I actually have work to do here, amazing! Of course this means I have a lot less time for personal work like blogging.
I have had a few topics I've wanted to blog about- most notably my new found love for podcasts. But I just had 3,000 pounds of magnets delivered to me today, so I suppose I should concentrate on sending some of those out before we move to the 5th floor in two weeks. If you would like a magnet on Perinatal Depression in English, Spanish, Portuguese or all three let me know.
Right now I am listening to the Al Franken Show on Air America, and they are talking about John Prescott saying that Bush is crap. Awesome that our closest ally in the "war on terror" thinks our President is crap. Al thought it might be the word for a type of pudding in England (such as spotted dick), but that idea has proved false and apparently crap means the same thing on both sides of the pond.
That is the cool thing about the work I am doing right now, it is pretty much all number crunching for the distribution plan so I can listen to interesting radio shows while doing it.
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Monday, August 21, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
"Hi, is Mr. (butcher last name) available?....Oh, he passed on last year....well...are you his wife?"
That was my opening line when I was a telemarketer in the summer of 2001. I have had many, many different jobs, and telemarketing is in the top five of "never again" jobs. I worked for a company called Security Financial, we sold living trusts, which is why "oh he passed on?" was frequently part of my pitch.
I hated it, I was terrible at cold calling and always felt I was annoying people and it wore on me. Fortunately my boss really liked me, and gave me a position calling people who had filled out cards asking for more information. This was a great relief because it meant that people weren't entirely shocked when I called, I felt justified in calling them because they had requested information, and I got a little office all to myself. They also paid well, $11/hr plus bonuses for hitting quotas, which I always hit once I was on the cards.
Then in the summer of 2003 I found myself telemarketing again, this time for Zoots, the delivery dry cleaning service. This job really ate away at my soul, because the people I was calling were people that had stopped using Zoots. They had usually stopped with Zoots because they were not happy with the service, and sometimes it was because Zoots had seriously fucked them over. And here I was, representing the company they were displeased with- what a perfect opportunity to vent you anger! Ugh, that job also involved door-to-door sales- I won't even get into that!
Since then I have earned my B.A. and have slept soundly every night knowing that my days of telemarketing were behind me. So why do I find myself calling people whose names I don't know how to pronounce and being treated like shit by the people who answer? Why? Because people don't respond to their e-mails thus forcing me to call them!
Here's the voicemail I leave, since almost no one actually answers:
"Hi, my name is Melanie LaFav, I'm calling from the Department of Public Health, Christine identified (insert Community Health Center name) as an appropriate CHC to be sent some perinatal depression awareness materials we have developed. At this point I am working on the distribution plan and need to find out how many of these materials and what languages we should send to your CHC. If you could call me back at 617 555 5907 or if you'd like to e-mail me at Melanie- M-E-L-A-N-I-E dot LaFav L-A-F like Frank- A-V like Victor at... that would be great, thanks."
Sometimes I get a secretary and they frequently treat me badly and question me a lot because they assume that I am a telemarketer. And then sometimes the person I am trying to contact actually answers. Now, they are usually quite nice to me and are excited about the materials, but this morning I basically got a lecture about how they serve mainly Chinese patients (the materials are in 6 languages but Chinese is not one of them). Did she listen to my pitch? Didn't she hear me say Christine identified her CHC? I don't know anything about your CHC or the population you serve, if I did I would use my knowledge to just send you the materials without having to listen to you bitch me out on the phone!
Ugh, then the very next person I called was a woman I had talked to the week before. We had spoken on the phone and she was happy to receive the materials, I sent her the e-mail (it explains more and then she is supposed to give me the numbers- which the people I have gotten in contact with have been doing) and crickets- so I was calling to follow-up. I got her bitchy secretary who tried telling me that if Dr. Mullen did not reply then they do not need the materials. At this point something started to snap- "No", I explained, "she told me she was interested, she just hasn't responded and I am trying to follow-up. " She came back, "Well the best I can do is give you her voicemail, I can't give you the numbers." When did I ask you for the numbers? That's when it snapped, with a very biting tone I responded, "Yeah, that's all I wanted in the first place."
So clearly I am not making any friends in this process and I am maintaining the highest professionalism. But, seriously, these are free materials to raise awareness amongst your patients who you are supposed to care about. We as a team, and I personally have put a lot of time into developing and testing and re-working these materials and all I want from you is a number- how many do you want? The languages? Don't worry- I can use one of our databases to figure that out....just tell me how many you want! They're free, they're pretty, I promise they won't bite!
