Ups and Downs

[written 10/22]

I have discovered a new target of Receptionist Rage today. "Mr. Jackson" paid me for 2 stamps (88 cents) with a $20 bill and couldn't have been any less unapologetic about taking the rest of my paper change--18 one-dollar-bills--as well as a dollar in quarters, and 12 cents. I'm left with two 20's and more nickels than I know what to do with. If someone comes to pay with a 5, they're getting $4 in quarters. "Mr. Jackson" is officially on my shit list with "Mr. Refund", aka "Mr. I Have A Full Time Job, But I Want My 75 Cents Back" (see "Already?").

Other than that, this Thursday has been fabulous. One of my bosses brought the box of donuts down so I could pick one, since I'm stuck at this desk normally and don't get upstairs where they keep all the goodies, it seems. And "Cal" is going to bring me more freebies from upstairs, a yo-yo and a stressball. It's almost lunch time, and I can't wait to walk down to the little park I discovered yesterday next to our local YMCA. I have discovered a new appreciation for enjoying the outdoors for my little midday break, especially in the last few warm days of the fall.

Raging Receptionist Tip of the Day: Get OUTSIDE for your lunch break!! Get some B vitamins!

Happy Thursday everybody!!

More Gold Stars...Less Hot Guys

So yesterday, I knocked the socks off the head of the accounting department. Literally rendered her speechless. Not only did I have a witness, but this woman that runs accounting is probably one of my most intimidating superiors. She's really buddy-buddy with "Gwen"/Hot Accounting Guy and she's pretty serious most of the time.

So when she calls to ask me about how the mail is being sorted, I barely believed it when I spit out something to the effect of, "Well, it looks like stuff down here was pretty unorganized before. Could you send me an email with the list of all the mail items that always go to you? This is really our chance to reorganize and make sure things are done correctly from here on out."*

*But imagine it sounding like the most beautiful sentence you've ever heard, it was insane.

My coworker "Cal"* stared at me, mouth gaping. I'm pretty sure my eyes were bugging out, I was shocked, too. It took the head of accounting a few seconds to regain her train of thought, and respond, "Yeah, uh, ok. That- that sounds great. I'll send that right over."

*An old high school classmate--yes, I got him the job, because I rock ;)--so named because he just graduated from Berkeley

I thanked her and hung up the phone. I stared at "Cal" with my mouth open, and he mirrored my expression. "Uh, sorry but...GOLD STAR FOR ME!!" He answered, "Yeah! I wasn't gonna say anything, but yeah!"

Basically, we rock.

In other, less exciting news, I also learned a few days ago that Hot Tech Support Guy has a girlfriend. SAD. DAY. In even sadder news, it's not even like I could make it into some kind of fun challenge, because in the same breath that he told me about his girlfriend, he told me she had done a double major in Woman's Studies and [something that I don't remember because he definitely stunned me with the line about the girlfriend] and was now getting her Master's. Basically she's me, but not, particularly in the man department. So he is hereby removed from The List and re-nicknamed "Cool Tech Support Buddy". Now I have more time to spend on "Gwenny" ;V

"Somebody's got a case of the Mondays!"

[Written October 5]

Big exciting day at work today! And by "big exciting" I mean "stressful" and then "boring as hell".

It all started last night, when I suddenly realized that my time card--which I needed to fax to my staffing agency by noon today--was somewhere at home... And I am house sitting 30 miles away. I had to get up an hour earlier than usual so I had enough time to get ready, drive home, get gas, and have enough time to search for the time card in case it wasn't in someplace logical. The 'getting gas' part of that was also extremely crucial. I always get Chevron, I'm a bit of a brand whore about it. If all I had to do was go to work, it would've been no big deal--there's a Chevron station on my way to the freeway. On my way home, however, there is nothing. So I am praying I'll make it to the Chevron station an exit away from my house the entire 25-minute drive home. I don't think I've ever driven so cautiously in my life.

Thankfully, my time card was easily recovered and I even had time to take my chipped-and-ugly black nail polish off. In celebration of the fact that I am officially caught up with the newest episodes of Mad Men, I wore a super cute Joan-style gray dress today. Obviously, Joan would never be caught dead wearing gray, but the cut is totally her! I'm just the modern American version of her. Hooray!

