Unfit for Duty

It’s been quite a busy week for this new employee!

I have a few key points when looking for a job:

1. I do not want to work on my birthday.
2. I do not want to work with children.
3. I do not want to be in charge.

Now, please do not mistake the last item on this list for a reluctance to boss people around.  On the contrary, I LOVE telling people what to do.  It is, in fact, one of my favorite activities.  My issue with being in charge is that I hate being the last line of defense for any problem.

So while many strive and scheme to get to the top in their organization of choice, I prefer to carve out a comfortable little niche for myself somewhere in the middle where I can learn things, interact with people, and make a difference while having absolutely no reprocussion for any of my inevitable stupid mistakes.  I work to live, baby, I don’t live to work.

Imagine my shock when, after only 6 weeks of employment at my new job, both my supervisor and my one and only direct coworker just so happened to be out the same Monday and Friday, leaving little ol’ me as the only available representative of Human Resources and Payroll.  On a payday, no less!

Don’t get me wrong:  I am glad that they both took some time off.  They work hard, they treat me like their little weirdo princess, and before I got here, they were in a bad place.  My poor coworker hadn’t taken a long weekend in at least 6 months, and hadn’t taken a full week of vacation since she started here.  She is a sweet, intelligent angel and may she NEVER EVER LEAVE ME AGAIN.  Just kidding.  Not really.  Maybe.  I’m not even sure anymore.

They both kindly, sweetly asked if it was okay with me first.  One was picking up her daughter after her first year of college.  The other was going on a vacation with her husband for their wedding anniversary.  “One of us can cancel if you don’t want to be alone…no problem, seriously!”

“Of COURSE I don’t want either of you to cancel!  I can absolutely handle things!” I said in the calm, assured tone of someone who actually knew what they were doing.  See, I don’t think things through BEFORE.  Only after, when I realize that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

I waltzed in confidently at 6:45 am, ready to attack the day and prove my worth to my coworkers and everyone else within the company.  I can be better after 6 weeks than most people after 6 years!  I am AWESOME!

HA.

Anyway, here are a few of the many crises that I experienced during my stint as the lone ranger of HR:

• “I had a baby.  What paperwork do you need?  It’s gotta be done soon or else my medical insurance won’t cover the birth.”
• “I was injured at work.  What should I do?”
• “My paycheck was wrong.  Can you fix it?  I need the money right now.”
• “My badge is broken!  How do I get in and out of the building if I can’t swipe my badge?”
• “I was hired this morning!  My manager said you’d handle it.  What do you need me to do?”
• “One of my people resigned.  What do I do?  I need to fill the position ASAP.”
• “I need an application, but not the regular application.  Do you know what I mean and where they are?”
• “How many hours of holiday pay do our part-time employees get?  I don’t know and payroll needs to be run today.”
• “I’m a former employee and I never cashed my paycheck from 2011.  Can you issue me another one?”

The answer to all of these questions and more, as you might have guessed, is still some variation of “I have no idea, you’ll have to wait until the capable, experienced people get back on Tuesday.”

But I soldiered on.  I had no other choice.  My new job has been good to me.  I mean, REALLY good to me.  They’ve paid me for holidays when I’m not supposed to get holiday pay until my my probationary period is over.  They’re giving me paid time off for my pre-planned vacation days this summer even though I haven’t accrued any time yet.  They’ve been remarkably supportive and have taken me through slow, patient training.  They let me work flexible hours to accomodate my infuriatingly inconsistent bus schedule.  They laugh and swear and chat at work, and let me do the same.  Most importantly, they rescued me from that pompous blowhard at my last job.

Oh, did I mention that he got fired only a few weeks after I left?  Apparently all of my campaigning against his abuse of the staff launched a bit of an investigation.  Ooops!  So he thought I ran away with my tail between my legs;  little did he realize that I had left him a parting gift, and that it had all been a ruse.  A RUSE!  But I digress.

When it rains, it pours, and let me tell you:  while I was alone, it poured.  But no one died, no one cried, and I didn’t have to fight anyone to the death over any work disputes.  I do believe that means that all is well, and I now have solid proof that I made the right decision by shifting jobs.  Is my schedule a bit crazier?  Yes.  Do I loathe leaving the house before 6:00 am?  OH GOSH, YES.  But there is always coffee and a nap available after work if necessary. 

So for now, dear friends, all is right with the world, and I’ve almost totally forgotten about my stupid awful idiot driver’s testing experience.  Well, I had, until I just mentioned it…

Damn.

The Final Countdown

This is my last week at my job.  Tomorrow, in fact, will be the last day that I have to set foot into this miserable, stressful, soul-sucking vortex of stupidity.  Monday, I start at my new job.  It’s a place where people smile at you when you walk in the front door!  A place where they have a vending machine with Lean Cuisines in it!  A place that is equidistant from a Starbucks and an awesome Thai restaurant (less than 5 minutes either way, BAM)!  A place where people seemingly wear jeans whenever they want!

But I’m not going to look at the 8 months I’ve spent here as a waste.  My old supervisor from this job – the one who hired me, the one that I really liked, the one who retired and tragically left a void that was filled by a pompous oblivious ass – took me out to lunch today, and I realized a few things.