************************************************************************************
That was a very boring post, but I am frustrated and needed to vent.
I hated it, I was terrible at cold calling and always felt I was annoying people and it wore on me. Fortunately my boss really liked me, and gave me a position calling people who had filled out cards asking for more information. This was a great relief because it meant that people weren't entirely shocked when I called, I felt justified in calling them because they had requested information, and I got a little office all to myself. They also paid well, $11/hr plus bonuses for hitting quotas, which I always hit once I was on the cards.
Then in the summer of 2003 I found myself telemarketing again, this time for Zoots, the delivery dry cleaning service. This job really ate away at my soul, because the people I was calling were people that had stopped using Zoots. They had usually stopped with Zoots because they were not happy with the service, and sometimes it was because Zoots had seriously fucked them over. And here I was, representing the company they were displeased with- what a perfect opportunity to vent you anger! Ugh, that job also involved door-to-door sales- I won't even get into that!
Since then I have earned my B.A. and have slept soundly every night knowing that my days of telemarketing were behind me. So why do I find myself calling people whose names I don't know how to pronounce and being treated like shit by the people who answer? Why? Because people don't respond to their e-mails thus forcing me to call them!
Here's the voicemail I leave, since almost no one actually answers:
"Hi, my name is Melanie LaFav, I'm calling from the Department of Public Health, Christine identified (insert Community Health Center name) as an appropriate CHC to be sent some perinatal depression awareness materials we have developed. At this point I am working on the distribution plan and need to find out how many of these materials and what languages we should send to your CHC. If you could call me back at 617 555 5907 or if you'd like to e-mail me at Melanie- M-E-L-A-N-I-E dot LaFav L-A-F like Frank- A-V like Victor at... that would be great, thanks."
Sometimes I get a secretary and they frequently treat me badly and question me a lot because they assume that I am a telemarketer. And then sometimes the person I am trying to contact actually answers. Now, they are usually quite nice to me and are excited about the materials, but this morning I basically got a lecture about how they serve mainly Chinese patients (the materials are in 6 languages but Chinese is not one of them). Did she listen to my pitch? Didn't she hear me say Christine identified her CHC? I don't know anything about your CHC or the population you serve, if I did I would use my knowledge to just send you the materials without having to listen to you bitch me out on the phone!
Ugh, then the very next person I called was a woman I had talked to the week before. We had spoken on the phone and she was happy to receive the materials, I sent her the e-mail (it explains more and then she is supposed to give me the numbers- which the people I have gotten in contact with have been doing) and crickets- so I was calling to follow-up. I got her bitchy secretary who tried telling me that if Dr. Mullen did not reply then they do not need the materials. At this point something started to snap- "No", I explained, "she told me she was interested, she just hasn't responded and I am trying to follow-up. " She came back, "Well the best I can do is give you her voicemail, I can't give you the numbers." When did I ask you for the numbers? That's when it snapped, with a very biting tone I responded, "Yeah, that's all I wanted in the first place."
So clearly I am not making any friends in this process and I am maintaining the highest professionalism. But, seriously, these are free materials to raise awareness amongst your patients who you are supposed to care about. We as a team, and I personally have put a lot of time into developing and testing and re-working these materials and all I want from you is a number- how many do you want? The languages? Don't worry- I can use one of our databases to figure that out....just tell me how many you want! They're free, they're pretty, I promise they won't bite!
************************************************************************************
That was a very boring post, but I am frustrated and needed to vent.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
If anyone at work didn't realize I was gay they sure do now!
Cracked out and sad that less than 11 hours later I am back at work I put in my headphones and turned on some of the fine slam poetry of Kit Yan. First poem up- Straight Girls. It wasn't quite loud enough for me so I turned it up all the way. After about 3 minutes I realized that the reason it hadn't been loud enough for me was that the sound was not coming through my headphones. Yes, oh yes, I had plugged to headphones into the mic hole and had blasted Kit's anger over being jerked around by straight girls for all of the office to hear!
I am a genius!
I'm never leaving my cubicle again.
Here are the words that were blasted for all to hear in case you are interested:
Straight girls,
Like to date girls.
And then they go back,
To their boyfriends,
Who don't want them,
And then they go back.
Straight girls,
Like to make girls think they'll love them until the end.
And then they've got the nerve to say, "What? we're just friends."
And I hate that.
