Yesterday our new temp-to-perm proposal coordinator (who, incidentally, has more energy and enthusiasm than most of us can stand) sent out an update on where a few active proposal projects stand. In her email she mentioned that there might be some weekend work and asked us to let her know if we would not be available for any of the next several weekends.
I responded by telling her that I would not be available for weekend work in the foreseeable future. (Given that I have one foot out the door, I'm not giving them one extra minute of my time or effort.)
She responded, copying our MoronManager, by asking me to make sure to put that information on the group calendar, which I had already done.
This morning MM came to me with a hard copy of my email to the proposal coordinator in hand, with "I will not be available for weekend work in the foreseeable future" highlighted in bright orange.
MM asked me if I could elaborate on my message. "Sure. I'm busy and unavailable." She then asked me to put that on the group calendar. "I already did that." And I thought, "Why don't you look at the f**kin' thing, you dolt!"
Considering the notion that everything happens for a reason, I think I've come up with why I've had this god-awful job, for a year and a half now. It's so that as I soon ease into semi-retirement—that is, transition out of FT work (read: quit!) into several PT freelance jobs—I can look back at this job and not miss having a FT office job one tiny bit.