1) The W-2s arrived from our payroll provider today. Complete with the 800 fucked up W-2s all mixed in. Great, so you sent me 4000 good W-2s and 800+ screwed up ones? Like THAT won’t be a major disaster. Ughhhh. The rep suggested I just send them all out, letting my people know that “they may receive a second W-2.” As if the employees wouldn’t be halfway to H&R Block so they can spend their refund windfalls on diapers, formula and Busch Lite. Geeez, dude.
2) So I broke Gene’s fancy office chair the weekend before he left this time. The plastic on the seat is cracked, no bones about it: the chair is buh-row-ken. Mercifully, the chair is 4 years into a 12 year warranty, so it’s covered. Meanwhile, arranging the whole thing has been a huge headache. They faxed me directions on how to take the stupid chair apart except apparently they have never seen a Herman Miller Aeron chair before because they were shocked that there is a wire connecting the top half of the chair to the bottom half. And the wire is held there by a screw. And in great news, the fucking screw is in there good and tight. Gene said I should take the chair to work and get some man to unscrew it for me. So now Gene’s chair is in the back of the car so I can try and beguile a coworker into not completely stripping the screw (a job I have begun all by my lonesome). Why does everything have to be so hard?? I am thisclose to taking the entire chair (and the handy prepaid FedEx label) to FedEx Kinkos and just letting them handle the shipping back. I wonder if they’d charge more? I just want Gene’s freaking chair to work another 8 years because there is no way in hell we can buy another one of those chairs.
3) In better news, in only 3 months I will be on a short vacation to Florida. Gene inexplicably fell for the sales pitch from M*arriott Vacation Club so we are going to FL for a little vacation. If I can just survive the W-2 season, I will be home free. (The W-2s are killing me. Today, I had a girl call me THREE FREAKING TIMES about her boyfriend/husband/brother/jailhouse lover’s W-2. Get a freaking life).