Sunday, May 04, 2008
Is there a baby?
Holy crap, if there's not an update on Dosmamas soon, I'm going to bust a gasket. Blow a gasket? Well, whatever you do with gaskets.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Feeling Snarky
I visited my goddaughter this morning to take her a birthday present; I couldn't wait for her party later today! It was magical to see her little face light up with excitement when she saw her very own tricycle. It was a lovely morning visit, complete with the requisite first spills onto the concrete.
Then I came home and got on the internet. And started feeling more and more snarky the more I read on one of the IF boards I frequent. It seems like most of the posts are rubbing me the wrong way today. I know that a part of it is me; yes, I'm happy that today is my goddaughter's birthday, but I'm a little sad because before the m/c I had figured out that I'd be moving into my third trimester when this day rolled around.
It was all coincidental, but it was really neat: I'd have just moved into my 2nd tri about the time Mama Shel's son Miles was born. I'd be moving into my 3rd tri when my goddaughter turned 3. My little one would be born right around, or maybe even ON, one of my BFF's birthday. Now, instead, all of these joyous occasions will be slightly dimmed for me.
But back to the IF bulletin boards! Yes, I'm a little off-center, but this isn't all me; I was bent out of shape about some of these issues long ago, so I know it isn't all personal issues making me ticky.
Private-- even password protected-- forums
This particular site now offers completely private forums. You can create your own little place, not appear in the directory, and even set up a password so that even if someone accidentally managed to stumble upon your little group, they couldn't enter.
Now that this is possible, every group that feels like it's been persecuted, gawked at, or just plain doesn't want anyone else to see their board, can create a secret-squirrel forum. What. Utter. Bullshit.
It's very simple: If you don't want anyone to see what you've written, then don't write it on a semi-public internet message board, idjit. If you want to have a truly private place to have your high school-esque clique, where no one can join without your approval & no one else can see what you write, then go somewhere like Yahoogroups or MSN groups and make your own little place for free.
You see, I paid my membership fees to this site (yes, it is one of those you pay for!), and that is supposed to give me access to all the bulletin boards. But now, suddenly, there are going to be countless boards that my $$$ can't get me access? Look, if I want to go and read the forum about "Raising & Milking Goats for Fun, Profit, and to Feed Your Newborn," I should be able to. Even though I don't have a goat. Or a goat-milk drinking baby. Or a baby at all, for that matter. It's a forum on the boards that I paid to be on, and therefore I feel I should have access to it.
I know that some people feel like they've gotten more attention than they'd like, or that they've gotten negative attention, on "their" board. So they think this privacy thing is super-de-dooper. But I really just think that:
-It isn't "your" board, even if you created it; it's just a board where a topic you relate to is discussed. The board belongs to the website, therefore any paying member of the website has a right to read and comment there.
-Yes, one would hope that people would be respectful of certain situations and of others' feelings, but let's be real. A bulletin board is just like life: some people will be wonderful and supportive, some will stand on the sidelines and just watch, and some will be total & complete asshats. And because it can be fairly anonymous, the asshats often feel free to be even more asshattier than they would in Real Life. (Asshattier? Did I just make up a new word?)
-If you like to be on "your" board because you get support and help from the others there, WHY would you take it private and deprive others of the opportunity to get that same help?!? As you can see, this whole thing is just punching all my buttons.
Swaying for Gender
There are a lot of women/couples who are not only trying to have a baby, but who are trying to have a baby of a specific gender. I've always thought this a little silly, but can somewhat understand a mom of 4 boys wishing she had a girl. Okay, I'm lying; I really don't understand it. Or, rather, I can intellectually see it, but it just doesn't make any emotional sense to me.
I know that my views are slanted because of my own experiences and circumstances, but I kinda think trying tricks and popping pills to have a certain gender is somewhat arrogant and ungrateful. Having the arrogance to assume that you definitely will conceive no matter what, so it's fine to "sway" with positions, pills, potions and intercourse timing. Being so ungrateful that you're not excited enough about possibly having a child, but that it needs to be a certain gender to make you happy.
Not to mention that this whole TTC business is often involved enough without adding in another variable in the form of gender selection. Is it really such a horrible thing to have 4 boys, instead of 3 boys and a girl? In the modern industrialized world, where rules of masculine primogeniture are no longer important, is it really that vital to try for a son after having 2 girls? Again, even typing that makes me feel slightly ill, as someone desperately wishing for just a child, period.
I will be fair--which is not very easy today-- and say that I don't think that all swayers are horrible people. I really don't. But the horror cases I've seen, coupled with my own background, make me cringe whenever I look at those kinds of boards. And with the mood I'm in today, I don't know why I went there. I always have this voice in my head growling things that Are Not Nice.
But you know what? I'm an adult, which means I didn't write anything snarky there. That's what I have a blog for.
Then I came home and got on the internet. And started feeling more and more snarky the more I read on one of the IF boards I frequent. It seems like most of the posts are rubbing me the wrong way today. I know that a part of it is me; yes, I'm happy that today is my goddaughter's birthday, but I'm a little sad because before the m/c I had figured out that I'd be moving into my third trimester when this day rolled around.