I hate girls.
I sound like a second grader.
But there's no better way to truly convey what I feel.
I hate girls.
I hate them because they lie.
And you know those shits that say, "boys lie."
Yeah well,
A better shirt would say, "boys lie, but girls lie to your fucking face and lead you on in an unexplainable way, and then leave you there with so many questions, you wonder if you're still gay!"
Okay, I got carried away.
But it's true.
Girls will fuck with you.
Feed you compliments,
Wear unforgettable scents,
Have deep, meaningful, and intense conversations with you,
Until the cows go home with them on their backs.
Ugh.
I fucking hate girls.
Because they do nice things.
Little things meaningful things.
And if I were a guy, I might not notice at all.
But there's the fucking problem.
I'm a girl.
But I hate girls,
Because I understand the bullshit they file away.
To feed the different girls, that they pretend to date.
"We need to hang out."
But we won't.
"Wow, I had a great time, I'll call you okay?"
And she won't.
"We need to talk."
And that's never good.
"Hey, we'll still be friends."
And we never should,
Have started this fucking piece of shit motherfucking crap to begin with.
No, I haven't lost my mind, just my vocab.
What? You think I chose this path?
My fucking life is like Attack of the Killer Lesbians,
Filled with some of the greatest actresses.
Or some nights it's like meet "Miss Right" on the Woman show.
Behind door number one:
The ever so beautiful experimental bi-curious straight girl, with a long term boyfriend and it was HER who asked YOU out.
Behind door number two:
The elusive bisexual girl, who at first glance, you thought you had no chance, but she hit on you while standing next to the guy she just made out with.
And behind door number three:
Your standard issue L-U-G. Lesbian Until Graduation, my favorite conveniently located at your nearest all-girls college.
Smith, Simmons, Wellesley, wherever.
But oh wait, there's more.
Who's the lovely lady behind door number four?
Ah, your regular old lesbian,
Fully equipped with all the tricks of the trade,
Now this is what a lesbianÂ’s made of.
Doesn't care,
Doesn't call,
Wants everything from you,
Yet nothing at all.
So go ahead, take your pick, but I'm fucking done.
You girls can play your game because you've already won.
And for the record, please don't call.
I am a genius!
I'm never leaving my cubicle again.
Here are the words that were blasted for all to hear in case you are interested:
Straight girls,
Like to date girls.
And then they go back,
To their boyfriends,
Who don't want them,
And then they go back.
Straight girls,
Like to make girls think they'll love them until the end.
And then they've got the nerve to say, "What? we're just friends."
And I hate that.
I hate girls.
I sound like a second grader.
But there's no better way to truly convey what I feel.
I hate girls.
I hate them because they lie.
And you know those shits that say, "boys lie."
Yeah well,
A better shirt would say, "boys lie, but girls lie to your fucking face and lead you on in an unexplainable way, and then leave you there with so many questions, you wonder if you're still gay!"
Okay, I got carried away.
But it's true.
Girls will fuck with you.
Feed you compliments,
Wear unforgettable scents,
Have deep, meaningful, and intense conversations with you,
Until the cows go home with them on their backs.
Ugh.
I fucking hate girls.
Because they do nice things.
Little things meaningful things.
And if I were a guy, I might not notice at all.
But there's the fucking problem.
I'm a girl.
But I hate girls,
Because I understand the bullshit they file away.
To feed the different girls, that they pretend to date.
"We need to hang out."
But we won't.
"Wow, I had a great time, I'll call you okay?"
And she won't.
"We need to talk."
And that's never good.
"Hey, we'll still be friends."
And we never should,
Have started this fucking piece of shit motherfucking crap to begin with.
No, I haven't lost my mind, just my vocab.
What? You think I chose this path?
My fucking life is like Attack of the Killer Lesbians,
Filled with some of the greatest actresses.
Or some nights it's like meet "Miss Right" on the Woman show.
Behind door number one:
The ever so beautiful experimental bi-curious straight girl, with a long term boyfriend and it was HER who asked YOU out.
Behind door number two:
The elusive bisexual girl, who at first glance, you thought you had no chance, but she hit on you while standing next to the guy she just made out with.
And behind door number three:
Your standard issue L-U-G. Lesbian Until Graduation, my favorite conveniently located at your nearest all-girls college.
Smith, Simmons, Wellesley, wherever.
But oh wait, there's more.
Who's the lovely lady behind door number four?