1. No time is wasted when you’ve met even one worthwhile person.  Here, I’ve met a group of wonderful men and women who I’ve laughed and joked with, and who I hope I will continue to meet for lunches and happy hours in the future.
2. No time is wasted when you’ve made a positive impact in another person’s life.  How many times a day does someone thank me for what I do here?  Some days, zero times.  Others, I have grateful coworkers, students, advisors, and faculty members singing my praises all throughout my workday.  Today, one woman tearfully thanked me because my assistance gave her the opportunity to walk across the stage at the spring commencement ceremony in front of her sons.  The miserable days would all be worth it to make one person’s life better;  I’ve managed to do that once just today.  That’s a pretty good rate of return in my book.
3. Every learning experience, be it simple and enjoyable or incredibly challenging, makes you a better, wiser, stronger person.  After this, I am totally all of those things.  Also, I have significantly lowered standards for a tolerable workplace, which will no doubt make my new job seem even better than it really is.
4. Going through something difficult helps you to recognize when you’re being taken advantage of, and it gives you the strength to stand up for yourself and others.  I got screwed here.  But I didn’t sit back and take it.  I looked at my options, I did my best to resolve things, and when it didn’t work, I peaced out.  And now I’m better for it.  Leaving also gave me a chance to warn Human Resources of how poorly some of my coworkers have been treated.  If something good comes out of that, then my leaving was pretty awesome.
5. Quitting a job without taking any of your accrued vacation time means you get a sweet payout when you quit.  Well, vacation time, I would have loved to use you to spend time on a beach or sleeping until noon, but now you get to help me buy a new car!

Hi, little friend! Come live with me and make all my months of suffering seem worthwhile!

Ugh, three positive blog posts in a row?!  GROSS, who am I?!  I promise, I’ll do my best to be cranky again soon.

Do-Overs

It’s finally happened.  I finally got to quit my job.

I got a call on Monday to come in for an interview.  Thursday, I went to (and apparently rocked) said interview.  Friday, they called to offer me the job.  I accepted.

I’m honestly a bit nervous.  I’m not a job hopper.  I was at Pitt for just shy of a decade.  I was hoping to find a job in Central PA and stick with it for the long run as boyfriend pursued his magical kung fu dreams.  But unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.  My job started out great:  good pay, nice coworkers, mind blowing benefits.  What could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.  And in only 8 short months, too!  It’s pretty impressive if you think about it.  When things started going downhill, I thought to myself, “I can stick this out.  Things will turn back up again!”  But they didn’t.  They got progressively worse with each passing week, and I didn’t feel like myself anymore.  Once that place started getting under my skin, I realized it was time to act.  I’m young, I’m capable, and I don’t have to take that crap from nobody!

I don’t like the person I became at my job.  So I’m gonna peace out and be me again.  Will it be me with slightly worse benefits and way less paid time off?  Sure.  But it’ll be me with my dignity intact.

I put in my two weeks’ notice on Friday.  Come April 19th, I will be a free woman!  Briefly!  I start at the new job on the 22nd, and I’m gonna start it on the most positive note I can muster.

So let’s try this again:

Hi.

My name is Nancy.

I just moved to Harrisburg, and I just got a new job.

It’s not world-famous writer or professional editor extraordinaire, but it could be fun.

I miss Pittsburgh every day, but I’m excited to start this new part of my life.

I bet it’s gonna be awesome.

Of Lunch Beers and Breakdowns

I almost quit my job on Friday.

I did!  It’s true.

It all started out simple enough back in August.  I took a job way below my intelligence and skill level because I needed the pay and benefits.  I learned everything quickly, I proved my worth to my coworkers, and I found myself breezing through without a care (or an intellectual stimulus) in the world.  Two months later, I was asked to take on an additional assignment (as well as additional pay) to assist a coworker who was covering for an open position, and was also preparing to go out on maternity leave.  Who doesn’t want more money and a little bit of a challenge?  Well, the little challenge became overwhelming as more and more duties were piled on (without corresponding piles of money).

It was then that the new boss started.  He seems great.  He’s got a sense of humor, he’s got experience in the industry, and he’s willing to learn about what we do and what we need to accomplish.  Better yet, he was very intrigued to learn that only I and one other coworker held a high-level degree.  Betterer yet, upon our initial meeting, he thought I was eight to 10 years younger than I actually am.

So with the promise of better times on the horizon, I prepared to come to work this past Monday and tackle a big project: assisting my previously mentioned coworker with the task of mailing diplomas out to 990 December graduates.  I readied myself as she asked me to start putting labels on the mailers.  I dutifully began peeling, sticking, and sorting.  I labeled mailers for four hours until the last label was attached and my poor sad hands had turned into misshapen claws.  I went to report to my coworker: partially to tell her I was done, partially to ask where the hell she had been that was so much more important than finishing her project.

“Okay, I just finished printing the diplomas,” she said,  “They’re ready to be put in the mailers.  I want them to go out tomorrow.  But I’m not feeling well, so I’m going home.  Be sure that gets done…they absolutely need to be out before the weekend.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  With that, she was gone.  I took a deep breath and retreated, enormous stack of diplomas in hand, to the fort I had constructed of boxes full of mailers.

That day, boyfriend took me out to lunch.  It was then that I made an important decision: if I were to make it through the day, I would require some assistance.  I would partake in a lunch beer.  It wasn’t a full lunch beer, to be fair.  We ordered a sampler of five tiny baby beers.  I myself enjoyed a Big Gruesome, a chocolate peanut butter stout from Spring House Brewing Company, and a Mad Elf, a lovely ale from Troegs Brewing Company that blends, cherries, honey, and chocolate.  I’m no beer expert, but I must say, I do love alcoholic beverages that taste like dessert.

