Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Can Dolly do my job?

She may have a nice smile but does she rock the gaudy rings like me?

If I create my clone, will she have better fashion sense than me? Dolly the Sheep did it, so why can't I? Sure, she didn't last very long but that was years ago and I'm sure technology has advanced, so a clone for a year may be possible now.

Unlike Dolly, however, who was content to roam the hills of Scotland (yes, Scotland again - I just love the place!), I would put my clone to good use, putting me in two places at once, doing double the work and easing the voice that seems to ring out in my head every day of the five-days of hell at work: I need it yesterday.

As some of you know, I work in a high-stress environment with people yelling for their crap to get done even though I have 17 other pieces of crap work to go through. Today was stellar. With my coworker, Red, going off to greener pastures (see how I tied the sheep metaphor in there? Gawd, I'm brilliant), I inherited one extra salesperson, doing admin work for now three, sometimes four sales nazis. And, everyone needs their stuff, their orders done... you guessed it, yesterday.

In an ideal world or the world that our company manual seems to represent, admin people have 24 hours to deal with an order. That's 24 hours from the time it lands on their desk. Idyllic, right? Not so. Every order that flies  across  my desk must be done immediately, orders shouted from across the office, nothing written down and I have to ask how high I must jump. I'm used to it. It was how I was raised, my work ethic, nose-to-the-grindstone ingrained in my DNA.  But it's the raised voices, the sighs and tones emanating from the corner cubicle.

Today it was a mutter: "Idiot" under his breath, low so he thought I couldn't hear it, uttered when I had done what he had requested but sent a file in a version that could not be opened by the intended recipient. It was easily remedied by sending a follow-up email with the correct version. One request, one question and no attitude and it would have been done immediately and without issue. Instead, my hackles were up. The email was still sent but I was seething.

I don't do well with attitude or muttered insults. Kiss your teeth at me and I'll put you through the flippin' window. Head first. I'm not a violent person by nature, but disrespect me and question my intelligence and hellfire will be forth coming.

Tomorrow is interview day. Finally. And to top it off, I'm nervous as hell as it's been a while since I was on the job trail and this close to a potentially good job with good people, good pay and a chance to contribute anything but a body in a chair. I just hope they don't kiss their teeth.

4 comments:

  1. I worry people would like my clone better than me.

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  2. YOU GO FOR THAT JOB! You could do what the French do to the dick brain who called you an idiot. Explain that you can only process his documents under written request, perfectly typed, clearly stated and with no spelling mistakes... Or pretend you don't understand his accent. I'M SORRY! DID YOU SAY IDIOT???
    Get out of that place - you're right!!

    BONNE ChANCE

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  3. Idiot, huh? Just say the word, and he'll need to eat through a tube...among other things!

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  4. What a douche. I hope you can get out of that place ASAP!

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