Perfectly Pixilated-Off

I am bored.

I will bore you too with my pissed off, pixilated words...

On the first day of working here (three long months ago), I was given no introduction or real training on what the job entails. I spent the first week buying stationary for myself, and by the end of it, wondered when I would actually start doing any work.

I am still wondering.

After two weeks, "Tiny" tells me that it'll get busy soon. He gets nervous just at the thought of it. In my innocence I am impressed with his mediocre tales of non-stop telephone ringing, angry suppliers and millions of pounds worth of ordering.

I find it hard to imagine.

At the end of the first month, I noticed that if I did not specifically ask if there was anything I could help with, nothing came my way. So I ended up having to instruct Tiny that he must inform me when there is something I can do, he assured me in his best attempt at a strong voice, that he would.

It didn't happen.

Two months in, and boredom and exasperation reached new heights. I got quite angry about it and told him that I'd rather be at home doing nothing. Again, the weak reassurances.

Still nothing.

Three months later, at breaking point now, I conducted an experiment. I could see on his desk one of the forms he usually gets me to deal with. I didn't mention it, and flaunted my internet-use in front of him. At one point he even asked me what I was looking at and made a vague attempt at conversation, but not once did he ask me to do anything else.

I spent ALL DAY on the internet.

I am doing the same today.