You know when you get the “itis”…
Relevant examples might be senior-itis or summer-break–itis or quit-your-job-itis. We’ve all had that feeling: when it’s come down to that final final of that educational career of yours where you just don’t want to study anymore, don’t want even look at a book anymore, can’t muster the motivation to get to campus to even take the damn exam. You know what I mean when you’ve put up with the year’s transitions through seasons and you’re just waiting around for the liberty-filled days of fun in the sun because you’ve had it up to here with everything else. I definitely can’t be alone when the inevitable feeling of intense angst hits from those last days at that undesirable job you’re stuck at for another two stinking weeks. I’ve got a hardcore case of the latter lingering in my energy lately. Since last Friday, to be precise.
When I do something wrong, half-assed, or just not at all, my mindset has gone from sorely apologetic to “what’re they gonna do, FIRE ME?!” sass. It’s sinister, it’s juvenile. But damn if it isn’t empowering! It’s refreshing! I’ve never been fired from a position and I’m aiming to keep it that way. So maybe that puts me in a much different position than someone leaving a company on bad terms. Maybe I’d be better behaved and less apt to roll my eyes at anyone who decides to belittle me for any given reason because I’m merely the receptionist.
This work isn’t for me. And I wouldn’t have been able to realize that without the exposure of this position. They say, “don’t knock it till you try it!” Well I tried it, and I’m knockin’ it. What a success! This job has taught me to appreciate the small victories along the way. It’s allowed me to harness my personality and my morals. For example, one day when the office creeper figured it was okay to look through my iPhone while I was away from my desk, then go on to ask for all my GOOD GOOD pics, I very calmly, very sternly told him, “I’m not that kind of girl [creep], you ought to go request those from your wife.” But what the shit was that?!
While in this position, I’ve also had to be incredibly patient, which is seriously not my strong suit. I’ve worked with kids for years, but the people in this office are far worse than anyone I’ve ever encountered. Hear me out… I normally take care of ordering uniforms for employees, which involves dealing with location managers, portfolio managers, branch managers, and all they mommas. The information required for all orders is pretty straight forward and has never changed: Name of employee, shirt/pant size, logo for location, location number, and address. Nothing too demanding here. HOWEVER, these idiots I’m working with think otherwise. A single email will extrapolate into twenty and still the order would not have been completed. Days will go by and the employee will wear rando shirts inundated with other people’s sweat. It’s cray.
Naturally, my position involves answering the phone all day. Transferring the calls to the right person/dept., taking and delivering messages, and overall putting up with callers’ gargantuan lack of consideration. Note to reader: when you call an establishment, please be kind. Even if you have some sort of beef with the place you’re calling, odds are the person answering the phone isn’t the person you should attack. Be chill, bruh! Within my first week on the job, I lost count of how many times I was told to “eat shit” or any other variety of the insult. In response, I’ve always delivered my best crock of shit in my oh, so sweet, customer service rep voice. BYE FELICIA! Now where’s my Oscar?
It hasn’t been all bad, though. I’m glad to have met some really amazing people. Sad to be away from them and even sadder that they’ll continue to work in such an abusive environment. Get this, the rule of thumb for HR reps is that there should be one rep for every 100 employees. Much how the best ratio of schooling environments is one teacher for every dozen students. BUT, for this company, in this region, there’re only two HR reps for over 1,300 employees and only one Claims Filer. How is that at all fair?! These poor women are being stretched beyond reproach, meanwhile, management will go off on their two-hour lunches, play Baccarat in the lounging area, and discuss their lavish array of golf clubs, on the daily. And yet these women are expected to come in earlier and leave later than everyone else and only have thirty minutes for lunch that is constantly interrupted by questions from the higher-ups.
The foundation is severely broken. Way I see it: Management is the Queen Ant and everyone else is considered a member of the Baby Ants. There’re so many more Baby Ants, but they don’t have a clue what to do without the direction of the Queen Ant. Conversely, Queen Ant is too phat to get from point A to point B, so it really needs it’s Baby Ants to help carry the weight. They need each other to succeed and make it through the winter.
But screw it, I’m only here for another week, and on that day I’ll do my “Business Time” boogie and maybe even flip the bird to the Miranda Presley-esque bitch who’s taken to ruining each weekday for me. Because I don’t give a fuhhhhh
“Freedom, Freedom, I can’t lose, Freedom cut me loose”