Ah, your regular old lesbian,
Fully equipped with all the tricks of the trade,
Now this is what a lesbianÂ’s made of.
Doesn't care,
Doesn't call,
Wants everything from you,
Yet nothing at all.
So go ahead, take your pick, but I'm fucking done.
You girls can play your game because you've already won.
And for the record, please don't call.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I'm at work- yes the time is correct
I must have gotten into work late- right?
- Nope, been here since 8 am
I must have taken a big lunch break- right?
- Nope, I did actually leave the building to have lunch (something I dont do thaaaat often) with my friend Mike, but I felt really bad when I told my boss I was leaving and only spent like 30 min all told.
I really wanted to get to Ten Thousand Villages which closes at 7pm, so I left at 6 and now IM BACK!
On my way in I saw the doorman in his street clothes on his way home- he just politely chuckled at me.
How do you get in when the doorman has left you ask.
- This is something I am quite used to- you go next door to the apartment building and show them your ID card. I'm used to this since I was here on Sunday, yup Sunday.
Why I am working these ridiculous hours you ask.
- Because we have a grant due on Monday and I want to be able to take Friday off to go down to the dirty Jers and visit with my Batesy (you ready for me Bates? I'll probably be cracked out finals style!). So I will be here, at the office, working on entering in grant edits and making sure the endnotes are all in line- FUN STUFF!
But they did install my new PC today (the old one was over a decade old) and now I have speakers so I am having fun listening to everyone's myspace songs :). The only good thing about being in the office at ungodly hours- the head phones come off and the music is played out loud.
Moral of the story
- If you feel like entertaining me do so! My roommate is afraid we may not get home in time for Project Runway (it starts at 10 pm). We gonna be here for a while!
Friday, March 03, 2006
Out of the Office
Sometimes I do very little here, and then sometimes I have to leave the office to go to regional commitments multiple times a week and on the days I am in I get slammed with all the work that has piled up while I was away.
Well the Maternal Mortality (sounds fun doesn't it?) case files are all in the mail on the way to the reviewers. So I have a little more time on my hands... I will try to post on another topic before I leave today.
Here are the possible titles (I stole this game from Claire):
- Melanie's Olympic Highlights
- Grizzly Man
- First Dates Are So Gay
- My Mother Wishes She Could Still Buckle me in
If you still read my blog, post a comment to cast your vote on which title you would like to see come to life :)
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Sabbatical
I know what you're thinking. "Why is this girl so irregular with her posting?" I know, I know, I'm working on it, but the last couple of weeks have been kinda crazy. I have spent a number of days out of the office doing regional work. Sounds exciting doesn't it? I have enter names and shredding files- do you know what it is like to shred for four straight hours??? And when I have been in the office I have been working on a masterpiece: "Lost Park".
A while ago my mother sent me a picture file of "Lost Park" that someone had sent to her. Lost Park is the characters from "Lost" as "South Park" characters. I was unimpressed with the job this guy had done so I found the build a South Park character website and started working on my own creation.
I was not actually planning on putting it on my Blog but I recently found out that Linds and Lei (two of my most loyal readers) are also Lost fans. So here it is for your viewing pleasure:
A while ago my mother sent me a picture file of "Lost Park" that someone had sent to her. Lost Park is the characters from "Lost" as "South Park" characters. I was unimpressed with the job this guy had done so I found the build a South Park character website and started working on my own creation.
I was not actually planning on putting it on my Blog but I recently found out that Linds and Lei (two of my most loyal readers) are also Lost fans. So here it is for your viewing pleasure:
(It is much bigger, clearer and more detailed in reality- this is the biggest I could get it on here. If you want the full sized version let me know and I'll e-mail it to you)
Comments and suggestions are encouraged ;)
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Where's my Adderal?
Okay, so I actually do not support just throwing pills at problems (I even wrote a term paper on the subject once), but still, sometimes you just want some Adderal.
Yesterday my work paid me to drive 2 hours to my old college town, do 2 hours of data entry, go to lunch with friends, shop around and then drive 2 hours home. IT WAS GREAT! I got so much done, and I had fun, and I was happy. The driving was also awesome- I had to rent a car (see previous post "So Long Cindy") and it was great to drive again, plus my work is going to more than pay for the car and gas.
Unfortunately, it has made today drag by so so so slowly, I just can't concentrate on my work at all, and I have gotten so so little done all day. Oh well, it's almost quitin' time and instead of doing some last minuet work I am updating my blog...
