SUGAR HIGH!

I thought I might title the post as something that warn y'all about what may turn into a manic-sounding post. It's Friday, I just got out of work, and I just ingested some Starbucks drink that probably has more sugar than you're supposed to have in a week. YAHOOooOooOOOooooOOO!!!! (that was fun)

So I survived a week. Is that too drastic to say? Is it not accurate to celebarate surviving the first week of a new job? If it makes you feel better, we can say I "finished" a week. Much less dramatic, but nonetheless true. But what is life if not a bit dramatic at times. Or, at least, my life is a bit dramatic all of the time. (wow, you can see the sugar in that sorry excuse for a paragraph)

So, here's an account of various recent happenings in the workplace.

1) I finished my first week of work. Oh yeah, I already mentioned that.

2) I met the most awkward man. He, at the very least, is so shy that he is really, really awkward. I feel so bad for him. He might be a wonderful man. But here's what I've experienced.

Monday, my first day on the job, I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces walk past. Most of them didn't say hello, they just went about their business. One man, however, got about half way across the lobby, saw me, jumped a foot in the air, then literally ran away. I'm not using that term to signify just leaving the scene without communicating, I mean literally running. Head down, bolting for the door. For the next couple of days, every time he walked by (and he walks by more than almost anyone else), he would just stare at his shoes.

By Thursday, he would glance at me every couple of steps, looking terribly frightened and mumbling to himself. It was all I could do to not laugh. Not at him, but just at the absurdity of the situation. Imagine anyone being afraid of me. Exactly. The thought is ridiculous.

I noticed something about this fellow, though. He is always reading on his breaks. At least, I presume he reads on his breaks because he reads as he is walking to and from his breaks. Nose in book, completely absorbed in the contents, but somehow managing to avoid the walls. The book he was reading on Wednesday and Thursday was red. The book he brought in today was blue. This led to our first verbal communication.

He came up the elevator, intently reading. I asked him, in as friendly and non-threatening a voice I could manage, if he'd finished the red book. He looked up, slightly startled, but didn't run away. He asked me what I had said (he hadn't understood what I said) and I repeated the question. I said I noticed him reading and noticed that he'd brought a blue book instead of the red one. He smiled and said he'd finished the red one in two days. I noted that he was a fast reader and his smile widened into a genuine grin. He asked me to buzz him in since his hands were full, which I was happy to do. We're making progress.

3) My boss now knows I'm Catholic
So I have like, a bazillion bosses. But my boss-boss (as far as I can tell, he's the end of my personal chain of command) stopped by my desk today to see how I was. I had met him on Monday, but hadn't really seen him since.

For this story to make sense, I need to share a tidbit. When I sit for too long, my hips pop out of socket. To avoid this dilemma, I have to occasionally kneel on the floor at my computer for five minutes at a time. Ok, so now you know.

Back to the boss-boss. I appreciated that he came by, BUT (and you can probably guess where this is going) he walked in as I was kneeling on the floor. Probably kinda weird for him. He was very professional and stuck to his task, only asking the appropriate question - "How is the job going?" Not "why the heck are you kneeling on the floor???" which is what I would have asked if I had been in his position. So I freely offered the information, explaining my quandary. He laughed and admitted that he wanted to ask, but, as he explained, "then I would end up in HR again getting a lecture." Ah, office policy. He's a guy. I'm not. Hence, questions like "why the heck are you kneeling on the floor???" are apparently faux pax. He offered to get a cushion for me to kneel on. I laughed and told him not to worry about it. "I'm Catholic," I explained. "I'm used to kneeling all the time. And it's Friday, so I could use the extra penance." I begin to suspect he is/was Catholic since this didn't confuse him at all. He just said that Mass was shorter than a work day. True statement. I assured him that I'd let him know if I needed anything. Then he continued on his way to do boss-boss things.

The End.

Day Three

Yet again, a wonderfully creative title. This is what work does to my brain. Zaps the creativity right out of me and replaces it with useless mush. My dreams have evolved into accounting program problems and angry customers on the phone. All day and all night... my life has literally turned into a receptionist/accounting clerk existence. My world revolves around it. At least for now. People assure me that once I get more used to the job, I'll relax more. Maybe even stop dreaming about it. We'll see. I'm not ordinary chopped liver.

And no, I don't know where that last sentence came from.

You may or may not have noticed that Day Two is missing. That, ladies and gentleman, is because I fell asleep at eight o'clock last night. Yup. It wasn't even completely dark outside. I was sooooo tired. I barely zombied my way through putting together lunch before I crashed. Tonight is a (more or less) different story. I am pretty awake. I worked out (yay Zumba!), ate dinner, and actually had the energy to sit in front of my computer for a little while longer. (blog posts don't write themselves) Today just went better. I was busy, a bit overwhelmed at times, but I got through it. I plugged away at stuff, this time fairly confident that I was doing it right. I think I only inadvertently misdirected half a dozen calls instead of... well... possibly all of them. Like what may or may not have happened on Monday.

But I think a very large contributor to my happiness was the fact that I got through "hump day." Since Wednesday is positioned in the middle of the week, it's like getting up to and over the top of a hill. Tomorrow is Thursday, which means the day after that is Friday. And then it's the weekend. Weekends are so much more exciting when you work all week. Then, of course, it will be Monday again, but we won't mention that yet. :)

Day One

Creative title, eh? I'm feeling a little sluggish. I spent so many hours in front of a computer today. Today, as you see, was my first day of work at a real life job. Forty hours a week doing... well, I'm not really sure what. Technically, I'm the receptionist. What I feel like is a random person who walked in the door and has no idea who anyone is or what they do... or even where exactly I am.