It was all coincidental, but it was really neat: I'd have just moved into my 2nd tri about the time Mama Shel's son Miles was born. I'd be moving into my 3rd tri when my goddaughter turned 3. My little one would be born right around, or maybe even ON, one of my BFF's birthday. Now, instead, all of these joyous occasions will be slightly dimmed for me.
But back to the IF bulletin boards! Yes, I'm a little off-center, but this isn't all me; I was bent out of shape about some of these issues long ago, so I know it isn't all personal issues making me ticky.
Private-- even password protected-- forums
This particular site now offers completely private forums. You can create your own little place, not appear in the directory, and even set up a password so that even if someone accidentally managed to stumble upon your little group, they couldn't enter.
Now that this is possible, every group that feels like it's been persecuted, gawked at, or just plain doesn't want anyone else to see their board, can create a secret-squirrel forum. What. Utter. Bullshit.
It's very simple: If you don't want anyone to see what you've written, then don't write it on a semi-public internet message board, idjit. If you want to have a truly private place to have your high school-esque clique, where no one can join without your approval & no one else can see what you write, then go somewhere like Yahoogroups or MSN groups and make your own little place for free.
You see, I paid my membership fees to this site (yes, it is one of those you pay for!), and that is supposed to give me access to all the bulletin boards. But now, suddenly, there are going to be countless boards that my $$$ can't get me access? Look, if I want to go and read the forum about "Raising & Milking Goats for Fun, Profit, and to Feed Your Newborn," I should be able to. Even though I don't have a goat. Or a goat-milk drinking baby. Or a baby at all, for that matter. It's a forum on the boards that I paid to be on, and therefore I feel I should have access to it.
I know that some people feel like they've gotten more attention than they'd like, or that they've gotten negative attention, on "their" board. So they think this privacy thing is super-de-dooper. But I really just think that:
-It isn't "your" board, even if you created it; it's just a board where a topic you relate to is discussed. The board belongs to the website, therefore any paying member of the website has a right to read and comment there.
-Yes, one would hope that people would be respectful of certain situations and of others' feelings, but let's be real. A bulletin board is just like life: some people will be wonderful and supportive, some will stand on the sidelines and just watch, and some will be total & complete asshats. And because it can be fairly anonymous, the asshats often feel free to be even more asshattier than they would in Real Life. (Asshattier? Did I just make up a new word?)
-If you like to be on "your" board because you get support and help from the others there, WHY would you take it private and deprive others of the opportunity to get that same help?!? As you can see, this whole thing is just punching all my buttons.
Swaying for Gender
There are a lot of women/couples who are not only trying to have a baby, but who are trying to have a baby of a specific gender. I've always thought this a little silly, but can somewhat understand a mom of 4 boys wishing she had a girl. Okay, I'm lying; I really don't understand it. Or, rather, I can intellectually see it, but it just doesn't make any emotional sense to me.
I know that my views are slanted because of my own experiences and circumstances, but I kinda think trying tricks and popping pills to have a certain gender is somewhat arrogant and ungrateful. Having the arrogance to assume that you definitely will conceive no matter what, so it's fine to "sway" with positions, pills, potions and intercourse timing. Being so ungrateful that you're not excited enough about possibly having a child, but that it needs to be a certain gender to make you happy.
Not to mention that this whole TTC business is often involved enough without adding in another variable in the form of gender selection. Is it really such a horrible thing to have 4 boys, instead of 3 boys and a girl? In the modern industrialized world, where rules of masculine primogeniture are no longer important, is it really that vital to try for a son after having 2 girls? Again, even typing that makes me feel slightly ill, as someone desperately wishing for just a child, period.
I will be fair--which is not very easy today-- and say that I don't think that all swayers are horrible people. I really don't. But the horror cases I've seen, coupled with my own background, make me cringe whenever I look at those kinds of boards. And with the mood I'm in today, I don't know why I went there. I always have this voice in my head growling things that Are Not Nice.
But you know what? I'm an adult, which means I didn't write anything snarky there. That's what I have a blog for.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Days of My (Temporary) Life, week 3
April 14: Monday, week three
When I got in, there was a new person in Joanne’s cubicle. Yes, the axe had fallen on Friday, and they hadn’t even had the decency to tell Joanne that she was being let go. Karol fell back on the thing of, notify the agency, and they’ll call the temp and let them know not to go back.
I know it’s the way it goes sometimes, and that it works in the temp employee’s favor as well. Like, if you get into a situation that really isn’t working out for you, you don’t have to tell the employer that you’re quitting; no, you tell your AGENCY, and they contact the employer to tell them that you’re “declining further work on this assignment” and that they’ll fill your shoes right away.
I still think it’s shitty to look a person in the eyes on Friday and say, “Have a nice weekend,” knowing all along that you’ve basically fired them and didn’t tell them. Once again I will say, I am SO happy that I’m in the file room.