Yesterday my work paid me to drive 2 hours to my old college town, do 2 hours of data entry, go to lunch with friends, shop around and then drive 2 hours home. IT WAS GREAT! I got so much done, and I had fun, and I was happy. The driving was also awesome- I had to rent a car (see previous post "So Long Cindy") and it was great to drive again, plus my work is going to more than pay for the car and gas.
Unfortunately, it has made today drag by so so so slowly, I just can't concentrate on my work at all, and I have gotten so so little done all day. Oh well, it's almost quitin' time and instead of doing some last minuet work I am updating my blog...
Thursday, January 05, 2006
I just went to a meeting where we discussed one of our programs and how we need to "sell it" as cost effective in order for it not to get wiped out. I will be doing research on similar programs to find evidence on their cost effectiveness (thus proving we too are cost effective).
This all seems very adult and professional doesn't it?
I spent the entire meeting with a pair of underwear stuffed in my pants pocket...
...I am the most professional person ever!
This all seems very adult and professional doesn't it?
I spent the entire meeting with a pair of underwear stuffed in my pants pocket...
...I am the most professional person ever!
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
I had a few different interesting/ funny things I was thinking about posting today...BUT I just got lost, in my building on my floor (work)... it went something like this:
karin (my supervisor) sent me on an errand
"go to the third floor and deliver this to terry andersen" (I work on the fourth floor)
so i took the elevator down
as i was waiting for the elevator to go back up i felt foolish, "I'll just walk up to the 4th floor", i thought
so i followed the exit signs to the stairs
I emerged from the stairwell to an office i did not recognize...i stood there dazed...i got a little dizzy...
"what in the world....I am sure I was on the third floor and I went up one flight"
I walked in circles for a few seconds and almost ran into someone
then i started feeling dumb....I can't ask someone for directions, I am in my building, on my floor!
So i decided to just start walking like a knew where I was going....it took a while...few turns and such, before I could finally recognize my surrounds....
I had gone up the stairs on the opposite side of the building, and I had never been over there before....I've been working here for a month!
Man! and I call my mom "directionally challenged"!
karin (my supervisor) sent me on an errand
"go to the third floor and deliver this to terry andersen" (I work on the fourth floor)
so i took the elevator down
as i was waiting for the elevator to go back up i felt foolish, "I'll just walk up to the 4th floor", i thought
so i followed the exit signs to the stairs
I emerged from the stairwell to an office i did not recognize...i stood there dazed...i got a little dizzy...
"what in the world....I am sure I was on the third floor and I went up one flight"
I walked in circles for a few seconds and almost ran into someone
then i started feeling dumb....I can't ask someone for directions, I am in my building, on my floor!
So i decided to just start walking like a knew where I was going....it took a while...few turns and such, before I could finally recognize my surrounds....
I had gone up the stairs on the opposite side of the building, and I had never been over there before....I've been working here for a month!
Man! and I call my mom "directionally challenged"!
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
WELCOME, now let's get to work....
So you may have noticed that I have been MIA for the last couple of weeks. That is because two days into my new job at the Department of Public Health, Division of Perinatal, Early Childhood and Special Needs Health, as a Program Coordinator (try saying that 10 times fast), I was told that we had a grant application due the following Friday.
I was one of three people who were wholly consumed by the "Healthy Weight in Perinatal Women Project" grant application. Everyday my supervisor would come to me to add 5 more things to the list of things I still hadn't accomplished to ensure that the grant got out the door safe and sound. I went from grading sophomore history papers to "editing" a narrative written by an adult woman. It was wonderful!
I think I may be a workaholic of sorts because now that the application is out (we mailed it off 2 minutes before the deadline) there is a lot less for me to do and I am less excited to go to work everyday. But, it means I have time to update my blog (if anyone still bothers stopping by to see if I've actually written). Oh man, I have some good things stored up in my noggin!
I was one of three people who were wholly consumed by the "Healthy Weight in Perinatal Women Project" grant application. Everyday my supervisor would come to me to add 5 more things to the list of things I still hadn't accomplished to ensure that the grant got out the door safe and sound. I went from grading sophomore history papers to "editing" a narrative written by an adult woman. It was wonderful!
I think I may be a workaholic of sorts because now that the application is out (we mailed it off 2 minutes before the deadline) there is a lot less for me to do and I am less excited to go to work everyday. But, it means I have time to update my blog (if anyone still bothers stopping by to see if I've actually written). Oh man, I have some good things stored up in my noggin!