When I do get to work, I have absolutely nothing to do after I've faxed my time card. But despite the boredom, the afternoon has been somewhat productive in the Man Dept.

Ok, people, not that I am advocating office romances or just generally being a major slut-slut and flirting with every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the office, there is nothing wrong with choosing one or two (or even three, depending on the size of your company) cute co-workers with which to engage in witty banter with and bat eyelashes at. After last week I have two front-runners and a third who I am still assessing (read: I keep forgetting to check his hand for a wedding band and he is somewhat awkward in the interpersonal-relations department). I have described them as vaguely as possible (most favorite to least favorite) below.

Candidate Numero Uno...

• Nickname: "Jax", so named because of his slight resemblance to the (adorable) main character of Sons of Anarchy, and the fact that he definitely rides a motorcycle (crotch-rocket or Harley-style is yet-to-be-determined)
• Early Interactions: "Jax" works in Tech Support, and I met him on my first day. He is very nice and a little goofy-looking, but anyone who knows the physical attributes of my past beaus knows I like them a little on the goofy side! As I once told my mother and aunt, who tried to set me up with the former's super-metro/possibly-gay trainer, "I refuse to date any man who is prettier than me--my ego can't handle that!" On my third day he came down on his way out of the office to check up on me--and he had a motorcycle helmet in his hand. Yum. :)
• Today's Developments: After a short and friendly chat on the company email/instant messaging program in the early afternoon, he came downstairs to say Hello and ask how I was doing. He told me how busy he is (60 Tech Support calls today!), and I told him how bored I was and that if he had any clerical/busy work, I would gladly do it. But he didn't really have any of that, he said. His goatee was gone and he was wearing slacks and a button down, upping his attractiveness factor significantly (although detracting somewhat from his similarity to Jax Teller). I turned around and promoted conversation as long as possible.

Candidate Numero Dos...

• Nickname: "Victor", named in honor of the hot FedEx guy from my other job (although "Victor" has got nothing on Victor, looks-wise).
  
• Early Interactions: When he came in to pick up our outgoing packages on my first full day of work, we hit it off right away. He basically comes by to hang out with me for 10 to 15 minutes every afternoon. I crack him up the whole time.
  
• Reality Check: Ok, so maybe he's not a serious candidate for dating, but he seems pretty cool. Definitely Guy Friend material. I definitely look forward to his visits as a way to wrap up the end of the day.
  

Candidate Numero Tres...

• Nickname: "Gwen", after Gwen Stefani, which I called him after he told me that he was screening his calls. "Spiderwebs", anybody? Sorry, I'm a huge No Doubt fan. I may also refer to him simply as "Hot Accounting Guy".
  
• Early Interactions: I go through the mail, open, date-stamp, and sort all the incoming invoices. I then hand them off to "Gwen" because he is the supervisor of Accounts Payable. Thus, daily interaction and lots of chances to work my lady-like charms. ;V
• Today's Developments: One of the women in HR mentioned that she's never seen "Gwen" joke around with anyone ( you know accountants, always so serious and usually a little socially awkward :P). Part of it may also be his extremely dry, sarcastic sense of humor. I get the sense that he could probably keep a straight face through almost anything. I am gifted with an ability to appeal to many types of humor, so as soon as I made it obvious that I understood his humor, I was "in".
• Reality Check: He is older and as attractive as that is, it also distinctly raises the probability that he is in a relationship--or there is something fundamentally wrong with him, hahahaha.
  

"You get a gold star by your name today."

[Written on October 2]

Well, first things first, let me just say--T.G.I.F., and I've only been here for 3 full days! After all the welcome-to-the-company work, I've hit a little bit of a low in work. So what do I do? Surf the net. What about when I get bored of that? Coordinate my planner and my Google Calendar. Check my bank account online. But that doesn't really keep me busy for that long (I have no money and I have no plans). Then I make lists of things I'm gonna need when I get some money (new shoes, snacks for work, that eyeshadow I'm running low on). Still bored and it's only 2:45. Reorganize my desk twenty times. Add "cup for pens" to shopping list and "photo collage for desktop" to to-do list. Look up a store that I have a gift card to and print a map of the location so I can go tomorrow after I go swimming. Check pool hours for the third time in 18 hours. Window-shop online for things I can't afford for at least a couple weeks.