When I returned, the diplomas stared up at me with malice.  I would not be defeated my something so silly, I thought.  Not while I was full of beer!  Two of my coworkers joined and we worked until the end of the day, finishing nearly half of the job with only a few issues cropping up.  This would be no problem!

The next morning, my coworker, the one whose job I had been helping with, called in sick.  My sanity shattered.  Helpful coworker patted me on the back and offered her help.  We soldiered on until only a few problem diplomas were left: five students, we determined, had given no mailing address.  One lonely diploma and folder remained, but did not match…and I realized that I had placed a diploma in the wrong mailer the day before.  Normally, in such a situation, I would just call the student and warn her of the issue.  But I knew that the coworker in charge would become more than a little enraged, which was confirmed by others in the office.  I admitted my mistake to the boss and vowed to rectify it.  One coworker, ever so concerned with providing the most accurate picture of every situation, made sure to tell everyone in the office (ESPECIALLY the new boss) that she had pointed the diploma in question out to me, but I still paired it with the wrong mailer.  True, yet so very, very annoying.

Always one for a hopeless adventure, I decided to venture to the college mailroom to see if the batch from yesterday had been mailed.  Helpful coworker tossed me into her car and drove me there, more than happy to get out of the office on a Friday morning.  We found the stack untouched and quickly uncovered the rogue diploma.  Relief washing over me, I conspired with helpful coworker:  while we were in the mailroom, why not help out our poor overworked mail room employee by putting postage on the 600 diplomas that awaited attention?  We tracked down a technician who, eager to escape any type of work, taught us how to use the postage machine.  There we stood for the better part of an hour, running mail, stacking it into bins, and laughing about how much better it was than sitting in our awful, tension-filled office.

After we finished, I matched the last two diplomas up with their rightful mailers and got them out of my sight as quickly as possible.  Honest coworker reminded me once again how funny it was that the one she mentioned was the one I had messed up.  SO FUNNY, HONEST COWORKER.  I sought a peaceful, quiet Friday afternoon; what I received was the slowest 3 hours of my life, full of angry parents, ungrateful students, and computer issues galore.  I found myself staring miserably at the Pitt water bottle situated at the edge of my desk, tears welling up in my eyes.  I’M SORRY, PITT!  I TOOK YOU FOR GRANTED AND I’M SORRY!

The whole ordeal reminded me of one of the 12 things I learned in undergrad as a history major:  the concept of the J-curve.  Sometimes, conditions become drastically worse in a sudden plummet.  People drudge through their days quietly at rock bottom without much of a peep.   But when things improve just a bit, that little upward swoop at the bottom of the J, people get a taste of what improvement can look like.  And they want more.  At these points in history, you have your uprisings, your revolutions, and apparently, your lunch beers.

So tomorrow, I will go to work.  I will complete the tasks assigned to me.  I will plaster on a smile and laugh at stories about everyone’s weekend.  Inside, however, I will be formulating an escape plan.  Will the changes be a result of the new boss and the shake-ups he’s hinted at during our first few staff meetings?  Or will they come from a new, unrelated opportunity that has yet to reveal itself?  I can’t be sure just yet.

But there is one thing that I am very, very sure of:

Those changes are coming.

And that I don’t like my job.

Oh, and that I miss Pittsburgh.

(Okay, there is more than one thing I’m very, very sure of.  Sorry.)

Steel Resolve

I’m not usually one for making New Year’s resolutions.  It’s pretty contrived, it often ends up being a huge waste of money and resources, and it’s a lot of pressure…I don’t handle pressure well.  I feel like society as a whole is telling me what to do, and nothing makes me less likely to accomplish something than to have a large group of people being judgmental and having high expectations of me.  I can (and have) failed things purely out of spite.

This year, however, is likely to be a big year for me.  It will be my first full year in my new home, and it will be the year that I get married.  Those two things alone are pretty huge, so I figured it would be a good idea to make an itemized list of things I would like to accomplish in 2013, lest my life spiral out of control and ruin everything it touches.

Also, coming up with a new idea for a blog post once a week is hard.  So here we go!

1.  Getting my driver’s license.  Okay, this is seriously getting sad.  I’ve had my permit since, what, May?  I’ve driven approximately 5 times.  I don’t like it.  I hate obeying the speed limit (I prefer to go far below or far above the legally accepted speed in any given situation).  I hate parking.  I hate paying for gas.  What I do like is being in the passenger’s seat, looking around excitedly and keeping the driver awake.  Essentially, my preferred role in a car is that of Golden Retriever.  Though, really, I guess the driving part isn’t what I hate.  It’s the fact that OTHER people are also driving.  If I were the only one of the road, I would totally be all about it.

2.  Making sure that Simon remains the happiest, most spoiled rotten cat alive.  This won’t be a tough one, but I need some ringers on here just in case things go a bit awry.  I’m so happy that we’ve added the little dude to our family, and it sure is nice to have someone so excited to see me when I get home from work and boyfriend is still out of the picture for at least a few more hours.  I have now trained him to sit prior to receiving any food (be it his twice daily scoop of cat food or a treat).  What I had not foreseen about this training is that he now follows me into the kitchen any time I want a snack and sits down directly in front of me and yells.  I guess I need to explain to him that he doesn’t get food EVERY time he sits.  NO, SIMON, THE KITCHEN IS FOR PEOPLE FOOD.  Damn, it’s cute, though

3.  Marriage stuff.  With our wedding approaching at breakneck speed, I think that me and good ol’ boyfriend need to do some serious focusing on what we expect out of marriage.  We will have been together a little over six years once we tie the knot, so we have a pretty good idea of what works for us.  Problem is, people keep on growing and evolving.  Well, it’s a problem if you don’t know how to adapt together.  Once you get a good hold on that, the growing and evolving is the fun part.  I’ve seen too many couples get carried away in the planning of a magical fairy tale wedding and totally lose sight of what happens after.  The wedding is one day;  the marriage is all the rest of them.

