Carpe Diem? WTF?

I used to work from 9 AM to 7 PM without a lunch break five days a week, and go into the office for a few hours on Saturday and Sunday, just for fun. Because there was that much work to do, and I loved work that much.

That company wound down operations in 2005, and gave me the severance package that allowed me to buy Chez Peepee. I bounced around for a couple years after that, and two years ago, I found a job that I thought would give me the freedom and ownership I needed to be happy professionally, without that crazy overtime commitment.

Well.

Be careful what you ask for, because you just might get it.

Construction Inc. has been kicking my ass lately, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm off my game or if I'm not ready to play in the old boy's league.

Part of the attractiveness of this job is that I'm good at playing with the old boys. I'm smart, and I'm clever, and I've got the background (farmgirl, FTW!) that lends me the faint whiff of legitimacy I need to have my say. It helps that I tower (physically) over all of our sales people and office staff. In fact, the only people taller than me in the office are the president and the yard manager.

I'm starting to think that's not a coincidence, because I've always been wary of short people - they are feisty and sturdy in their own way.

It's been hell over the past couple months: we rolled out a new software system (thanks for letting me know, assholes) right at year end, the satellites that I need to do inventory are infuriatingly close to the horizon and there are buildings between those satellites and the piles of sand I need to measure. This is how it went:

Me: Please move this pile.

Them: Oh, are you sure you need that? How does that work? By the way, what are you doing with that stuff?... I don't know, we're busy.

Me: Well, I need this because I report to our owners, so please? Pretty please with sugar on top?

Them: Oh, I don't think we have the time.

Me: I don't want to be a bitch, but this is important, I need you do it.

Them: Well, OK, but it'll be real difficult, and we're really busy.

Me: Great. That's really helpful, guys.

Bossman: What she said, and do it now.

Them: Oh, lookee there, it's done all ready.

Me: That's grand. Look at this teamwork. Go us! (and in my inside voice, FUCK YOU assholes!).

That was May month-end. Repeat ad nausea at June month-end with the office staff, except Bossman is copying the president when he replies to my "whiny" emails (because Bossman is my biggest fan, not because he disapproves - he's just all about full disclosure)..

Ten more courses... and I will run the place. I will, and it will be awesome. Is it mean of mean to hope that a few folks retire between now and then?