When I get SO bored that I think I'm getting a headache, I finally get my afternoon 15-minute break. And the first real sign of fall is here--the humid drizzle that falls in San Diego during September/October--and I am pretty depressed. I love the sun, the heat, and the general almost-naked-ness that happens from March to September. So when I starting using my heater when I leave for work in the morning and worry in the back of my mind about rain-proof shoes, my general mood level takes a downturn.

The only things I like about Fall/Winter are:

• Christmas. Duh, especially since I realized what an even greater joy it is to give than to receive, as cliche as it sounds. But then it still might be vanity in that I pride myself on getting as personal and unique a gift I can think of (often my own artwork!)
  
• I don't have to wash my car as often. The only good thing about rain. Oh you know and it helps the "Erf".
• Grandma's birthday and the birthdays of my friends Lawyer Lady*, Princess*, and Pinky*. Similar to reasons given for Christmas.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's it. If I think of something else I'll let you know. But now it's a quarter 'til Quittin Time and I have things to do, dates to change.

Already?

Right at the beginning of my second full day and I have one small thing to be annoyed with. Maybe it's just Mr. Upstairs reminding me that the human race he created is inherently flawed. And for those reading, remember that people new to your office are NEW, meaning they have no idea where anything is or what the different rooms are called, so please be as specific as possible, even if it borders on mundane.

One of my duties is to be in charge of the vending machines, call the snack/drink company when machines break, refund money that the machine eats, etc. Now let me tell you, going to the high school I did, if the Coke machine ate your money, you were S.O.L. and Coke was $1.25 richer. And when you get $5 for lunch, that a pretty big chunk to waste. So when grown adults with full-time jobs come to me for a 75-cent refund, I can't help but be a little annoyed. Then, of course, they want the machine(s) fixed. I have no problem calling the company to have a repairman come out, but I need the location of the machine and the type of machine it is. When I call the snack company, they have room numbers for the different machines, and my quarter-hungry co-workers have only given me the arbitrary room names. So I send an email to the two people that had problems with the machines. "The people doing the repairs need to know what kind of machine (snack or soda) is broken and where it is (Building A or B and room number)."

And what emails do I get back this morning? You guessed it, the same worthless information that they'd already told me. Room names and no specifics on what kind of machine was malfunctioning. Nothing even acknowledging that I asked for a room number (such as "the rooms aren't labeled with number, Stupid New Girl, we just know them how they're named" or "I'm not sure about the number, let me check and get back to you). And you can bet your sweet a$$ I am not using my 15 minute breaks to go hunt down this information. Maybe during lunch, but then I have no idea where the Production Dept. is, let alone it's break room.

*Woooo-saaaaaah*

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's Back To Work I Go!!

[Written September 30 on Google Docs]

Hooray! I got me a new job! And it's as a receptionist still, so I don't have to change the name of this blog. Without getting too specific, I can tell you a little bit about the new company I work for.

First of all, it's FRIGGIN HUGE! Well, technically the office I work at is only about 150 people, but they are spread out across 2 ginormous buildings and I am all alone in the front lobby. The last two places I was a receptionist at had no more than 50 people in the office, and especially at the last place, I had a ton of interaction with my coworkers. My tasks so far include very little interpersonal relations. I think once I get an email account things will pick up.

The company has at least one more office in California and presumably offices on the east coast as well. My next task is to read up on the company in the little booklet they gave me. They sell their products and services to companies across the country, so it's a pretty big deal. Between the two buildings there is product assembly, sales, accounts, tech support, accounts, and all the other business necessities: president/CEO, HR, etc. And there are break rooms with vending machines everywhere. I'm pretty excited to see what lunch is like, and meet some people.

I'm pretty stoked because it seems like they are not that dependent on their phone system. I'm allowed to leave the desk to use the restroom at my leisure, I don't have to get someone to cover or worry about the calls not getting picked up. My boss even told me that I could wander around today and meet people. Weird. Cool, but weird. I'm used to being the hub of activity. In the hour-and-a-half that I was answering the phones on my own yesterday, I got three calls, and one of them was from my boss checking on me.