P.S.  I don’t want to be the couple that gets fat together after we get married; that is an unacceptable version of the “growing and evolving” notion.  Take note, boyfriend!

4.  All that boring, responsible stuff being said, WEDDING.  I have every intention of having the most kick assin’-est wedding ever this fall.  However, I have to finish planning it.  That sucks.  I tried to sign up for one of those wedding websites that emails you reminders of what you should be accomplishing each month leading up to the wedding.  This month, apparently I am supposed to be consulting with my wedding planner about the details of my stationary and meeting with a florist to determine what kind of arrangements I want for the big day.  Listen, The Internet, that is totally stupid and I’m not going to do it.  What that means is that I need to make my own checklist.  So I guess what I’m saying is that I have to put making a to-do list on my to-do list.

5.  Being a better long-distance friend.  I miss my Pittsburgh people.  I miss my former Pittsburgh people who have moved on to their own greener pastures.  I miss them a lot.  I do my best to keep up with them, but it can get really overwhelming being in a new place and trying to stay part of the old place, too.  I know that I’ve distanced myself a bit to help me to function more effectively in my new environment.  It’s quite challenging to make new friends and find good things about a new place when I’m so busy missing old friends and comparing everything to the mildly grubby loveliness that is my sweet, sweet Pittsburgh.  But I’ve been here a few months now.  Maybe it’s time to come out of the shell and try to love it here as much as I loved it there.  Okay, not as much.  But at least a little bit.  We’ll start with liking it as a friend, m’kay?

6.  The most common but most dreaded of all New Year’s resolutions:  physical fitness.  I think there are few lamer resolutions to make than “I’m gonna lose X number of pounds!”  Guess what!  You probably will!  And guess what else!  Your dumb ass is going to gain it all right back because if you need to wait for a special occasion to start it, you’re probably not going to be making the necessary lifestyle changes to make it stick!  Don’t get me wrong, it makes me incredibly happy when people make a serious push to eat right, exercise effectively, and improve their lifestyles.  But here are some things I hate:  diet fads!  exercise fads!  false promises!  unrealistic goals!  people taking advantage of those who don’t know any better!  The whole New Year’s weight loss culture just grosses me out.

On that note, I am going to make some goals for myself.  I am NOT going to hurry up and lose 10 pounds in the first few weeks of 2013.  I’m gonna stick with eating healthy, exercising, and making sure my clothes still fit.  And yes, I’m still gonna eat dessert sometimes because shut up.  I am not going to crash diet before my wedding.  That’s stupid.  That’s also one of the reasons I bought my wedding dress a week after we got engaged: it didn’t give me ANY time to try and cram into an unrealistic size.  Also, there was a sale, and that shit is expensive.  I’m going to be healthy and work on my own body image instead of everyone else’s image of my body.  I am going to train for my first degree black belt test under the contemporary wushu curriculum at the Center in December and rock it out.  I am also going to train for my second degree black belt test under the International Wushu Sanshou Dao Association curriculum in December because I am a monster and I like having other people recognize that.  And THAT, my friends, is how you do a New Year’s weight-related resolution.

7.  Getting my write on.  I must say, I’ve been pretty happy about keeping up with my once-a-week posting schedule since I’ve moved out to Hershey.  It keeps me writing, and it’s also a fun way to get a little creative outlet while interacting with some super fun people (that’s you guys!).  Let’s keep that going, shall we?  I would also like to keep up with my freelance editing projects (hopefully with greater speed and frequency in the coming year), and with my personal writing projects.  You’re not going to see any published novels coming from me any time soon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fill up my hard drive with weird stories that will never see the light of day!

8.  Oh, and hi, career, I should probably get me one of you.  Last, but certainly not least, I would like to regroup my efforts into finding a job that I enjoy.  Have I given up on finding a fabled “career?”  The magical job that people fresh out of college discuss in hushed tones where you wake up fresh and happy each morning, make copious amounts of money, and look forward to sticking around until retirement?  Yes, people.  I’ve given up on that.  However, I do think that it’s totally reasonable to look for a job that brings me some measure of happiness.  Nice coworkers, a good atmosphere, and work that isn’t completely and utterly mind numbing?  I think it’s time to look for that again.

I do think I owe it to myself to stay at my current job until the summer is over.  Did I mention that they only work four days a week during the summer?  Yeah, I’ve earned that, thanks.

Progression of a Workday

After getting a Bachelor’s degree, then a Master’s degree, then moving across the state and performing an exhaustive search for a job that might make me moderately happy, I still work a 9 to 5 office job at an academic institution.  I must remind you all that this is completely and totally against my will.

Throughout the years, I’ve come to expect a certain series of events, mostly mental, to occur over the course of a typical workday.  Clearly, this varies depending upon my physical condition, my mood, the amount of sleep I was treated to the previous night, and my general tolerance for bullshit at any given moment.

