the scanner?"
"I don't know? Why would you?"
----------
I really wish I could say this was an anthology of stupidity collected over the course of a week, but these were all today. Guess who the only person on the sales floor was. Guess who had about a brazillion other things to do. Me, in case you are still pondering. My higher-ups need to get on the ball and hire some motherfuckers so I can do my job. I don't mind helping the occasional customer, but when I'm the only one on the floor being pulled between 7 different palsied shit-for-brains morons it becomes a burden.
Do me a favor. Come to my work, ask stupid questions, and await the act of violence that will end both my job and your consciousness.
"Corey, this piece of software says PC/Mac on the side. Will it work with like an HP and stuff?"
----------
"Can I help you find something today?"
"Yeah. I need the cartridge for this printer." ::hands me bar napkin with illegible scribbles::
"Is this an inkjet or laser printer?"
"Inkjet."
::I search furiously through product catalog looking for printer model::
"Oh wait! I think it's on of these big ones." (laser toner, NOT inkjet)
::Looks in different section of catalog. Finds printer model immediately::
----------
"Do you have the UBS cords for printers?"
----------
::customer point to 4 binders that another customer had lain down randomly::
"Are these the only binders you have?"
----------
"What's the difference between these two? Why's this one $100 more?"
"Because they are two entirely different machines."
----------
"This flatbed scanner is $79, but this printer/scanner/copier combo is also $79. Why would I buy just the scanner?"
"I don't know? Why would you?"
----------
I really wish I could say this was an anthology of stupidity collected over the course of a week, but these were all today. Guess who the only person on the sales floor was. Guess who had about a brazillion other things to do. Me, in case you are still pondering. My higher-ups need to get on the ball and hire some motherfuckers so I can do my job. I don't mind helping the occasional customer, but when I'm the only one on the floor being pulled between 7 different palsied shit-for-brains morons it becomes a burden.
Do me a favor. Come to my work, ask stupid questions, and await the act of violence that will end both my job and your consciousness.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Why Flying Sucks...Part 3
I thought I had gotten all of my frustration out on the other posts about flying, but my experiences at two different airports last week have led me to yet another post about the perils of flying.
More on Security -
I have already elaborated on how some people can't seem to handle following simple directions shouted at them in plain English by airport security. If you are hard of hearing, ask someone nearby to explain it to you. If you don't speak English, either learn it or get the fuck out. Even if you don't speak the language or happen to be deaf, you can still understand what is going on simply be mirroring the behavior of other people. If the ten people in line in front of you are taking the change out of their pockets, maybe you should too. Idiot.
Also, those that haven't taken one too many hits to the head and do understand these simple instructions need to take the next step and make sure they are fully prepared when it comes time to walk through the metal detector. When the security guard is beckoning you through, that is not the time to remove your shoes, cell phone, keys, watch, belt, pocketknife, hand grenade, and copper anal beads. These items should have been already taken off and placed on the x-ray machine belt. Just because you want to be a slowass and miss your flight doesn't mean I do. My shoes are already off. Get the fuck out of my way.
More on the Pilot -
If you are the pilot of my aircraft, you have one job: get me to my destination alive. As I have already established, you are not a tour guide or news anchor. Likewise, you are also not a comedian. When my plane landed in Denver, Colorado, the pilot's announcement said, "Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii!" This was not even remotely amusing or productive. The only thing I want to hear from the pilot is the local time, my baggage carousel number, and the words "You may now get off of the plane." Also, given the obvious negative IQ number of most airline passengers, I had to wonder how many of them were freaking out thinking we had actually landed in Hawaii. As if the snow capped mountains weren't a dead giveaway...
Meal Service -
Here's one I haven't covered yet. People on flights get hungry. To accomodate for this, the airline usually provides a free beverage and snack of some kind. Delta gives you a choice of several snacks, ranging from chips to cookies to nuts to granola bars. The flight attendants move up the aisle with both the beverage and snack carts until eventually everything is served. I have some issues with the way this was handled on my last flight. One flight attendant seemed to be in charge of drinks, and the other had control of the snacks. Simple enough. Handing out snacks, however, doesn't take quite as long as serving drinks, so the snack cart lady had made it almost all the way to the back of the plane before the beverage lady was even halfway. More specifically, the snack lady had made it to the seat RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME before suddenly deciding that the drink wench needed assistance. First she parked the snack cart right by my seat, but I couldn't reach it to grab anything for fear of waking the rather large woman snoring next to me. Then she snack bitch came back, but instead of feeding me, she shoved the cart back a few rows and then returned to help with the drinks. I had to watch in vain while the greedy people in the back few rows snatched away the Sun Chips I had been drooling over. It was a full ten minutes before she finally came back and let me have something to eat. Bitch.