The new temp girl’s name is Beryl. She seems nice. The other A/P clerk, Andrea—who is great but barely got mentioned in the previous post—is a little frustrated. Apparently the brunt of training the temps falls on her shoulders, and Beryl is the third one in about two months. Supervisor Karol keeps running through them, or running them off, I guess.
April 16: Wednesday, week three
Beryl is very upset. Reportedly, on yesterday. Karol became frustrated while trying to teach Beryl something, and hit her on the arm to make her stop moving the mouse. Beryl says that her arm hurts still, a day later, and that she is uncomfortable with Karol. Beryl went down to Human Resources and reported the incident.
Karol admitted that she hit Beryl, but claimed that it was a slap on the arm, rather than the punch that Beryl is reporting. Either way, she now has an adverse record in her employee file.
I am in disbelief that there is more drama happening in this teeny-tiny department. And am glad that I’m only here for this week to do more filing, and then I’m outta here!
April 18: Friday, week three
Once again, at barely past 8:00am, while I was fixing my first cup of Joe, Karol approached me. And again, she asked if I’d like to learn A/P, and stay on for a while. She’d had a meeting the day before, where it had been divulged that the company had recently acquired several new companies, and the A/P department here would be taking on their work when things get settled over the next couple of months. As a consequence, not only do they need temp Beryl, but the Powers That Be have stated that she should hire two MORE temps as well. I still think Karol is kinda nuts, but also think that if the universe threw this at me twice, I should pay attention. I told her I would accept the assignment, and we both got to work making it happen.
Even though I had some grave misgivings, I reminded myself that it’s a temp assignment: if I end up disliking the work, or finding that I absolutely couldn’t work with Karol, then I could always quit and get another assignment. My agent knew about Karol, not only from me, but also from Beryl (who came through the same agency as I).
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not someone who just quits things on a whim. In fact, my temperament is stubborn enough that I’ll often stay at something long past the time I should have stopped; but I’m just too stubborn to “give in”. But in this case, I had to give myself the mental relief of a possible “out” to feel comfortable with taking on the A/P job.
So, bwahaha, the joke’s on me. For three weeks straight I’ve told myself, “It’s just two (three) weeks; no matter how nuts it is around here, you can put up with it for a couple of weeks and a paycheck.” And now I’m going to be working here for a bit. Yep, feeling all kinds of mixed up.
When I got in, there was a new person in Joanne’s cubicle. Yes, the axe had fallen on Friday, and they hadn’t even had the decency to tell Joanne that she was being let go. Karol fell back on the thing of, notify the agency, and they’ll call the temp and let them know not to go back.
I know it’s the way it goes sometimes, and that it works in the temp employee’s favor as well. Like, if you get into a situation that really isn’t working out for you, you don’t have to tell the employer that you’re quitting; no, you tell your AGENCY, and they contact the employer to tell them that you’re “declining further work on this assignment” and that they’ll fill your shoes right away.
I still think it’s shitty to look a person in the eyes on Friday and say, “Have a nice weekend,” knowing all along that you’ve basically fired them and didn’t tell them. Once again I will say, I am SO happy that I’m in the file room.
The new temp girl’s name is Beryl. She seems nice. The other A/P clerk, Andrea—who is great but barely got mentioned in the previous post—is a little frustrated. Apparently the brunt of training the temps falls on her shoulders, and Beryl is the third one in about two months. Supervisor Karol keeps running through them, or running them off, I guess.
April 16: Wednesday, week three
Beryl is very upset. Reportedly, on yesterday. Karol became frustrated while trying to teach Beryl something, and hit her on the arm to make her stop moving the mouse. Beryl says that her arm hurts still, a day later, and that she is uncomfortable with Karol. Beryl went down to Human Resources and reported the incident.
Karol admitted that she hit Beryl, but claimed that it was a slap on the arm, rather than the punch that Beryl is reporting. Either way, she now has an adverse record in her employee file.
I am in disbelief that there is more drama happening in this teeny-tiny department. And am glad that I’m only here for this week to do more filing, and then I’m outta here!
April 18: Friday, week three
Once again, at barely past 8:00am, while I was fixing my first cup of Joe, Karol approached me. And again, she asked if I’d like to learn A/P, and stay on for a while. She’d had a meeting the day before, where it had been divulged that the company had recently acquired several new companies, and the A/P department here would be taking on their work when things get settled over the next couple of months. As a consequence, not only do they need temp Beryl, but the Powers That Be have stated that she should hire two MORE temps as well. I still think Karol is kinda nuts, but also think that if the universe threw this at me twice, I should pay attention. I told her I would accept the assignment, and we both got to work making it happen.
Even though I had some grave misgivings, I reminded myself that it’s a temp assignment: if I end up disliking the work, or finding that I absolutely couldn’t work with Karol, then I could always quit and get another assignment. My agent knew about Karol, not only from me, but also from Beryl (who came through the same agency as I).