I do consider the time between when I wake up in the morning and when I arrive at work to be part of my work day.  This is because there is no way in hell that I would ever voluntarily haul myself out of my cozy, warm bed at such an appalling hour.  I don’t count travel time home toward my work day, mainly because if I did my work day would span 12 hours and that would make me jump off a bridge.

I invite you now to spend an abridged workday inside my head, privy to all the joys and sorrows therein.  For a more authentic Nancy experience, please feel free to pepper each and every sentence with as many F-bombs as you see fit.

5:30 am – Uggggggggh, why am I awake?!  Look at boyfriend and Simon all snuggled up!  They’re so cute!  I love them so much!  Maybe just a few more minutes in bed will be okay…  (At this point, I easily convince myself to go back to sleep, cutting my already tight schedule dangerously close to disaster.  On many a morning, this “five more minutes” becomes another hour and boyfriend is forced to drive my lazy carcass to work.)

5:45 am – Okay, I’m going to miss my bus if I don’t go now.  Look at those two assholes, all snuggled up like jerky idiots who get to sleep in.  I hate them.  I HATE THEM SO MUCH.

6:30 am – (Location:  Bus stop, approximately a 5 minute walk from my apartment.) Well, here’s bus 1 of 2.  And everyone is talking.  Who talks to strangers on a bus at 6:30 in the morning?!  Suburban people are so weird and obnoxious.  If someone tries to talk to me, I’m gonna punch ’em all up in their face.

7:00 am – (Location:  Capital Area Transit Transfer Station, Downtown Harrisburg) Okay, Harrisburg, please just leave me in peace while I wait for my connection to the office.  I don’t want to talk to anyone.  Ugh, especially creepy John.  PLEASE don’t let creepy John talk to me…

7:15 am – Aaaaaand creepy John is talking to me.  THERE IS MY BUS, PLEASE HURRY UP AND LET ME LEAP ONTO IT GLEEFULLY.

8:00 am – (Location:  Uptown Harrisburg, Office) Okay, here we go.  You can do this.  You’ve done it a million times before and you’ve survived.  GET PUMPED!  Also, immediately remove dress shoes under desk.

8:30 am – (Everyone is lovely and I am genuinely interested in each of them as an individual, but now is the time to show EXCESSIVE amounts of interest in personal lives to kill time.  We all know it happens.  No one ever mentions it, though.  It’s our very own not-so-secret secret.)  Coworker socialization time!  Important topics of discussion:  kids, last night’s dinner, the weather, traffic, upcoming holidays, recently passed holidays, weekend plans, the upcoming potluck (there is always a potluck), SIMON.  Oh man, I miss Simon…  I wish I was at home in my pajamas with the cat.  UGH, I HATE IT HERE.

9:00 am – Ew, I’m starting to wake up.  I’m conscious of what’s happening to me.  If one more person calls me with a stupid question, I’m going to smash the phone with a baseball bat.

9:30 am – Why isn’t there a Starbucks around here?!  What kind of godforsaken place doesn’t have a Starbucks?!  I AM SO TIRED AND ANGRY.

10:00 am – (Around this time each morning, coworkers start wandering out of their offices in search of conversation that can entertain while being tenuously tied to productivity.)  Mental break time.  At least I’m not alone in my misery.  Frequently used conversation starters:  “Can you BELIEVE those people in the other office?  What do the DO all day?”  “I just got the craziest call ever.  Let me recreate it for you in unnecessarily specific detail.”  “Look at what just came in the mail!  It’s totally ridiculous to the point that everyone needs to exit their offices immediately and come see it in person!” 

11:00 am – How can I be so very, very bored while I’m in the process of doing so many, many things?  I don’t understand.  Doesn’t this go against the very concept of boredom?  But it’s snack time, yay!  That will occupy my brain for all of 45 seconds!

12:00 pm – Everyone else is leaving for normal people lunch time.  If I’m the only one here, I’ll have to be extra vigilant.  HAHA, J/K, TO THE INTERNET!

1:00 pm – Lunch time!  FINALLY.  I love taking my lunch hour later in the day.  Then when I come back, there’s only a little bit of time left.  I can totally kill two and a half hours!

2:00 pm – There is no way I can kill two and a half more hours.

2:30 pm –  This is how I die.  I am going to die of frustration and boredom.

3:00 pm – Wouldn’t it be cool if German terrorists took over the building and I could climb around in the vents like John McClane? 

“Maybe I should put my shoes back on…”

3:30 pm – One hour.  I can do anything for an hour!  C’mon, optimisim, this is your cue to kick in!  Please?!  PLEASE?!

3:45 pm –  NO WAY YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS IT HAS TO BE AT LEAST 4:15 BY NOW I HATE YOU CLOCK.

4:00 pm – ::GASP::  IT’S 4:00!  THE DAY IS ESSENTIALLY OVER!

4:05 pm – Oh, wow, I could swear that I looked at the clock at it said 4:05 like 8 minutes ago.

4:10 pm –  Seriously, has someone been screwing with the clocks?  Someone has to have changed the system clocks.

4:15 pm – Almost over almost over almost over almost over…

4:20 pm – Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving in 5 minutes, I don’t even care.

4:25 pm – RUN AWAY!!  BYE WORK, I HATE YOU!

4:30 pm – Well, I guess that wasn’t so bad. (I strongly believe that this misunderstanding must be the result of some chemical release in the brain designed to help modern man keep a job and therefore sustain life.  In reality, yes.  Yes it was that bad.)