The Flight -
Sometimes we are lucky and are seated next to an interesting person with whom we can chat during the flight. If you are one of these people, good for you. But just because you want to have a lengthy discussion with someone doesn't mean that I want to hear it too. When engaging in any kind of conversation on the plane, KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN. I have more important things to listen to than the dumb bitch three rows back describing the rules of the Tour de France in detail to the moron next to her. Nor do I want to hear the man across the aisle arguing with his wife about what to do for dinner or which child they with to ritually sacrifice next. Keep your conversations at a decibel level low enough so that I don't have to deal with it.
This is where I will leave it for now. But I'm sure a fourth installment is inevitable after I fly home in November.
More on Security -
I have already elaborated on how some people can't seem to handle following simple directions shouted at them in plain English by airport security. If you are hard of hearing, ask someone nearby to explain it to you. If you don't speak English, either learn it or get the fuck out. Even if you don't speak the language or happen to be deaf, you can still understand what is going on simply be mirroring the behavior of other people. If the ten people in line in front of you are taking the change out of their pockets, maybe you should too. Idiot.
Also, those that haven't taken one too many hits to the head and do understand these simple instructions need to take the next step and make sure they are fully prepared when it comes time to walk through the metal detector. When the security guard is beckoning you through, that is not the time to remove your shoes, cell phone, keys, watch, belt, pocketknife, hand grenade, and copper anal beads. These items should have been already taken off and placed on the x-ray machine belt. Just because you want to be a slowass and miss your flight doesn't mean I do. My shoes are already off. Get the fuck out of my way.
More on the Pilot -
If you are the pilot of my aircraft, you have one job: get me to my destination alive. As I have already established, you are not a tour guide or news anchor. Likewise, you are also not a comedian. When my plane landed in Denver, Colorado, the pilot's announcement said, "Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii!" This was not even remotely amusing or productive. The only thing I want to hear from the pilot is the local time, my baggage carousel number, and the words "You may now get off of the plane." Also, given the obvious negative IQ number of most airline passengers, I had to wonder how many of them were freaking out thinking we had actually landed in Hawaii. As if the snow capped mountains weren't a dead giveaway...
Meal Service -
Here's one I haven't covered yet. People on flights get hungry. To accomodate for this, the airline usually provides a free beverage and snack of some kind. Delta gives you a choice of several snacks, ranging from chips to cookies to nuts to granola bars. The flight attendants move up the aisle with both the beverage and snack carts until eventually everything is served. I have some issues with the way this was handled on my last flight. One flight attendant seemed to be in charge of drinks, and the other had control of the snacks. Simple enough. Handing out snacks, however, doesn't take quite as long as serving drinks, so the snack cart lady had made it almost all the way to the back of the plane before the beverage lady was even halfway. More specifically, the snack lady had made it to the seat RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME before suddenly deciding that the drink wench needed assistance. First she parked the snack cart right by my seat, but I couldn't reach it to grab anything for fear of waking the rather large woman snoring next to me. Then she snack bitch came back, but instead of feeding me, she shoved the cart back a few rows and then returned to help with the drinks. I had to watch in vain while the greedy people in the back few rows snatched away the Sun Chips I had been drooling over. It was a full ten minutes before she finally came back and let me have something to eat. Bitch.
The Flight -
Sometimes we are lucky and are seated next to an interesting person with whom we can chat during the flight. If you are one of these people, good for you. But just because you want to have a lengthy discussion with someone doesn't mean that I want to hear it too. When engaging in any kind of conversation on the plane, KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN. I have more important things to listen to than the dumb bitch three rows back describing the rules of the Tour de France in detail to the moron next to her. Nor do I want to hear the man across the aisle arguing with his wife about what to do for dinner or which child they with to ritually sacrifice next. Keep your conversations at a decibel level low enough so that I don't have to deal with it.