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not someone who just quits things on a whim. In fact, my temperament is stubborn enough that I’ll often stay at something long past the time I should have stopped; but I’m just too stubborn to “give in”. But in this case, I had to give myself the mental relief of a possible “out” to feel comfortable with taking on the A/P job.
So, bwahaha, the joke’s on me. For three weeks straight I’ve told myself, “It’s just two (three) weeks; no matter how nuts it is around here, you can put up with it for a couple of weeks and a paycheck.” And now I’m going to be working here for a bit. Yep, feeling all kinds of mixed up.
Days of My (Temporary) Life, weeks 1&2
Sweet readers, you probably won’t want to bother to read this post, as it is mostly a “Dear Diary”/journal type entry primarily meant to document the last few weeks at my current assignment before I forget it all. Very long, and very boring, to anyone but me, really. Not to mention how terrible it all is, switching tenses every other sentence!!!
March 31, 2008: Monday, week one
This assignment is way out on the edge of nowhere. I have, quite literally, never driven on the expressway as far as the needed exit. Am seriously starting to wonder if the low pay I’ll earn for the two weeks of filing is worth it, considering how ridiculously high gasoline prices are.
Met the boss, a woman named Karol (names changed to protect myself, as none of these people are innocent!). Met the other A/P person, a young woman named Andrea. And there was one other poor unfortunate, a financial temporary employee named Joanne.
Quickly discovered that Supervisor Karol has absolutely zero patience with Joanne. Despite the fact that Joanne is old enough to be Karol’s mother, Karol talks to her as if she is a child. No, I take that back; I wouldn’t speak to a child this way! Very scathing, very condescending, and showing no patience at all. Am very glad that I’ll be half a building away, working in “my” solitary fileroom.
April 1-4, rest of week one
Spent at least half of each day OUT of the fileroom, accomplishing nothing at all. There are issues with the computer in my theoretical cubicle, and I have to be on hand as the computer tech works on it so I can repeatedly try to sign on and log in to various things.
Felt very frustrated, as I am getting next to nothing done. Kept wondering two things: one, why can’t the tech log in using his own identity to see if the programs are loaded correctly? Is it really necessary to keep me standing—yes, standing, as there are no extra chairs anywhere around here—for hours while he works? And two, why is it so freakin’ important for me to have full computer access? I’m here for two weeks, filing, and then I’m out of here, suckers.
Karol stinks. She actually stinks, as in a bad smell. I can’t figure out what it is. It isn’t funk, like someone who didn’t shower. It isn’t pee or feces, or anything like that. It isn’t that weird mildew odor I’ve smelled on some people when they have super-thick hair, and don’t dry it completely (and it stays vaguely damp and gross all day and evening). I have no idea what is causing her odor. I found out she’s a dog person, and wonder if it has something to do with that. But you know, I’ve been around plenty of crazy dog & cat people, and have never smelled anything like this before.
At first I thought it was just my imagination, because surely no one could smell that bad and not know it. But the other temp made it clear in our private conversations that yes, Karol does reek. I nearly gagged one day when she stood too close to me for several minutes in conversation.
April 7-10, week two
The denigrating behavior continues towards Temp Joanne. Karol’s mouth is really something. She’s one of those people who just doesn’t know how to talk to people, you know? I don’t see how Joanne takes it. I would’ve told her off ages ago if she’d been talking to me like that. I know that we all have to suck it up sometimes on the job, and take crap we’d rather not, but Karol is really beyond the pale.
Oddly enough, except for one comment last week, I don’t get any lip or attitude from Karol. I’d asked her if she could help me with a question I had. She snarkily said, “No,” very flatly. I just shrugged, and said I could just go back and do my work in the fileroom, then, instead of this special thing she’d asked me to do. I think I shocked her, just calmly stating what I was going to do. She kinda sniffed, and mumbled something about me having a lot of lip, especially for a temp. But you know what? I haven’t had a real problem with her since. Still, I’m sincerely looking forward to the end of this assignment.
I found out that Karol just got promoted to the supervisor position about a month or two ago. I tried to take that into account, that maybe she’s nervous and uncertain about her new job, but that still doesn’t excuse the way she talks to people.
April 11, Friday of week two
Karol ambushed me at the coffee machine at approximately 8:03am, while I was fixing my first cup. She came right out and told me that temp Joanne wasn’t working out, and that she was going to let Joanne go. Then she asked me if I’d be interested in staying on to take Jo’s place, and learning accounts payable.
I was completely taken aback for so many reasons. First of all, I hadn’t had a single sip of black nectar, and I don’t function well without a tiny bit of caffeine. Second, the few pistons that were firing in my brain were appalled that she was being un professional enough to tell me—a temp—that she was dismissing an employee, to see if I’d be interested in her position. Third, I absolutely, positively, did not want to work for this woman, and my poor brain was at a loss for a way to refuse. I finally came up with, “Um, I have to talk to my agency,” and escaped as fast as I could to my hidey hole (the fileroom).
Well, she didn’t wait to get further word from me. She just went right ahead and told the head of HR that she wanted to keep me on, and asked HR to talk to my agency. When she told me that, I was like WTF?!?!?!?