You see, I got this job through a temp agency. I didn't apply for this specific job at this specific company. I didn't even intentionally apply to a temp agency. I was on one of those websites where you can efficiently send out resume after resume into the vastness of the internet. All of that aside, I did get a job. A long-term temporary job. Long term, as I'm told, is through Christmas. Ho ho ho.

I know that the company sells promotional products to individuals, small business owners, as well as major distributors. I know that we have different divisions so there are different customer service and billing departments. I know we have an IT department, though who is in it and who is in charge is beyond me. I also know that most of our extensions that I can transfer calls to go out of state, but I never know which state. I know we have a CEO. Somewhere. I think he's in the building. Somewhere. I met his assistant. Great, wonderful, sweet, extroverted assistant.

I spent the day trying to remember the detailed instructions that I was being given and then repeating the tasks. I ran into some issues, though.

The first was that, given my ignorance of the nuances of the company infrastructure, I didn't know where I should transfer the rapidly incoming calls. I made my best guess. I probably also made some departments mad with inadvertently misdirected calls.

Second, I don't speak Spanish. The lady on the phone, who was from Mexico, kept talking louder and louder while I responded slower and slower. Neither of these strategies helped bridge the language barrier.

Third, I spent most of the day working with some sort of accounting program. I think. I'm pretty sure that's what it was. Anyway, I pushed the buttons the way I was instructed. It didn't make sense to me. And since I didn't know what I was doing or why I was doing it, I had nothing by which I could judge the execution of my duties.

True to my philosophy major, I wanted the answer to why. All day. I wanted to ask why. But receptionists... don't ask why. They try not to embarrass the company. And maybe, as a bonus, they escape embarrassing themselves.

Greyhound #2?

It's a question floating around our house. Should we adopt another greyhound? As far as dogs go, they're pretty low maintenance. Short fur, no drool, very little (if any) barking. Our current pet has peculiarities, though. She's super, super hyper during parts of the day. She's a love sponge (read: climbs into your lap at every available opportunity). She freaks out whenever we come back after leaving her alone. Rampaging, jumping, head-butting.

There are three possible outcomes to getting a second one. The problem is, we don't know which one is probable. We'd ask for a calm one (they usually come that way, but we didn't want a boring dog; we picked the most excited one in the kennel).


Scenario 1: Dog 2 Calms Dog 1 Down
Sometimes dogs can have a calming influence on each other. One gets riled up, but sees that the other one isn't joining in the romp and settles back down with its buddy. Maybe Dog 1 could learn some manners from her new friend.


Scenario 2: Dog 2 Has NO Influence on Dog 1
If we get an aloof dog, it's completely possible that Dog 2 won't be involved in Dog 1's life at all. He could just sleep all the time, maybe watch Dog 1 rampage, but Dog 1 and Dog 2 wouldn't have any common activity. Dog 1 would go her way, Dog 2 would go his. No added chaos, but no less chaos either.

Scenario 3: Dog 1 Gets Dog 2 Wound Up
Knowing Dog 1, it's entirely possible that she'd rub off on a new acquisition. Dog 2 might start out aloof and calm, but see the fun and join in. We'd have two big dogs, full of energy, and lacking in manners. And that sounds overwhelming. Someone (like, one of the people) would get killed in the mayhem.

You see our predicament.

(More or Less) Recent Sightings

If a picture is worth 1000 words, this may very well be the longest post I've published in a while. All with so little effort, too. That's how I roll on a lazy day like today.

A racer's drink of choice. (and ya'll thought it was in the genes) 

An allergen free birthday treat and extraordinary birthday candles.

Bright jewelry is appropriate on a July day.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but the greyhound has survived so far.

 

Decorative flowers are all the rage in the dog-o-sphere.

 

Yellow flowers are the best.

Well, maybe a close second after red gerber daisies.

I promised

Here's the link to my Italian Mama's blog:
http://mymultifacetedmusings.blogspot.com/
It has about 300 words on it now.

Alternate Route

Every one of us has been the victim of a traffic jam. Stuck in a car, surrounded by cars, only trying to get somewhere so you can get out of the car. On the streets around town, there are two main culprits: construction zones and schools.

There is always construction somewhere. Whether they're resurfacing, repainting, or simply surveying the land, there are orange cones narrowing lanes or blocking them completely. My family has a theory that the CA unions have some sort of deal where they get to work in an inefficient manner so that they always, always have work.

The schools are another problem. To start, school zones are 25 mph when children are present. Then there is the problem of the massive congestion due to hundreds of SUVs all trying to wend their way through the streets, in and out of parking lots, all the while not hitting the tiny people who seem oblivious to the dangers of walking across the street full of cars driven by middle aged women. On top of all of this are the school buses. Oh, how I hate them. They stop and stick those little stop signs out and you can be stuck for inordinate amounts of time. I understand the need for those stop signs, I really do. Children are incapable of pivoting their heads back and forth to check for traffic. Head pivoting is saved for the classroom where they turn around and talk to their friends instead of doing their math problems. So we all have to stop and wait for them to make their way off the bus and wander across the street or down the sidewalk at their leisure.

Between these two things, what should be my 25 minute commute will be nearly an hour every morning. We'll probably take some detours through neighborhoods to avoid the mass chaos, but there's only so much that can be done. Unless we take a different approach and promote homeschooling. Then everyone could stay in their beautiful houses. Really, it's a win-win. They'd get more for their money. There would be no gas costs. They'd spend more time in their houses, which they are paying large amounts to stay in anyway. They'd reduce their footprint and the carbon footprints of others. We'd all spend less time on the road emitting whatever it is cars emit when they're idling in traffic.

It's an unusual argument for homeschooling, but alternate routes are the best routes sometimes.