This is where I will leave it for now. But I'm sure a fourth installment is inevitable after I fly home in November.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The IT NoHelpLine
I work for a large architecture firm. As anyone who works in the field knows, it's easy to get yourself in trouble if you don't keep a paper trail of everything you do. So for the last 2 years I've been filing all my important incoming and outgoing emails in a "cabinet" on our office email network. I've accumulated several thousand emails, all sorted into their appropriate folders and subfolders, and I reference them on a daily basis for one thing or another. To give you an idea of what's in there, it includes:
--Projects I'm currently working on / tasks to complete
--Old projects that I use for reference
--Office information, in case I need to look up where Joe Smith sits or what codes to bill on my timesheet
Suffice it to say that I have a lot of extremely important information in there. So you can imagine how I almost keeled over in my chair when on Friday I opened up a folder and ALL my emails were GONE. For the next five minutes I panicked, opening folder after folder as though the emails might sense my distress and reappear. Finally I came across my Trash folder, which to my shock (and great relief) contained 3300 emails...everything that was missing. Then I looked at the deleted date, and that's when my relief turned to anger. They were deleted at 2 am on 7/1, the Saturday before, when I was not even remotely near the office. It seems that our brilliant IT department had decided to run some kind of cleanup over the weekend, with no prior warning, that deleted every email over a month old. WTF?? So I angrily spent over an hour re-sorting my emails back into their folders. I managed to clean some old junk out along the way and ended up putting about 1800 emails back into the cabinet.
It didn't end there. First thing Monday morning, guess what...there were 1800 emails back in the Trash. Apparently whatever the IT department did is deleting the emails on a daily basis. I spent about 30 minutes dumping them back into the correct folders and then sent a complaint to the IT Helpline. This is sort of an email forum where you can ask a question and the IT people (supposedly) will get back to you. Well, by 4:45 today I hadn't heard a peep from them so I marched myself over to their office, where the last IT guy was just heading out for the day. I asked him about the lack of response and he brushed me off with an "Oh yeah, that's on my list to come talk to you tomorrow. " Nice. So once again I spent 30 minutes sorting my email, knowing full well that they'll be back in the Trash tomorrow, because I'm terrified of what will happen if I leave them there overnight. I really don't have time for this crap. Thanks for nothing, IT jerks.
--Projects I'm currently working on / tasks to complete
--Old projects that I use for reference
--Office information, in case I need to look up where Joe Smith sits or what codes to bill on my timesheet
Suffice it to say that I have a lot of extremely important information in there. So you can imagine how I almost keeled over in my chair when on Friday I opened up a folder and ALL my emails were GONE. For the next five minutes I panicked, opening folder after folder as though the emails might sense my distress and reappear. Finally I came across my Trash folder, which to my shock (and great relief) contained 3300 emails...everything that was missing. Then I looked at the deleted date, and that's when my relief turned to anger. They were deleted at 2 am on 7/1, the Saturday before, when I was not even remotely near the office. It seems that our brilliant IT department had decided to run some kind of cleanup over the weekend, with no prior warning, that deleted every email over a month old. WTF?? So I angrily spent over an hour re-sorting my emails back into their folders. I managed to clean some old junk out along the way and ended up putting about 1800 emails back into the cabinet.
It didn't end there. First thing Monday morning, guess what...there were 1800 emails back in the Trash. Apparently whatever the IT department did is deleting the emails on a daily basis. I spent about 30 minutes dumping them back into the correct folders and then sent a complaint to the IT Helpline. This is sort of an email forum where you can ask a question and the IT people (supposedly) will get back to you. Well, by 4:45 today I hadn't heard a peep from them so I marched myself over to their office, where the last IT guy was just heading out for the day. I asked him about the lack of response and he brushed me off with an "Oh yeah, that's on my list to come talk to you tomorrow. " Nice. So once again I spent 30 minutes sorting my email, knowing full well that they'll be back in the Trash tomorrow, because I'm terrified of what will happen if I leave them there overnight. I really don't have time for this crap. Thanks for nothing, IT jerks.
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