So I hurriedly went to talk to my agent on a break to give her a heads up about the situation. That I did NOT want to work closely with Karol, not the way I’d have to as an A/P person. I had been fine working in the fileroom, but would be driven mad if I had to have constant contact, being in the next cubicle over. My agent assured me that she would take care of the situation, and I didn’t have to worry my pretty little head about it.
Of course, I couldn’t leave it at that. I decided to nip everything in the bud as soon as I got back to the office. I calmly and quietly told Karol that I didn’t feel comfortable taking an A/P job since I had practically no experience in that area. The accounts payable that I’d done on a previous job was such a different process that it really didn’t count at all. Karol accepted it, saying that it wasn’t going to hurt her feelings if I didn’t want to do A/P.
But then, just to add another twist to the story, Karol offered me a third week of fileroom work. Even though I’d finished up my two weeks and assigned tasks, she had more she wanted done. I felt weird about it, but Mama needs a new pair of shoes (so to speak) so I accepted the assignment.
The rest of the day was surreal. I interacted with Temp Joanne, with whom I’d developed a great rapport over two weeks, knowing all along that she was going to let go. The part of me that is subconsciously involved in the Black Conspiracy urged me to tell her, or at least hint, that her job was ending. The part of me that insists on keeping to certain codes of professional behavior even when others around me are not, urged me to keep my mouth shut and stay out of the whole situation.
The universe decided to take pity on me, and gave me an out. I overheard conversations of Karol’s where she was speaking to someone, in despair about the resumes she’d looked over. Apparently, even though they had been using temps in the A/P position, they were advertising inside the company for someone to take on the job as regular/full time, and she hadn’t really cared much for the applicants she’d been presented with so far.
Then Joanne came to the fileroom to talk to me; she needed to vent, bigtime. She told me about the latest fracas, and how she was having a hard time Remaining Christian and keeping quiet and meek, when Karol spoke so badly to her. She then confided that she’d called her agency that afternoon, asking that they start looking for another assignment because she wasn’t going to be able to take Karol much longer.
And that was when it all came together: a way to give a bit of warning to a fellow temp, without (fully) compromising myself. I casually said that it was probably good timing on her part, as I’d overheard how “They” were about to hire someone permanently for the position. I felt so much better. I’d managed at least a little warning, without telling her she wouldn’t be there much longer. TGIF.
March 31, 2008: Monday, week one
This assignment is way out on the edge of nowhere. I have, quite literally, never driven on the expressway as far as the needed exit. Am seriously starting to wonder if the low pay I’ll earn for the two weeks of filing is worth it, considering how ridiculously high gasoline prices are.
Met the boss, a woman named Karol (names changed to protect myself, as none of these people are innocent!). Met the other A/P person, a young woman named Andrea. And there was one other poor unfortunate, a financial temporary employee named Joanne.
Quickly discovered that Supervisor Karol has absolutely zero patience with Joanne. Despite the fact that Joanne is old enough to be Karol’s mother, Karol talks to her as if she is a child. No, I take that back; I wouldn’t speak to a child this way! Very scathing, very condescending, and showing no patience at all. Am very glad that I’ll be half a building away, working in “my” solitary fileroom.
April 1-4, rest of week one
Spent at least half of each day OUT of the fileroom, accomplishing nothing at all. There are issues with the computer in my theoretical cubicle, and I have to be on hand as the computer tech works on it so I can repeatedly try to sign on and log in to various things.
Felt very frustrated, as I am getting next to nothing done. Kept wondering two things: one, why can’t the tech log in using his own identity to see if the programs are loaded correctly? Is it really necessary to keep me standing—yes, standing, as there are no extra chairs anywhere around here—for hours while he works? And two, why is it so freakin’ important for me to have full computer access? I’m here for two weeks, filing, and then I’m out of here, suckers.
Karol stinks. She actually stinks, as in a bad smell. I can’t figure out what it is. It isn’t funk, like someone who didn’t shower. It isn’t pee or feces, or anything like that. It isn’t that weird mildew odor I’ve smelled on some people when they have super-thick hair, and don’t dry it completely (and it stays vaguely damp and gross all day and evening). I have no idea what is causing her odor. I found out she’s a dog person, and wonder if it has something to do with that. But you know, I’ve been around plenty of crazy dog & cat people, and have never smelled anything like this before.
At first I thought it was just my imagination, because surely no one could smell that bad and not know it. But the other temp made it clear in our private conversations that yes, Karol does reek. I nearly gagged one day when she stood too close to me for several minutes in conversation.
April 7-10, week two
The denigrating behavior continues towards Temp Joanne. Karol’s mouth is really something. She’s one of those people who just doesn’t know how to talk to people, you know? I don’t see how Joanne takes it. I would’ve told her off ages ago if she’d been talking to me like that. I know that we all have to suck it up sometimes on the job, and take crap we’d rather not, but Karol is really beyond the pale.