I should probably tell you how I got the job in the first place, huh? Well I was just getting into my usual routine yesterday afternoon (wake up at 10:30, maybe eat something by noon, watch a few episodes of Mad Men...) and I got a phone call around 1pm. It was one of my staffing agencies (my favorite of the three I'm signed up with, actually) letting me know that they had a position I might be interested in, a receptionist, where it was, good pay, etc. Then she said, "But they need you this afternoon. What time do you think you can be there?" First of all, I wasn't super familiar with the part of the county she mentioned, and I still had to shower and put myself together. "Uh...2:00 or a little after?"

"Ok I'll call and check with them and then I'll call you right back." As soon as I hung up the phone, I scrambled into my room, hunting for an outfit. I haven't been to work in almost two months and I had completely forgotten what I used to wear. Not to mention I have no idea how "professional" I'd need to look. Having watched Mad Men obsessively for the past couple weeks, I settled on a dress and pumps. (I also made a mental note to buy a few more dresses because Peggy and Joan are so adorable!) Within minutes I got another call, confirming that 2:00/2:30 would be just fine. Staffing Agency Lady would send me an email with the company address and the name of the woman in HR that I would be asking for. I ran into the bathroom, bouncing off the walls as much as possible to relieve my nervous energy. I know how I can get, and I don't need to showing up to this place acting like a total spaz.

I was out the door by twenty til and the lack of traffic at 2pm meant I could do a little bit of speeding, another stress-reliever. Once I got here, I was relieved to see the dress was a little more relaxed like my last company. I came into a pretty unsettled situation, not awkward-unsettled, but it seemed they just needed to stop, breathe, and get their heads on straight. I don't think my predecessor left the company in a positive way. *Irregardless*, I got a good vibe from the woman training me (she was the receptionist a few years back, and has since advanced through the company) and it seems to be a positive working environment. I also noticed lots of diversity in ethnicities, always a positive thing to see in a company. I later read in their Welcome booklet that diversity is an important value of the company culture. Always a good thing to hear!

So now I am learning more of the ropes. And I got my sweet little name badge that also allows access to the building 24/7...so I can actually get here a few minutes early tomorrow and get myself situated.

Long Time, No Work.

Uggggggghhhhhh...

So I am out of a job. My temporary position ended over a month ago, and still no luck in the job market. I've had a few interviews at staffing agencies, but that still only gets me halfway there. So in the meantime, I am essentially my mom's overpaid, live-in maid and personal assistant, with a part-time maid position with my aunt and uncle. And if I could make any money at painting t-shirts, I would be self-employed. As much as I raged about being a receptionist, I am sending my resume to every open receptionist position within a 35-minute commute range and missing my old job like crazy. The rapidly dissapating savings account may have a great deal to do with that! I suppose it would not be disappearing so quickly if not for that wonderful thing we call alcohol...

Which reminds me, I am also missing school. Where the hell did August go?!?! All of a sudden it's Labor Day and my Facebook page is all a-buzz with my younger counterparts' planning the usual reunion binge-drinking back-to-school celebrations. Three months ago you probably could have BARELY bribed me with $1 million to go right into grad school, but now I am actually excited just to APPLY. It might also have a lot to do with my friend being in law school--she is so happy and excited about the material, I am totally jealous. Grad school sounds great right now.

But for now, I am staying up and sleeping in. Emailing my resume to every want-ad on Craig's List for "Receptionist. Cleaning house and grocery shopping for my mom. Nephew-sitting on Friday mornings and going swimming when I am feeling exceptionally lazy.

All in all, its a decent life. I need to remind myself that although I am unemployed, I need to be grateful for a supportive family who provides the roof over my head and the food on my plate. Unlike many of those who are unemployed across the country, I have been blessed with the opportunity to earn my bachelor's degree and to continue beyond that.

Good luck to everyone looking for a job right now!! (Including ME!)

Let's Play 20 Questions

On second thought, I'd rather die. Unfortunately, as a receptionist, 20 Questions is a game you will inevitably play over and over during your incarceration. This is because the "smart" people that you work for will believe that you either know as much about the project as they do, and therefore should be able to do their little assignment by simply snapping your fingers, or that you have the ability to read minds no matter what distance you are from them. Of course, neither is true.

