i haven't posted about work really. partly because everything i do is confidential. mostly because the only thing i do is click on a mouse all day and it's so mind numbing that i keep a quiet count of all the brain cells i lose every hour. so here are some observations on things related to work, unrelated to my actual job...
the worst thing i've had to get used to is the cost/utility functions i'm constantly doing in my own head because i'm paid by the hour. i won't take days off, i won't take long lunches, i hate to leave the office because i'm making so much darn money. for example: i'm working on a saturday and want to stop at banana republic and pick up a shirt i saw for $60. right away i add $45 to the cost of the shirt because that's what it costs me to leave the office for the hour. so is that shirt worth $105? no. vacations are the same way. they are too costly once you add in the amount of money i won't be making while i'm gone. basically, i'm a slave to the hourly wage. it's freaky. i don't know how to cut myself loose from it.
i sit in a corner of the office with several black women who all listen to Wendy Williams
and i'm so hooked. this lady his hilarious. we sit and listen to Shayna from brooklyn call into the radio show to talk about how her sugar daddy wants her to fuck him with a strap-on. there are always choruses of "oh, HELL no!" or "this trick's out of her mind!" or other phrases being hollered out from within the cubicles. even though i'm a little half-asian girl, for the hour, i can feel my inner urban diva.
i've also found some excellent fellow stalkers in the office. a girl who'd seen a guy on jdate
who she thought was cute, pulled up his profile (which contained only his college, his profession, his interests, and his screenname i.e. "KMan76'"). within minutes a co-worker was able to find out his full name, his law school, his place of employment and what kind of law he practiced. damn. he's good. we all collectively drafted a letter for this girl to send to him over the dating service but we never heard back. i think we're just starting to recover from the rejection.
and honestly, this job isn't a real job. it's a couple college fraternities and sororities who don business casual and show up at the office for a few hours to bide their time until the work-organized binge drinking fests. it can't get more unprofessional than this. for example: we just had a work sponsored (i.e. paid for) open bar and karaoke to bid adieu to a departing boss. this included boss lady getting so drunk that she was: 1.) literally falling down all over the place (whether walking down the stairs or standing on solid ground), 2.) shoving one guy on a table splashing several drinks upon a co-workers lap and 3.) throwing some wayward fists. one landing on the side of work boyfriend's head. one landing squarely in drunk departing boss' face (ouch!) who then proceeded to pour his beer on boss lady's head. boss lady gets upset that she's wet (conveniently forgetting poor guy with a lap full of vodka) and storms out. *boss lady exits stage left. end scene* i wish i were kidding about this. i really do. but i am not. tuesday is an organized outing for beer pong.
yes, BEER PONG. boss lady's name is on the list of people to play. *shaking head* no comment.
i am a document reviewer, which is exactly what it sounds like. firms all over the country pay pay tens of thousands of these underlings to do nothing but search for information in documents. documents from people's files, from their computers, everything down to their day planners...and so i'm telling you, take this advice and carry it with you always:
NEVER USE YOUR WORK E-MAIL ADDRESS FOR PERSONAL MESSAGES.
seriously. it's amazing. pathetic break-up e-mails, e-mails displaying adulterous relationships, porn, e-mails from suzy confessing she slept with her boyfriend's brother joey, stupid forwards, lots and lots of baby pictures.* so really, if you don't want 40 people openly mocking the fact that you got dumped by that guy you met at club med...don't e-mail the stories out on your work account. even though we're thoroughly entertained, we feel bad for you.
*disclaimer: none of these are actual findings, names, etc. this is the range of possible findings. just to be certain that i'm NOT writing about my actual job, bitches.