Friday, October 14, 2005
Idle no more...
I think someone at the office must have found my blog. Ever since I posted that I had time to update in the office they have been giving me non-stop projects. But it is good, I am a true American- I live to work. Even though the tasks are mundane, having a reason to get up in the morning and a way to be productive is really good for my mental health. I actually enjoy coming here everyday.
Last night at India Quality my friend Bekka said that people really just need structure to their day, and I totally agree. It made me think about unemployment, I guess I have always focused on the psychological stress of not having money, not being able to provide for yourself and/or your family. But there is also the psychological pain of not having structure to your day, not having some place you are expected to be, some way that you are expected to be productive. It makes you think with the unusually high unemployment rates in our country, how come more psychologically tormented people aren't using their pain as a catalyst to rise up against our incompetent leader who not only hasn't been helping find solutions to the problem but is clearly a huge part of the problem! (wow that sentence was a terrible run-on wasn't it?)
I should stop now...
Last night at India Quality my friend Bekka said that people really just need structure to their day, and I totally agree. It made me think about unemployment, I guess I have always focused on the psychological stress of not having money, not being able to provide for yourself and/or your family. But there is also the psychological pain of not having structure to your day, not having some place you are expected to be, some way that you are expected to be productive. It makes you think with the unusually high unemployment rates in our country, how come more psychologically tormented people aren't using their pain as a catalyst to rise up against our incompetent leader who not only hasn't been helping find solutions to the problem but is clearly a huge part of the problem! (wow that sentence was a terrible run-on wasn't it?)
I should stop now...
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Chaz Tenenbaum took his lunch at his desk...
Is it weird to sit in your sparsely decorated gray cubicle eating lunch and updating your blog?
It is only my second day here at Insulet and I don't really have any friends or anything- not that it's a big deal since I will only be here 3 or 4 weeks. I think most of the people working here are considerably older than me, the receptionist is around my age and very nice, but I don't want to go up to her desk and ask what she is doing for lunch.
I brought a bag of lunch supplies with me because I didn't have time to make my lunch this morning. Is it weird that I have a shopping bag with a loaf of bread, a safflower mayonnaise jar, mustard jar, package of turkey slices and a package of provolone slices in the office fridge? I have never worked in an office before so I don't know, do people do that? It makes sense to me, but so did putting my produce in the freezer in order to preserve it (just in case you are dense like me, here is a warning: NEVER PUT YOUR FRESH PRODUCE IN THE FREEZER, it doesn't preserve it, it kills it!). Maybe I should change the name of this blog to: "The True Adventures of a SoCalGal Living on Her Own for the First Time". What do you think? Too long? Trying to be funny but not succeeding? Anyway, I digress, what do you think about my office lunch supply? Is it weird? I need help with these things. Either way I am leaving my stash here for the week.
Speaking of things I need to know: I am not blessed with the ability to color coordinate. Is this yet another deficiency that I can blame on my mother, or was I born lacking this ability? Right now I am wearing a light tan/khaki colored shirt, forest green cords, and talc blue shoes with tan/khaki colored stripes. What do you think? Do I match? Maybe I will start planning my outfits the night before, then if color coordination is in question I will snap a digital pic, upload it onto my blog, and ask you, my readers, to tell me if it works.
Last year I lived with the people I worked with (very long story, maybe I will share it here some day). Anyway, whenever I had a color coordination issue I would step outside my room and find one of my fashion consultants: Alia and Lori (I will try to find a picture of them to upload after work- such stylish ladies!). I would ask them if I matched or I would run through my shoe options and ask what would work best. The shoes are usually where things go south for me, I can figure out how to match the top and the bottom, but the shoes, ugh! In the past my solution was to have such a plethora ("would you say I have a plethora of pinatas"...there's a prize for the first person who can name that quote!) of shoes to choose from that it was not a problem, but unfortunately during my move from MHC I lost a box with all of my favorite shoes! Thinking about it still makes me cry at night.
Anyway, it seems I have updated my half hour lunch away. More updates later when the inevitable happens and they run out of things for me to do.
Check out my new counter at the bottom...it gives me all sorts of nifty stats- more on that later!
It is only my second day here at Insulet and I don't really have any friends or anything- not that it's a big deal since I will only be here 3 or 4 weeks. I think most of the people working here are considerably older than me, the receptionist is around my age and very nice, but I don't want to go up to her desk and ask what she is doing for lunch.