The last game of 20 Questions I played was with a guy who reminds me of Rain Man, so his nickname will be Ray. I have been making coffee back in the kitchen (a task I loathe), and when I returned to my desk, Ray was bee-lining towards it from the other directed with a stack of paper in his hand. "You weren't at your desk, so I was just going to leave this for you." "This" was a stack of 2 documents, an Overnight Express shipping recepit, and a post-it stuck to the top with a note from Ray, simply stating:

Receptionist--
Can you send these out? Project Numbers 1001 and 1002. Thanks.
--Ray

Yeah, thanks Ray. Now because you didn't fill out our handy-dandy, "no need to clarify 99% of the time" transmittal forms, it's time to play 20 Questions before you leave the office for a meeting that will last for probably over two hours. Remind yourself that I am talking to Rain Main Incarnate, so there is lots of stuttering and pausing...
Me: "There are two project numbers...do you want one transmittal with both numbers on it or two separate transmittals?"
Ray: "Uhhh...uh, y-yeah... Two transmittals, so we can have them in each of the files." (Because I can't just make one transmittal with both numbers and save it in both folders? Goody, more work for me.)
Me: "Ok, and what exactly are these documents? What am I sending?"
Ray: "Oh, it's right here [flips through to the first page of the document, reads off the title]."
Me: "And is there just one of each?"
Ray: "Uhhh...Uh, yeah..."
Me: "And is this [points to Overnight Express receipt return address] who I'm sending it to?"
Ray: "Uhhh...No! No! Not this person... This address, but send it to Bob Smith at this address. That person is probably just some secretary or something." (Uh, yeah, cause I'm just the receptionist...or something...I am getting even more excited to procrastinate as much as possible on this for you, Sir.)
Then, having run out of patience after only four questions and finally being overwhelmed by the nervous energy flowing from Ray's incessant moving and anxiety to leave for his meeting, I say "Ok" and settle into my task.

Barely five minutes into the first transmittal, I realize that I have forgotten to ask perhaps the second most important question of 20 Questions: Transmittal Edition--"How do you want this sent--what service, how fast?" Sh*t, I say to myself. Well, its the perfect excuse to procrastinate. If he had just filled out the transmittal form, this would've been done in minutes.

Having Ray out of the office means two things will happen: I will have more, unpressured time to complete transmittals and other little things for him. Thumbs up. But I will also have to field at least three calls from his cell phone, asking frantically for someone as if it were a life and death matter. Because Ray is just like his cinematic counterpart and has trouble with normal human interaction, all of his calls sound like this:
Me: "Good morning/afternoon, Company Name."
Ray: "Hi Receptionist, this is Ray."
Me: "Hi Ray!"
Ray: [awkward pause where Ray sometimes sounds as if he is choking on air] "Oh, Hi... C-can I talk to, uh, This Person?"
While I was twiddling my thumbs with nothing else to do but practice my mind-reading skills, I was lucky enough to receive one of these calls from Ray. But the add to the awkwardness, I snuck in my question after he had asked for This Person. And his answer was only too annoying: "Oh...uh...uhhh...whatever, I guess." "Does it need to be there quickly or does it not matter?" "Uhh...uh...it doesn't really matter, I guess." I can hear in his voice that we wants to get off the phone with me and back to This Person as soon as humanly possible.

I need to write about 20 Questions With Phone Calls, but I am suffering from a slight case of postprandial hypoglycemia and must find out a way to nap at my desk.

A Little Road Rage...

If you think my receptionist rage is bad, you should see my road rage, yet the commute is probably my favorite part of the whole day. I am all by myself, I can listen to my favorite music, sing at the top of my lungs, and play the same song 15 times if I want to. And I just like driving.


As an avid lover of driving, I also believe that your car says a lot about you, even if its some junker your parents bought for you when they were finally sick of driving you to soccer practice. So on the daily commute I look around at the various stickers, personalized license plates and even license plate frames. It was the latter that sent me on a mini-rage last week.

On this particularly normal day, I noticed a dark blue CR-V or something that was slightly annoying me with its numerous lane changes on an already frustrating ramp from the 94 west to the 5 north. When she settled on the right lane and inched ahead of me, her rear license plate frame (LPF) attracted my attention for whatever reason.





