Casual Friday

On my first day at my new job, I was shown around by a 23 year-old secretary who had been here for 5 years. I'm guessing she's never worked anywhere else. As part of her "orientation" she informed me that the office dress code was business casual. Then she informed me that we also observed casual Friday. Hmm.

So what passes for casual Friday wear in an already casual office? I'm glad you asked:

1. Jeans and a NASCAR t-shirt
2. Clean and pressed overalls
3. Grass-stained and wrinkled overalls
4. Juicy sweatsuit knock-offs
5. Parachute paints
6. Trucker hats and baseball caps
7. Flip flops
8. Leggings and a long t-shirt

And that's just today.

Things I Did Instead of Work Today

1. Checked my Powerball numbers (won $7, not enough to retire)

2. Scoured epicurious.com for salmon recipe

3. Made weekly phone call to Verizon to berate them about their inability to provide me with DSL service in downtown Washington, D.C. (DSL still unavailable on my line . . . shocking)

4. Used opportunity of tree-induced allergy attack to blow nose 50 times, setting up the "sick" day three-day weekend

5. Puzzled over what tourists in Portuguese-speaking countries may question swallowing whole

Tough day . . . good thing it's a three-day weekend.

I Have Become a Demon

de·mon
Variant(s): or dae·mon /'dE-m&n/
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English demon, from Late Latin & Latin; Late Latin daemon evil spirit, from Latin, divinity, spirit, from Greek daimOn, probably from daiesthai to distribute
1 a : an evil spirit b : a source or agent of evil, harm, distress, or ruin
2 usually daemon : an attendant power or spirit : genius
3 usually daemon : a supernatural being of Greek mythology intermediate between gods and men
4 : one that has exceptional enthusiasm, drive, or effectiveness [a demon for work]

The Phone Rang

One typical workday during my job search (I was watching MTV after just waking from my afternoon nap), I got a call from the temp agency. The assistant to the director of a state agency was leaving and they needed to find a replacement right away and are you interested and when can you start? Yes and Monday. They sent me in for an interview with the director, and come Monday I was being uniformed with my very own state ID badge.

I was pretty thankful. Very thankful, really. I was only going to be doing administrative stuff, sure, but I'd be working directly with the director and would get to learn all kinds of neat stuff. I would get an email address (you can never have too many), a cool office, fun office supplies (I have my own label maker!), unlimited coffee, and a paycheck. (Don't get too excited, now. My starting salary was $11.50 an hour.)

Most of all, I was really excited to have co-workers. I was excited to have birthday cake, the occasional happy hour, a candy dish at the reception desk, football pools, retirement parties, team-building activities, and working lunches. How fun!

Now, I'm thinking that co-workers are like childbirth -- you don't remember the pain.

My First Real Interview

It seems I had spoken too soon about there being no job listings in the newspaper. One week I found that the local TV news station was looking for a website coordinator to turn their existing site into a comprehensive news and community relations portal. That'd be pretty cool. And the station has a building just blocks (to use a city term) from my house.

I sent my application online and got a phone call the next day requesting an interview. The following Monday I drove to their main office (about an hour away) where I was greeted by the receptionist with a clipboard and job application. I fake-cheerfully sat

In the Beginning

In the beginning I left the city and moved to a smaller town to be closer to my family. No matter that the small town had no real industry to speak of (other than a very large WalMart distribution center), no real culture (other than an annual chicken festival), no real nightlife (other than the bar "downtown"), no exotic restaurants (other than Chinese take-out)... I could go on and on. I mean, my town does have a lot of redeeming qualities, but this is a rant so back off.

Anyway, here I am back in the town where I went to high school about 15 years ago and I'm looking for a job. In the past decade and a half I've earned a BA and an MS, traveled the world, and made (and subsequently spent) a lot of money—working as teacher, a management and technology consultant, a partner in my own business, an art director, and a website developer. Surely I could depend on my education and experience help me secure a position here.

Nothing (and I mean nothing) is posted on the Internet anywhere. There isn't much (other than driving trucks, which actually, it turns out, is quite lucrative) in the newspaper. And I'm not hearing too much by keeping my ear to the pavement. So I did what anyone would do in the city while they're looking... I registered with a temp agency.

On my first day at the temp agency I did the temp agency things. I filled out the application, took a drug test (huh?), and took a typing test. Like a 2 year-old potential gymnast in communist China, I guess I impressed them with the basics enough that they wanted to test me further. They gave me the MS Word test. They gave me the Excel test. They gave me the PowerPoint test. They had me put a list of things in alphabetical order... Then they told me that they really didn't have any jobs for anyone with my skills.

What? It's a temp agency. And why even give the tests if passing them really just means that you fail?

I'm very impressive, however, they say. And they'll definitley call me if something comes up. I'm right on the top of the list for all of their executive secretary positions.

Well. Thank God for that. I'll sit by the phone.

Did you take my thong?

This is a really a story about MY idiocy.

So, I was volunteering this morning at a homeless shelter with people from work. I was put in charge of handing out bagels when this guy, who had been spooning out eggs, took over my station! In a shrill tone I asked him "Did you take my thong?" Naturally, I meant to say tongs....much to the amusement of the gaggle of men waiting in line for food.

Back in the Day

It's been awhile since I had a desk job. . . which means I'm the perfect person to host this, since I don't have any work colleagues whom I can offend at the moment. My friends will be contributing some of their horror stories as they happen, however. If you've got some good ones, feel free to e-mail me with them!

In the meantime I offer just this one I-Can't-Believe-I-Work-With-These-People story:

Once a women I worked with knocked on my door to announce that a bunch of people were ordering pizza and did I want in? I said yes, and could we order the Quattro Formagio pizza. She looked dismayed and said, sorry, they'd already decided to order the Four Cheese pizza.

I just nodded and said that would be fine. It's tough being smarter than everyone else, isn't it??