Well I dropped off the face for a bit, sorry about that. Ironically my last Monday post has just sat there mirroring the way I've felt about this week in general. Like every day's been a freakin' Monday.
I have a story about my office to share that will hopefully give a glimpse as to WHY this week has felt like that.
Even though I work for a very large company, I don't work at our State office, or our Home office, or at any of our call centers, so I work in a very small office. With the exception of some of our newer agents that are in and out as they need to be, 3 whole people, including myself, work in this office. My desk has always (unfortunately) been at the very front. I sit in the lobby (if you could even say that we have a lobby) and act not only as a recruiter, but also as a gatekeeper. This works well for when the candidates I've recruited come to interview with the boss man, but otherwise? It's totally and completely annoying.
Not only is my *special spot* in the path of every Tom, Dick and Harry cruising through (and for some odd reason feeling obligated to carry on small and unnecessary chit chat with me), it also makes me head package delivery signer, get-rid-of-all-the-many-solicitors gal, and "can you tell me where this office is located in your building? I'm totally lost" helper person to strangers.
And so not only do I endure all that garbage on a regular basis but what's even more horrifying is the fact that I sit along the wall that shares the men's restroom.
Yeah, you read that right.
Take a second to take that in.
Blarfie McBlarf.
More specifically, I sit next to the urinals.
I can hear EVERY HORRIBLE THING that goes on in that men's restroom and have for the past 4 years of my life. Day in, day out.
And let me just say, men are gross.
I already knew that, but my *special spot* has only served to continually reaffirm this mind-numbing phenomena. Seriously now- guys throw up more than girls do, they of course rip awful ones and drop watermelon sized kids off "at the pool"... they sing and whistle to themselves while they do their "dirty work", they gasp and moan (gah and more gah) and they TALK ON THEIR PHONES while they do all of this. I REALLY canNOT believe how many men talk on the phone while they are "relieving" themselves.
It seriously disturbs me.
All of that being said, I've naturally been pretty vocal about my dislike for my spot (you're shocked I'm sure), but due to our very different job descriptions, it was made clear to me that I'm the best choice to sit there and I need to stay put.
That is until this past Monday when the building maintenance guy started work on gutting the very 80's and outdated men's bathroom on the other side of my wall.
We knew this was coming as he has had a crew helping him work on the 2nd floor bathrooms for the last 2 months. They completely gutted the things, and I mean COMPLETELY. Took the ugly pink 80s tile and etched with graffiti stalls out and turned them into beautiful neutral brown tile and granite spots for gods and goddesses to rest their weary bones. It's fabulous what they've done, but it was a very long and drawn out process. Now that they've moved up to our floor, it's OUR turn to go through 2 months of renovation hell, err, I mean fun.
So Monday morning the jackhammers started in on my wall and my skull. My stuff started instantly dancing across my desk as I heard the urinals being completely annihilated. This was exciting to me in a way as I wouldn't have to hear men pissing and ripping ones while they stand there peeing on my wall any longer, but the overwhelming noise to replace the offending sounds was going to be unbearable. How am I going to call anyone? I can't talk to anybody on the phone with this going on. I couldn't even read my emails. I tried, I really, really tried. But when I caught myself about to hit send on an email full of about 52 typos, I knew I had to go talk to boss man about moving me. (One sure sign that Steph is messed up and her brain feels like jello inside her skull is if she's sending out emails full of typos LOL.)
Boss man and I had a small discussion with building maintenance man and 7 minutes later, 2 things were officially decided.
#1 I would be relocating my desk to one of the inner offices rarely used (HOORAY!!!) and
#2 they would be installing an extra piece of drywall plus more than normal insulation along my desk wall.
(The building maintenance guy was absolutely MORTIFIED and turned about 15 different shades of purple and red when I was describing to him what I've been subjected to for well over 992 days of my working life at my desk. Watching him squirm and wiggle certainly gave me a chuckle- a chuckle I very well earned DAMMIT!)
Anyhoo, I am now a new woman.
I have an office with a door that I can freely close whenever I so choose.
I do not have to sign for packages unless I volunteer to do so.
I do not have to continually adjust the thermostat for the lobby.
I do not have to entertain people against my will.
I do not have to give directions for all that are lost.
I can just freakin' recruit and work on contract stuff like I'm supposed to.
Score one for Steph.
Alright- now that my silly story is out of the way, on to the resume of the day!
I'm picking on a ridiculous one that caught my attention as I settled into my new digs.
"Robert" sent me a very short, entry level resume.
His email that went along with it alerted me to the fact that I was in for a winner of a resume. First the email copy: "i am hily interested.please get bakc to me as soon as possible.my resume is atached."
Ummm yeah, this one'll be good. I can just feel it in my bones, can't you?
It took me all of three seconds to find the funniest portion in the sea of mistakes poor Robert emailed me and I'm sure the rest of the Universe.
He worked at an undisclosed location (I'm choosing not to name it as it's too specific) involving a place of "fun" and "recreation"- we'll just leave it at that. Here's the line that made me giggle before I shredded the sorry ass piece of paper I was staring at:
"wait for any costumer to make a purchase and provide them wth correct change andoffer them an ice packed if they appear ingured."
WTF?
I think he's trying to indicate that he was supposed to give customers correct change after they bought something at some kind of a stand and then be observant enough to notice if they had hurt themselves and offer them an ice pack if they were too cool to suck it up and admit to him that they had sustained an injury.
Did I get that right?
After successfully translating jibberish and living through Potty Gate, I feel like I deserve some of these:
Wouldn't you agree?
Agreed
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