Thankful

Today, I’m going to switch gears from my usual belligerent brand of storytelling.  As much as life seems to take great joy in metaphorically punching me in the face, I do realize how incredibly fortunate I am to lead the life that I do.  With Thanksgiving right around the corner, I would like to take a timeout to count just a few of my many, many blessings.

I am thankful for my family.  I wish for nothing as much as I wish for them to be closer to me.  Our relationships may appear unorthodox to the uninitiated, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  As unusual as they may be, they are in so many ways responsible for the individual I am today.  I’ll let you all go ahead and take that for what you will.

I am thankful for boyfriend.  It’s unreal to think that only six years ago, we were total strangers.  Granted, he was still in high school…  Gross.  Regardless, he brings a smile to my face each and every day and I’m thankful that he made the remarkably poor decision to stick around.  I couldn’t ask for a better roommate, a better friend, and a better partner in all of life’s weird little adventures.

I am thankful for our little Simon and all of the confusing yet adorable joy he brings into our lives.  He’s snuggly and playful and makes the weirdest noises I’ve ever heard come out of a cat, and boyfriend and I are still giddy each and every time he does pretty much anything.  I’m so glad that we were in a position to rescue this little goober from a sad, stressful existence in the shelter and bring him into a safe, stable home full of love and catnip and unlimited cuddles.  As a brief aside, I am not thankful for the astounding amount of gas he emits.

I am thankful for the kung fu family that has welcomed me into their ranks since I moved out to Hershey.  They support me, challenge me, and provide me with an endless supply of laughter and drinking buddies.  Without the sense of community that emanates from the Center, my adjustment here could have been a painful, depressing experience.  I’m endlessly grateful to have a place that feels like home when everything else in my life still feels a bit upside down.

I am thankful for my friends.  Over the years, I have accumulated an amazing number of the most hilarious, intelligent, loving, generous friends a girl could ever ask for.  I don’t know what I’d do without them.  I cherish my time the ones I can see on a regular basis, and I constantly pine for those who aren’t here with me.  Who knew that so many awesome people would voluntarily hang out with me!?

I am thankful for my job, and subsequently thankful for two paid days off from said job.

Last, but certainly not least, I am thankful for all of you who read (and hopefully enjoy) my blog.  Without it, I am a writer without a home.  I started this blog as a way to express my writing and myself, and through all its growing pains, it has become something surprisingly meaningful to me.  Your feedback and support has been completely unexpected and profoundly appreciated.

I wish you all the warmest and happiest of Thanksgivings, filled with food, laughter, and love.  What are you thankful for?  Please share in the comments!

And fear not: your regularly scheduled surliness will resume next week.

Job Search: The Final Chapter

My job search, a saga that has dragged on for nearly 9 months, has finally come to an end.

After scrounging, researching, networking, and sending out damn near 150 resumes and cover letters, I got a job in Hershey.  Well, not in Hershey, in Harrisburg.  But it’s close to Hershey.  Everything out here is in a different town, but still close.  Towns here appear to be three to five blocks a piece.  Why is that?  It’s confusing, especially when trying to give or receive directions.

They DO know that not every neighborhood needs to be considered its own town, RIGHT?

But I digress.

My search started way back in November, when I applied for my first post-graduate school job.  I had stars in my eyes, a spring in my step, and (almost) a Master’s degree in my pocket.  Cut to April, after I had decided to move out of Pittsburgh but had not decided how I was going to pay to live and stuff, and my hopes had been effectively dashed.  I never once considered what I would do if I had no job prospects on the horizon by the time moving day arrived.  It loomed angrily over me as my days as a Pitt employee ticked down to zero.

Well, I thought, I’m going to job search and work out full time.  It’ll be fun!  I’ll just think of it as FUNemployment!

And the first few days were fun.  I unpacked boxes and did innumerable loads of laundry.  I arranged bookshelves and stocked up the kitchen.  I nested until I could nest no more.  The next day, I slept until 3:00 and ate ice cream as I stared wistfully out the window and longed for Pittsburgh’s distinctive skyline and comforting halo of smog.

Boyfriend (I know, I know…IT’S FIANCE NOW…but “boyfriend” has such a nice ring to it) would have none of that and began dragging me to work with him every day.  That meant I practiced kung fu for approximately 8 hours a day.  It was, indeed, funemployment.

Then the calls came.  Calls for interviews.  Interviews for jobs.  Jobs that would pay me cash money!  I had four in a two week span.  I primped and practiced smiling in the mirror, then I did my best to charm the pants off of each and every interviewer.  Calls slowly came in, and I heard back from three of them with good news.  But one remained.  Of course, it was the one that I could easily access through public transportation and offered the highest salary by far.  The others needed an answer within three days.  I called the Human Resources office at my last remaining option, only to hear an out-of-office reply crush my spirit by asking me to call back in a week.  What to do?!

You know how this story goes, right?  I take the huge chance and turn down the other jobs with the hope of getting the great one, only to be turned down and remain unemployed for all eternity?  Not quite!  You see, I DID turn down those other three.  I told them I had already been offered a higher paying job, thank you.  Confidence and positive energy for the win!

The next day, I was offered that job.  I would start in two weeks.  That gave me two weeks to lounge, to practice, to sleep, to eat ice cream, to visit my sister, and to spend quality time with boyfriend.  The job wasn’t perfect.  No writing, not exactly intellectually stimulating, but better pay than Pitt with great benefits, which is much appreciated while I try to figure out where to go with my writing from here.  Everything had worked out.