Oddly enough, except for one comment last week, I don’t get any lip or attitude from Karol. I’d asked her if she could help me with a question I had. She snarkily said, “No,” very flatly. I just shrugged, and said I could just go back and do my work in the fileroom, then, instead of this special thing she’d asked me to do. I think I shocked her, just calmly stating what I was going to do. She kinda sniffed, and mumbled something about me having a lot of lip, especially for a temp. But you know what? I haven’t had a real problem with her since. Still, I’m sincerely looking forward to the end of this assignment.
I found out that Karol just got promoted to the supervisor position about a month or two ago. I tried to take that into account, that maybe she’s nervous and uncertain about her new job, but that still doesn’t excuse the way she talks to people.
April 11, Friday of week two
Karol ambushed me at the coffee machine at approximately 8:03am, while I was fixing my first cup. She came right out and told me that temp Joanne wasn’t working out, and that she was going to let Joanne go. Then she asked me if I’d be interested in staying on to take Jo’s place, and learning accounts payable.
I was completely taken aback for so many reasons. First of all, I hadn’t had a single sip of black nectar, and I don’t function well without a tiny bit of caffeine. Second, the few pistons that were firing in my brain were appalled that she was being un professional enough to tell me—a temp—that she was dismissing an employee, to see if I’d be interested in her position. Third, I absolutely, positively, did not want to work for this woman, and my poor brain was at a loss for a way to refuse. I finally came up with, “Um, I have to talk to my agency,” and escaped as fast as I could to my hidey hole (the fileroom).
Well, she didn’t wait to get further word from me. She just went right ahead and told the head of HR that she wanted to keep me on, and asked HR to talk to my agency. When she told me that, I was like WTF?!?!?!?
So I hurriedly went to talk to my agent on a break to give her a heads up about the situation. That I did NOT want to work closely with Karol, not the way I’d have to as an A/P person. I had been fine working in the fileroom, but would be driven mad if I had to have constant contact, being in the next cubicle over. My agent assured me that she would take care of the situation, and I didn’t have to worry my pretty little head about it.
Of course, I couldn’t leave it at that. I decided to nip everything in the bud as soon as I got back to the office. I calmly and quietly told Karol that I didn’t feel comfortable taking an A/P job since I had practically no experience in that area. The accounts payable that I’d done on a previous job was such a different process that it really didn’t count at all. Karol accepted it, saying that it wasn’t going to hurt her feelings if I didn’t want to do A/P.
But then, just to add another twist to the story, Karol offered me a third week of fileroom work. Even though I’d finished up my two weeks and assigned tasks, she had more she wanted done. I felt weird about it, but Mama needs a new pair of shoes (so to speak) so I accepted the assignment.
The rest of the day was surreal. I interacted with Temp Joanne, with whom I’d developed a great rapport over two weeks, knowing all along that she was going to let go. The part of me that is subconsciously involved in the Black Conspiracy urged me to tell her, or at least hint, that her job was ending. The part of me that insists on keeping to certain codes of professional behavior even when others around me are not, urged me to keep my mouth shut and stay out of the whole situation.
The universe decided to take pity on me, and gave me an out. I overheard conversations of Karol’s where she was speaking to someone, in despair about the resumes she’d looked over. Apparently, even though they had been using temps in the A/P position, they were advertising inside the company for someone to take on the job as regular/full time, and she hadn’t really cared much for the applicants she’d been presented with so far.
Then Joanne came to the fileroom to talk to me; she needed to vent, bigtime. She told me about the latest fracas, and how she was having a hard time Remaining Christian and keeping quiet and meek, when Karol spoke so badly to her. She then confided that she’d called her agency that afternoon, asking that they start looking for another assignment because she wasn’t going to be able to take Karol much longer.
And that was when it all came together: a way to give a bit of warning to a fellow temp, without (fully) compromising myself. I casually said that it was probably good timing on her part, as I’d overheard how “They” were about to hire someone permanently for the position. I felt so much better. I’d managed at least a little warning, without telling her she wouldn’t be there much longer. TGIF.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
In Limbo
I haven't been writing much because of two things: one, I've been really tired from work and the last thing I want to do when I get home is to try to write coherently; two, because everything in my life feels like it's in limbo.
I'm working (and boy howdy, are there tales to tell there), and have been at the same place for a month now. Well, technically, it'll be a month tomorrow. It's late and I'm tired, so I'll dish about my job later. But it's still a formless temp job, no matter that I've been there a month. I could get a phone call in the morning from my agency telling me the assignment has been ended. Limbo.
My body is still working on getting back to "normal". My miscarriage was on Jan 12th, and I have only bled once since then. Nothing is predictable or reliable; I have no real idea what my body is doing/might do. I think I'm about to ovulate, actually. It's really late (today is cd 39), but my ovaries are killing me tonight. It actually feels like clomid-type pain, for those of you who know/remember that particular hell. Will I ovulate? Will I have to take provera for the never-ending cycle? Will I decide to and/or manage to have a nodding acquaintance with semen before summer comes? I don't know. Limbo.
