So I have a job. That’s good. Pays the bills; overall the people I work with are great; it’s not too far from my house; benefits available – all good things. The thing is, I don’t exactly love my job. In fact, some days I loathe it and here are some reasons why:
- When people ask me what I do, I say I’m in admin/accounting. While my job consists of aspects of these things, the truth is (brace yourselves) I’m just a receptionist. I answer phones and have to be perky for a living. It is not awesome. That being said, I would like to apologize to my friends and family when I don’t answer the phone or am not timely in returning calls. After nine hours, I kinda hate the phone. No. Not kinda. I do. I really really do.
- The highlight of my day is usually when I switch from saying, “Good morning, thank you for calling…” to “Good afternoon.” Sweet…only 5 more hours to go.
- I have a space heater under my desk [WARNING: Fire Code Violation!]. I use it year-round. There’s really nothing quite like explaining to the UPS guy why I’m wearing a sweater when it is 95 degrees outside.
- I’ve recently come to the conclusion that the space surrounding my desk should be added as one of our conference room resources. Throughout the day, impromptu meetings break out in my cave, as I like to refer to it. They are loud and disruptive to my very important work (read: I can’t hear and/or am distracted while answering the phone or reading Perez Hilton). Just once I’d love to say in my best flight attendant voice, “Excuse me, did you book The Cave for this time? No? I’m going to have to ask you to move around the corner. OK, bye bye then.” *cheesy grin*
- Since I am in a public area of the office, people feel it is OK to touch and take things on my desk. I know you see me as part of the furniture, but this is still my desk and my stuff. Please ask first and stop invading my personal bubble. Please. Or I will come over to your cube and we are going to have a little “eye for an eye” situation going on. And I am not gentle.
- We have a sign-in sheet and require to have the time in and time out of every visitor. So after having people asking me what time it is 12 times a day and saying things like, “You should really have a clock up here,” I got a clock. The clock is directly to the left of the sign in sheet. Yet it never fails, someone always asks me what time it is. I point to the clock next to their hand because it is the only time I can be a jerk and get away with it. I think to myself, “Victory is mine!” (The voice inside my head sounds like Stewie Griffin.) My life makes me sad.
- There is a definitive “creepy guy” in my office. He will stand at my desk and stare at me while I work. It is the most uncomfortable thing I have ever experienced (and that includes the time I thought it would be cool to instigate streaking, and proceeded to trip over my own two feet, scraping up my naked body on the asphalt. Ouch.) Even after the first 30 seconds when I ask, “Can I help you with anything?” he says, “No” and shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be lurking around my desk. *shudder* (For an idea as to what he looks like, please click here; and believe me when I say I wish I was exaggerating. I’m not.)
- I am the voice of our company. This statement is two-fold: 1) I don’t know if I mentioned it already, but I answer the phone, so mine is the first voice people hear. 2) Almost all main recorded messages are my voice. You call the main voicemail, it’s me. You call our help line, guess what? Me again! Is there such a thing as voicemail royalties? Can I get a percentage every time someone leaves a message? I have some investigating to do…