Until Pitt didn’t pay me for my accrued overtime and vacation hours in my final paycheck and never sent me a pay stub.  Maybe they’ll be sending me that in a later check?  I don’t know, HR won’t get back to me.  And with that, the universe is balanced once again.

The end.

For now.

Following Your Gut is Not a Fiscally Responsible Decision

Ah, the job hunt.

You bare your soul to a cold, calculating online application system, desperately trying to distill your entire essence into an awkward three-paragraph cover letter and a painfully insufficient resume.  More often than not, you receive no response.  Sometimes, an obviously pre-written email comes your way, informing you that, while your qualifications are impressive, the company has decided to go in a different direction.

When it rains, however, it seems to pour.  And it pours job offers tempting enough to make you consider offering your dreams up to be trampled by the corporate machine.

Could that sentence have made me sound like more of an annoying hippie?  Let me explain.

After my meltdown, I deemed it appropriate to open up my search a bit.  To go into things with a more open mind, you understand.  To expand my horizons, if you will.  By that, I mean that I panicked and applied to every job ever in the history of time.

The internet tells me this is a good idea.

Unfortunately, when you apply to a few jobs you want and a few jobs you don’t want, the universe finds it amusing to only present you with the options that will make you sad.  In the past two weeks, I have received two solid job offers.  One made my heart hurt as I listened to the interviewer describe daily office operations.  “You’ll be in that cubicle over there.  There’s a lot of overtime.  You’re busy all the time.  We’re flexible, though!  But we want you to start working, like, yesterday.”  Making the decision to decline that particular job offer wasn’t much of a problem.  Especially after the hiring official got smart with me when I told her no thank you.

The most recent situation, however, was a lot more upsetting.  The people at the office were incredibly nice.  They offered me WAY more money than I make now in addition to good benefits.  But something just felt off to me.  Maybe it was the way that they failed to mention that half the position would involve me acting as receptionist/travel arrangement-maker/calendar-keeper/coffee-fetcher until they offered me the job.  Perhaps it was how, despite the fact that I told them that I would start at the end of April, they put a start date of April 15th in the offer letter and said, “Well, if you NEED to wait until the end of the month, we can probably redo the offer.”  It could have just been the vague, condescending pressure I felt as I left the building.  I DON’T LIKE FEELING PRESSURED.  SHOULDN’T GETTING A JOB OFFER BE A PLEASANT, HAPPY EXPERIENCE!?

So I sat on my couch for a long time, going back and forth about what to do.  I didn’t bust my ass in graduate school to be a beverage wench in corporate America.  But I would be a well-paid beverage wench.  The idea of minimum 40-hour weeks on salary gives me the heebie jeebies, but health insurance is AWESOME.  Then boyfriend said, “If you don’t take this job, you really need to stop applying to everything that comes your way.”

WAIT, THE INTERNET DOESN’T HAVE MY BEST INTERESTS IN MIND?!

“What do you really WANT to do?” he asked in a totally reasonable manner.

“I JUST WANT TO HANG OUT WITH PUPPIES ALL DAY AND TEACH EXERCISE CLASSES AT NIGHT!” I shrieked, morphing into some sort of horrific job-hating banshee.

“Well,” he said calmly, “Why don’t you make that a goal?  Find a tolerable job that will pay the bills for a few years, then when we’re more financially stable, work part-time at an animal shelter and teach at nights.”

I was confused.  Being a grown up didn’t necessarily mean working in an office you hate and being angry all day long?  You can PICK what you want to do?  I realized that I have been so conditioned to equate money and professional success with adulthood that happiness had totally slipped my mind.  Society has made me feel like, if I have a low-paying job or am partially financially dependent on another person, I am an affront to feminism.  I am a failure as a person.  Oh my, it was all very deep and philosophical.  My brain is still a work in progress, you see.

So I went back to the drawing board to consider my job options.  I talked to my boss, who informed me that she would weep with joy at the thought of bumping my resignation date back a few weeks to allow me more job hunting time.  After discussing with anyone who would listen, making lists, bouncing ideas off of my family, and generally floundering, I decided to enlist the help of a very good friend of mine.

“Internet Cat, should I sacrifice my dreams and my integrity for a big juicy paycheck?”

How can you argue with that?  Internet Cat has spoken.

A Perfect Storm of Stress: A (Somewhat) Brief Study of My Blogging Hiatus

Stress is a natural part of everyday life.  We have all experienced periods of elevated stress levels at one time or another, sometimes due to our own choices and sometimes due to circumstances entirely outside of our control.

Unfortunately, sometimes these normal little stressors team up to ruin your life by distracting you from enjoyable things, such as socializing, exercise, smiling, laughing, eating, sleeping, and blogging.  Over the past three months, I have been experiencing one of these perfect storms of stress and have subsequently begun to lose my mind.  Come with me on my journey and enjoy the ride of from productive member of society to unhinged ball of crazy.

1. The End of Graduate School

STRESS LEVEL: Above Normal, Chiefly Offset by Excitement

SYMPTOMS: Nervous Energy, Celebratory Ingestion of Alcoholic Beverages

Obviously, finishing my Master’s degree at the end of December was a thrilling experience  I managed to get through an entire year of full-time studies, full-time employment, and part-time teaching.  And I hadn’t snapped and punched anyone in the head!  Not even once!  What an accomplishment!

To say that such a huge life change isn’t stressful, however, would be silly.  Completing a degree brings with it the unnerving realization that real life is creeping up on you once again.