To me, though, the worst is something that I really don't know how to describe. Self perception, perhaps? I was a woman going through all the nine hells of infertility. Then I got pregnant, and fell completely in love with a ball of cells that grew enough to have little arms and legs. In my mind, I took off the platform boots of Infertile Woman, and put on the cardigan of Someone's Mom. I had a teeny tiny baby, and I was the mom. My heart was completely won over the first time I saw a blob with a flickering heartbeat; in that moment, I became a mom.
Except that.... I'm not anyone's mother. The little person to whom I talked and sang, doesn't physically exist anymore. I never touched or held the person for whom I ate boatloads of whole grains and vegetables. My primary self-identifier became a lie, and I have not yet managed to figure out who I'm supposed to be now.
I'm working (and boy howdy, are there tales to tell there), and have been at the same place for a month now. Well, technically, it'll be a month tomorrow. It's late and I'm tired, so I'll dish about my job later. But it's still a formless temp job, no matter that I've been there a month. I could get a phone call in the morning from my agency telling me the assignment has been ended. Limbo.
My body is still working on getting back to "normal". My miscarriage was on Jan 12th, and I have only bled once since then. Nothing is predictable or reliable; I have no real idea what my body is doing/might do. I think I'm about to ovulate, actually. It's really late (today is cd 39), but my ovaries are killing me tonight. It actually feels like clomid-type pain, for those of you who know/remember that particular hell. Will I ovulate? Will I have to take provera for the never-ending cycle? Will I decide to and/or manage to have a nodding acquaintance with semen before summer comes? I don't know. Limbo.
To me, though, the worst is something that I really don't know how to describe. Self perception, perhaps? I was a woman going through all the nine hells of infertility. Then I got pregnant, and fell completely in love with a ball of cells that grew enough to have little arms and legs. In my mind, I took off the platform boots of Infertile Woman, and put on the cardigan of Someone's Mom. I had a teeny tiny baby, and I was the mom. My heart was completely won over the first time I saw a blob with a flickering heartbeat; in that moment, I became a mom.
Except that.... I'm not anyone's mother. The little person to whom I talked and sang, doesn't physically exist anymore. I never touched or held the person for whom I ate boatloads of whole grains and vegetables. My primary self-identifier became a lie, and I have not yet managed to figure out who I'm supposed to be now.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Apache vs. Voodoo People
This is for the three whole people reading who actually know the song "Voodoo People" by the Prodigy. I laughed so hard I thought I might choke on my own spit.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Just call me Dilbertina
The last couple of weeks have been both boring and eventful at the same time. I’m still temping at the same company, even though the assignment was technically supposed to end last Friday. I am, in fact, making my virgin foray on the internet for “play” right now, testing the boundaries to see what I can get away with. ((ETA: Well, apparently I CANNOT go to my blog from work, so this will have to be posted tonight. Crap. Fraggin’ strict internet policies!))
It’s going to sound absolutely insane, but I discovered a wondrous sense of peace and solitude working in the file room. No crazy phones to answer; not having to greet every person who walks in the door; being sorta locked away and pretty much unsupervised since the person who is my actual supervisor is half the building away; practically no human interaction at all except for the occasional file request. The only drawback is that my computer—THIS computer—is in “my” cubicle block that’s half the building away from the file room. The only reason I’m sitting here now is because I’ve worked so swiftly that I’ve run out of work to do until more supplies are delivered today. Go me!
I feel very Dilbert-esque here, in my first real experience in the stereotypical Big Business Office, filled with cubicles everywhere. I worked for big companies before, even some very swank ones, but this is the first time it’s been the type of thing you see on television, where every floor is just a maze of cubicles. It’s interesting, I’ll give you that.
Here are the top 5 things I’ve learned (or had reinforced) since working here:
1. If you look like you belong somewhere, and walk with purpose, no one will challenge your right to be wherever you are. It’s especially helpful if you carry some folders or a handful of papers around with you.
2. People in Big Offices are apparently allergic to making coffee. Or perhaps they have a phobia to the sound of the water rushing through the coffeepot, as it reawakens memories of their grandfather’s unfortunate and freakish demise in the Folger’s Laboratory in the ‘60s when he worked on those marvelous freeze-dried crystals. I don’t know. All I know is that I use two different break rooms to fulfill my coffee needs: one is close to my file room, the other by my rarely-used cubicle. At least 75% of the time, I’m putting on a pot of coffee whenever I make a pit-stop. I drink one cup of regular first thing in the morning, then switch to decaf for the remainder of the day (I maybe have 2-4 more cups of decaf throughout the day, interspersed with straight water). I make 3-5 pots of coffee everyday. What. The. Hell.
It was one thing at my old job when I was just making coffee for 2-3 people; I knew that I was the one closest to the pot and would most likely end up making all the coffee. But here, there are dozens of people on this floor, and it doesn’t make sense that hardly anyone can be bothered to make a friggin’ pot of coffee. I’ve actually seen the pot placed back on the heater with about 4 Tablespoons of coffee left in it. Pathetic.