I brought a bag of lunch supplies with me because I didn't have time to make my lunch this morning. Is it weird that I have a shopping bag with a loaf of bread, a safflower mayonnaise jar, mustard jar, package of turkey slices and a package of provolone slices in the office fridge? I have never worked in an office before so I don't know, do people do that? It makes sense to me, but so did putting my produce in the freezer in order to preserve it (just in case you are dense like me, here is a warning: NEVER PUT YOUR FRESH PRODUCE IN THE FREEZER, it doesn't preserve it, it kills it!). Maybe I should change the name of this blog to: "The True Adventures of a SoCalGal Living on Her Own for the First Time". What do you think? Too long? Trying to be funny but not succeeding? Anyway, I digress, what do you think about my office lunch supply? Is it weird? I need help with these things. Either way I am leaving my stash here for the week.
Speaking of things I need to know: I am not blessed with the ability to color coordinate. Is this yet another deficiency that I can blame on my mother, or was I born lacking this ability? Right now I am wearing a light tan/khaki colored shirt, forest green cords, and talc blue shoes with tan/khaki colored stripes. What do you think? Do I match? Maybe I will start planning my outfits the night before, then if color coordination is in question I will snap a digital pic, upload it onto my blog, and ask you, my readers, to tell me if it works.
Last year I lived with the people I worked with (very long story, maybe I will share it here some day). Anyway, whenever I had a color coordination issue I would step outside my room and find one of my fashion consultants: Alia and Lori (I will try to find a picture of them to upload after work- such stylish ladies!). I would ask them if I matched or I would run through my shoe options and ask what would work best. The shoes are usually where things go south for me, I can figure out how to match the top and the bottom, but the shoes, ugh! In the past my solution was to have such a plethora ("would you say I have a plethora of pinatas"...there's a prize for the first person who can name that quote!) of shoes to choose from that it was not a problem, but unfortunately during my move from MHC I lost a box with all of my favorite shoes! Thinking about it still makes me cry at night.
Anyway, it seems I have updated my half hour lunch away. More updates later when the inevitable happens and they run out of things for me to do.
Check out my new counter at the bottom...it gives me all sorts of nifty stats- more on that later!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Live From the Cubicle
First of all, I have decided that my previous print size was too small. My blog is boring enough as it is, I don't need to make it difficult to read to discourage people from reading it.
I am now getting the first taste of what my good buddy Claire does all the time. I am updating my blog during work. As I type I am sitting in my own little gray cubicle in the Insulet building in the middle of suburban Massachusetts. My job so far is to enter data, scan sheets and upload, name and save said sheets. Images of Dilbert comics keep running through my mind...
Things I have decided/ observed:
1. I need to decorate my cubicle (I will be here 3-4 weeks...that's long enough right?)
2. 7 or 8 men in the office have a "weight loss pool" going on (I will describe this more below)
3. While in the bathroom the idea of doing coke while in the office flashed through my mind.
a. no, I have never snorted coke (long story), but I could understand how someone
doing a mundane data entry job like mine would want to.
4. I like the power that my access card (which is clipped to me and has a zippy string) gives me.
5. Fall in New England is cold but gorgeous
a. since this is my 6th year out here I already new that, but I was just reminded
6. I have noticed some people wearing jeans...nice jeans + nice shirt= dressy cas.?
I am now getting the first taste of what my good buddy Claire does all the time. I am updating my blog during work. As I type I am sitting in my own little gray cubicle in the Insulet building in the middle of suburban Massachusetts. My job so far is to enter data, scan sheets and upload, name and save said sheets. Images of Dilbert comics keep running through my mind...
Things I have decided/ observed:
1. I need to decorate my cubicle (I will be here 3-4 weeks...that's long enough right?)
2. 7 or 8 men in the office have a "weight loss pool" going on (I will describe this more below)
3. While in the bathroom the idea of doing coke while in the office flashed through my mind.
a. no, I have never snorted coke (long story), but I could understand how someone
doing a mundane data entry job like mine would want to.