2.  Quitting My Job

STRESS LEVEL:  Rising, but Manageable

SYMPTOMS:  Obsessive Usage of Employment Websites, Increased Intolerance of Awful Coworkers

As I’ve said many times, my job has good parts and bad parts.  For instance, the good parts are my work BFF, awesome benefits, my super supportive and understanding boss, my two delightfully surly assistants, and a sprinkling of entertaining coworkers.  The bad parts are all the other parts.

Putting in my notice was a hugely emotional experience.  I am so excited to finally be moving on after almost 10 years.  I’m unequivocally ready to leave this place, but telling my sweet, wide-eyed, second mother of a boss was pretty gut-wrenching.  A few days before I sat down with her to discuss my departure, though, I was forced to listen to one of the cartoon villain-esque mouth-breathers that stalk these halls deliver a horrifically racist, culturally-insensitive rant that immediately steeled my resolve.  After standing up to her idiocy, I picked a reasonable date, wrote my resignation letter, and bit the bullet.

Then I scampered home and wept in a corner.

3.  The Departure of Roommate

STRESS LEVEL:  Unusually Unpleasant

SYMPTOMS:  Increased Skype Usage, Weight Gain Stemming From Comfort Eating, BUGS

Well, it happened.  My boyfriend scored his dream job.  On January 1st, he moved his essentials out to Central PA and started working full-time as a kung fu teacher.  Confusing, conflicting emotions flooded me when this situation materialized.  He asked me how I would feel if he pursued the opportunity to begin on the path to his lifelong dream if it meant being apart for a while.

Of course, I insisted that he do it.  What was I going to say?  “No, dear, I need you to pass up that dream of yours to stay here with me and work at Starbucks while I languish in my dead-end office job.  Love you!”

There were complications, however, that we discussed at length.  How will we make time to talk?  Make time before bed.  How often will we visit one another?  At least once a month.  Would he still cover half of the expenses at our current apartment?  Hells yes, he will.  All of those things paled in comparison to his happiness and success.  Except, of course, for one issue:  WHO WILL KILL THE BUGS, ROOMMATE?!

So now, I go home to my big, beautiful, empty apartment, make my own dinner, sleep all on my lonesome, and kill my own bugs.  We’ve done it before, though.  On four separate occasions.  Prolonged separation always shows you just how important a person is in your world, and we’ve really gotten it down to a science.

That being said, I am totally over this long distance garbage.

4.  Unnecessary, Wholly Unwelcome Drama

STRESS LEVEL:  Dangerous

SYMPTOMS:  Stress-Weakened Immune System, Uncharacteristic Yelling, Elaborately Planned Imaginary Revenge Plots

Sometimes, you meet a person who, despite your best efforts to coexist peacefully, manages to track down your last nerve and drive it into the ground with their horrifically grating personality.  I am fortunate enough to have two such people in my life: one at work, and one in my personal life.  Both have been on top of their game in recent weeks, managing to somehow make me dread both being at work and leaving work.  This is problematic, as I am forced to exist in one of those realities at any given moment.

Many people will tell you, “Oh, just cut negative people out of your life!  It’s as simple as that!”  Said people have clearly never encountered a real situation with one of those awful people.  It is very likely because they happen to be one of those awful people.

5.  The Continuing Job Search and Interview Process

STRESS LEVEL:  Highly Volatile

SYMPTOMS:  Vulture-Like Monitoring of Email Inbox and Cell Phone, Hysterical Crying Outbursts

Applying for jobs is essentially a nightmare.  You pluck up your courage and tell someone what makes you special.  You write letters, organize resumes, and buy yourself some shiny new clothes just to impress potential new employers.  Nine times out out ten, though, they can’t even be bothered to send you an email telling you that they’re not interested.  Of over 40 applications, I have gotten less than 10 responses.  From those responses, four interviews.  Of those interviews, two of them were cancelled the night before by the companies due to some manner of irritating circumstances.  Traveling back and forth between Central PA and Pittsburgh for interviews has been quite a production as well.  Have you ever, stripped of any other options, been forced to take Greyhound?  If not, consider yourself fortunate and never, ever do it.

All I want to do is find a job and start this new chapter of my life, but while I wasn’t paying attention, I somehow morphed into Philip J. Fry in the pilot episode of Futurama, desperately fleeing the employment fate thrust upon me by a cold and uncaring society.

“I am going to be a writer or an editor!” I said, brimming with optimism and genuine hope for the future.  “It’s going to be awesome!”

“NO,” said the current job market, “YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!”

“But I have nearly 10 years of work experience and a Master’s degree!” I whimpered.

“I DON’T CARE!  YOU CAN BE AN OFFICE ASSISTANT.  THAT IS ALL.”

“But I am that!  I don’t want to be that anymore!”

“SILENCE.  I HAVE SPOKEN.”

6.  The Realization That, In Less Than Two Months, I Will Be (Potentially) Unemployed and Living in a Strange New Town

STRESS LEVEL:  Catastrophic

SYMPTOMS:  (see image)

Cannot…what if…how do I…I DON’T KNOW HOW TO…AUGH!!

So there you have it.  A vent, of sorts, to partially explain my long absence.  Weekly posts will be part of my new normal, once I finally get started on that.  By the end of April, I will have picked up the scattered, broken pieces of my brain and taken advantage of a golden opportunity to start fresh.

Otherwise, you will be able to find me lurking in the gutters of Pittsburgh like some sort of urban Gollum.  Either way, it should be fun to watch!  Stay tuned!