3. People who work in cubicles forget basic scientific properties of the physical world. They apparently believe that 5.5 feet hollow chipboard cubicle walls, covered with a colored open-weave burlap-like material that makes me want to cross-stitch, are soundproof. That no one can hear their conversations, whether person-to-person or on the telephone, as long as they’re in a cubicle. An open-air cubicle. Even when they don’t bother to lower their voices, those cube walls are believed to be magical, like Adora’s sword that transforms her into She-Ra. Yeah, I know that came out of nowhere, but I spent the weekend sick and playing on the internet for entertainment; I watched a lot of 70s & 80s cartoons online. Sue me.
4. Chivalry and good manners are not completely dead, at least not at this company. I have never had so many men practically running to open & hold doors for me in my life; waiting for me to enter and exit elevators before they do. Even women will go out of their way to hold doors and elevators for others. It’s a nice thing to see basic human consideration being practiced. And isn’t it a sad commentary on today, that basic etiquette arouses such excitement in me?
5. I am working too quickly and efficiently, and must learn to slack off more. Everyone seems completely shocked that I have accomplished as much organization in the file room as I have, and apparently they all truly thought it would take much longer than it is. I… must… slow… down, and guarantee another nice full paycheck for this week. I am quite literally working myself out of a job with my hearty work habits, and that is a weird position to be in. The boss thinks this work will last out the week, and maybe another week. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday if I don’t affect a go-slow.
It’s going to sound absolutely insane, but I discovered a wondrous sense of peace and solitude working in the file room. No crazy phones to answer; not having to greet every person who walks in the door; being sorta locked away and pretty much unsupervised since the person who is my actual supervisor is half the building away; practically no human interaction at all except for the occasional file request. The only drawback is that my computer—THIS computer—is in “my” cubicle block that’s half the building away from the file room. The only reason I’m sitting here now is because I’ve worked so swiftly that I’ve run out of work to do until more supplies are delivered today. Go me!
I feel very Dilbert-esque here, in my first real experience in the stereotypical Big Business Office, filled with cubicles everywhere. I worked for big companies before, even some very swank ones, but this is the first time it’s been the type of thing you see on television, where every floor is just a maze of cubicles. It’s interesting, I’ll give you that.
Here are the top 5 things I’ve learned (or had reinforced) since working here:
1. If you look like you belong somewhere, and walk with purpose, no one will challenge your right to be wherever you are. It’s especially helpful if you carry some folders or a handful of papers around with you.
2. People in Big Offices are apparently allergic to making coffee. Or perhaps they have a phobia to the sound of the water rushing through the coffeepot, as it reawakens memories of their grandfather’s unfortunate and freakish demise in the Folger’s Laboratory in the ‘60s when he worked on those marvelous freeze-dried crystals. I don’t know. All I know is that I use two different break rooms to fulfill my coffee needs: one is close to my file room, the other by my rarely-used cubicle. At least 75% of the time, I’m putting on a pot of coffee whenever I make a pit-stop. I drink one cup of regular first thing in the morning, then switch to decaf for the remainder of the day (I maybe have 2-4 more cups of decaf throughout the day, interspersed with straight water). I make 3-5 pots of coffee everyday. What. The. Hell.
It was one thing at my old job when I was just making coffee for 2-3 people; I knew that I was the one closest to the pot and would most likely end up making all the coffee. But here, there are dozens of people on this floor, and it doesn’t make sense that hardly anyone can be bothered to make a friggin’ pot of coffee. I’ve actually seen the pot placed back on the heater with about 4 Tablespoons of coffee left in it. Pathetic.
3. People who work in cubicles forget basic scientific properties of the physical world. They apparently believe that 5.5 feet hollow chipboard cubicle walls, covered with a colored open-weave burlap-like material that makes me want to cross-stitch, are soundproof. That no one can hear their conversations, whether person-to-person or on the telephone, as long as they’re in a cubicle. An open-air cubicle. Even when they don’t bother to lower their voices, those cube walls are believed to be magical, like Adora’s sword that transforms her into She-Ra. Yeah, I know that came out of nowhere, but I spent the weekend sick and playing on the internet for entertainment; I watched a lot of 70s & 80s cartoons online. Sue me.
4. Chivalry and good manners are not completely dead, at least not at this company. I have never had so many men practically running to open & hold doors for me in my life; waiting for me to enter and exit elevators before they do. Even women will go out of their way to hold doors and elevators for others. It’s a nice thing to see basic human consideration being practiced. And isn’t it a sad commentary on today, that basic etiquette arouses such excitement in me?
5. I am working too quickly and efficiently, and must learn to slack off more. Everyone seems completely shocked that I have accomplished as much organization in the file room as I have, and apparently they all truly thought it would take much longer than it is. I… must… slow… down, and guarantee another nice full paycheck for this week. I am quite literally working myself out of a job with my hearty work habits, and that is a weird position to be in. The boss thinks this work will last out the week, and maybe another week. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday if I don’t affect a go-slow.
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