4. I like the power that my access card (which is clipped to me and has a zippy string) gives me.
5. Fall in New England is cold but gorgeous
a. since this is my 6th year out here I already new that, but I was just reminded
6. I have noticed some people wearing jeans...nice jeans + nice shirt= dressy cas.?
The weight loss pool
Dear readers, it has happened again, I have written a detailed account of something, and then pressed spell check only to have my changes disappear due to a pop-up blocker. This is at least the third time this has happened to me, you'd think I'd have learned by now! Anyway here is the gist:
- men, no women, just men in a weight loss pool
- participants are weighed weekly
- for each pound lost you are paid one dollar by each of the other participants
- if you gain weight you pay each participant $2
- you must pay $50 for early evacuation from the pool
- there is no consideration for percentage of body weight lost (big guys and small guys get paid the same for each pound lost)
- some guy was upset and having a fit about his less than pound weight loss not counting since he was small to begin with....if he was small to begin with why did he enter the pool? (my guess is it was peer pressure, like when the "cool kids" tried to get you to smoke cigarettes in Jr. High!)
- I appreciate men complaining to each other about their weight loss problems
- of course men found a way to make weight loss a competitive sport!
Friday, September 16, 2005
The Wonderful World of Temping
So since I have yet to find a "real" job- I am not sure what I think that means yet, I am working for a temp agency. So far I have passed out fliers for RCN, passed out food samples at Costco and now (at this very moment) I am filling in for John H. McArthur's (Dean Emeritus at Harvard Business School) personal assistant.
My temp agency woke me up- it was 10am so I should have been awake but I was not, to ask me if I could take the job....I said yes and they proceeded to call me every 10 minuets for an update on how long it would take me to get there... finally at noon I arrived. Imagine my suprise when I walked into a little office all to myself with no John McArthur in site...not the bustling and assistantless impared office that I pictured based on how urgently they needed me.
Fast foreward two hours...John is still out (the paper I was left says he had a tour at 1130 and then a meeting after that). I have retrieved and recorded 3 messages, and I have answered the phone twice and taken those messages, and finally I took the newspapers out of the incoming mail bin and rather than "toss them" as I was told to do I have left them under my purse and plan on taking them with me when I leave at 5pm.
I have checked my e-mails, all three, written e-mails, played on facebook....which I am addicted to now, read Sadaf's and Claire's blogs....thus I am updating my own. I have had a snack, drank a bottle of Nantucket Nectar apple juice which I was told to help myself to from the mini fridge. I read a little of my book, Bone Black by bell hooks....it is wonderful...read it.
WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY PAYING ME FOR?! Surely this man is competent enough to have lasted the day without me sitting in his assistants very unconfortable and I am assming ergenomically correct chair and diddiling on her computer.
HOLD THE PHONE! John just returned...I gave him the messages....the mail came I opened it and sorted it accordingly....One of the pieces of mail was an invite from MATCH to the symphony- it promptly went into the trash when John saw it. AND the phone rang twice in a row....whew! And now back to down time....
Meanwhile life has continued for the kids at MATCH and I miss them so so much....I wish I was still there. That job was soo much work for peanuts but I would LOVE to still be there!
My temp agency woke me up- it was 10am so I should have been awake but I was not, to ask me if I could take the job....I said yes and they proceeded to call me every 10 minuets for an update on how long it would take me to get there... finally at noon I arrived. Imagine my suprise when I walked into a little office all to myself with no John McArthur in site...not the bustling and assistantless impared office that I pictured based on how urgently they needed me.
Fast foreward two hours...John is still out (the paper I was left says he had a tour at 1130 and then a meeting after that). I have retrieved and recorded 3 messages, and I have answered the phone twice and taken those messages, and finally I took the newspapers out of the incoming mail bin and rather than "toss them" as I was told to do I have left them under my purse and plan on taking them with me when I leave at 5pm.
I have checked my e-mails, all three, written e-mails, played on facebook....which I am addicted to now, read Sadaf's and Claire's blogs....thus I am updating my own. I have had a snack, drank a bottle of Nantucket Nectar apple juice which I was told to help myself to from the mini fridge. I read a little of my book, Bone Black by bell hooks....it is wonderful...read it.
WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY PAYING ME FOR?! Surely this man is competent enough to have lasted the day without me sitting in his assistants very unconfortable and I am assming ergenomically correct chair and diddiling on her computer.
HOLD THE PHONE! John just returned...I gave him the messages....the mail came I opened it and sorted it accordingly....One of the pieces of mail was an invite from MATCH to the symphony- it promptly went into the trash when John saw it. AND the phone rang twice in a row....whew! And now back to down time....
Meanwhile life has continued for the kids at MATCH and I miss them so so much....I wish I was still there. That job was soo much work for peanuts but I would LOVE to still be there!
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