Ok so its not really that big of a deal, but look at those palm trees. Just look at them! Ew. They look like f*cked up marijuana leaves or something. Plus, EVERYONE who thinks they are all cool and Southern Californian have this stupid LPF. She's probably some import from Arizona or the midwest and still calls it "Cali" when she goes home to visit the parentals for Turkey Day. *shiver* (Nothing makes me more nauseous that people calling California "Cali".)


This would also have been a non-event had I not seen another more enraging LPF. This time, the offender was a Mercedes, so you know that mofo has got enough money to get a decent LPF if he wanted it. But no, it was one of those freebie "I'd rather be..." LPF's from Sport Chalet. As your car is an expression of your personality, I was also willing to accept that Mercedes Driver would "rather be cycling", since I have my own that says "I'd rather be swimming." (The veracity of that statement is debatable, but that is for another post.) But this guy had actually taken the time to use a black magic marker to color over "Chalet"...LIKE WE DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS FROM THERE!! Seriously?? You are not ABOVE Sport Chalet, dude, if you are just going to Sharpie out the second word. Plus, you can still see 'CHALET' under the purple-black sheen of the marker ink against the solid black plastic behind it. But really, you drive a Mercedes, get one of your flunkies to go online and order you a personalized LPF that simply says "I'd rather be cycling" if you have so much against Sport Chalet. Come to think of it, he probably sent his flunkies to get that Sport Chalet LPF in the first place--God forbid he step foot in something as low-class as a sporting megastore!! Can someone please get this guy in a Wal-Mart, so he can see what low-class really like? Oy vey!!


Now its time to go eat my delicious sesame seed bagel and check out DListed.com for a while. I'm sure I'll be back later to post more; it feels like a slow Monday.

Welcome to my Personal Hell.

Hi there. I'm a receptionist. How did I get here you ask? Shirley Chisholm has your answer: "The emotional, sexual, and psychological stereotyping of females begins when the doctor says, 'It's a girl.'" Enter me, April 14, 1987, shortly before 3 A.M.

I was 19 when I got my first real, taxes-and-a-paycheck job--as a receptionist. I had just finished my first year of college, and my mom got me a part-time gig at a law firm. Yeah, last time I ever do that shit. Lawyers are douchebags. Sorry, Lawyers of the World, but accept your fate and move on. You are an essential part of the Justice System and all that, but I will never work for you again. Some people like to be treated like garbage or The Invisible Woman, so I will let them take care of your spoiled asses.

I spent three months practically chained to the front desk, frantically answering 50 calls a minute and transcibing voicemail messages from cranky old men in the pre-Bluetooth days (which means horrific static and wind noise as clients left our lawyers messages while they barrelled down the freeway on their way from one fancy meeting to the next...I am convinced that I was forced to transcribe these not for legal records, but simply because the lawyers were too good to translate them themselves). I was utterly confused by the fact that I could not leave the desk at any time, but I still had to take the mail to every single lawyer's office. I was scolded on multiple occasions for not answering the phone fast enough, always because there were one or two cranky clients ahead of the third call which happened to be the biggest prick partner I've ever had the horrible luck to meet.

I hated it so much that I took the entire summer off after my sophomore year. I didn't have money but I had my sanity. The feeling of psuedo-poverty was stronger than the dread of being a receptionist again, however, because I went to work with my sister at an architectural firm while the office manager was on maternity leave and my sister (the receptionist) moved into her position temporarily. Although working with my sister was total bullshit because we practically hate each other, this was definitely an improvement on the lawyer situation. Apparently, people are capable of working in an office and being nice at the same time. Wow!!! It's not perfect, but I'll get to that later.

My sister got pregnant in the early fall, so by the time I graduated, I had a nephew (who, although he was an accident, is still fucking adorable and totally awesome ;) and a temporary job at the same place I'd worked the previous summer. Considering this horrific economy, I had majorly scored and staved off unemployment at least for two and a half months. And although I was no longer working with my sister (hooray!), I was starting to get to the end of my rope with the job. Nothing a good rant or two can't fix.

Under pressure from my friends and a few of my coworkers, I have begun this blog as a way to publicly display my crazy rants...from commuting to conference calls.


Next post: License Plates and Less Is NOT More.