Skip to main content

Back in the saddle again:

So, on the second week of my new job, I think I have the handle of things. Kind of. I heard from many staff that no one before me had been left alone at the front desk for weeks or months when first hired. I was alone my third day -- and it was actually only my second day working. I spent the first day listening and learning and doing bits of the work. Then because the company does occupational health testing (drug and alcohol testing as well as medicals), my second day on the job was spent being poked and prodded and persuaded to pee (really much harder to do than you'd think, when a nurse is on the other side of the accordion door listening to make sure you aren't pulling out medical tubing filled with someone else's urine). On the plus side, turns out I am very impressively healthy (and not on drugs, lest any of you wonder). On the less than plus side, my weight is in the range that is now known as "Prosperous". Hilarious, yes. But not healthy.

So, my third day on the job, second day actually doing the work, I was left alone. Sure, I could puff my chest out and claim it is because I am just that quick a study and brilliant a worker. But I hardly have space in my area to puff out my chest when five guys are waiting to check in, I have three lines on hold, two more are ringing and I don't remember what tests to check on the forms.

Happily, what I thought would be my greatest challenge is not as difficult as I feared. The office opens at blooming 8 o'clock in the a.m. and closes at 5 p.m. Given I have to wake at 6:30 a.m. to get dressed and drive to work, and don't return home until maybe 5:30 p.m. at the end of the day, I spend 11 hours directly relating to work each weekday. In order to get up at 6:30, I endeavour to retire at 10 p.m. each night. So, I have approximately 4.5 hours each workday for me. That saddens me. However, I am actually able to rise in the mornings, which has not often been the case in prior jobs. And so far I have managed to spend my 4.5 hours well in pursuit of me-things. So, so far, it's o-kay.

Best of all, though, the people I work with are really all very nice and personable. I feel kind of outsider looking in, though. Half the staff are young pups, maybe 19 to 25 years old. The other half are older pups. Maybe in their late 40s to mid 50s. I feel in the middle. Not in the partying on a weekday then still having the energy to work the next day group. Not in the home after work to take care of hubby and kids side. Middle. Welcome to my life. But it's a nice office to work in. And with the foot-traffic we have, it is different each day. And it goes by quick quick quick, because I am usually juggling three or four things all day. Oftentimes it will be lunch-time and I'll feel I have only been at work a half an hour. I can't wait for when the sun is still out by time I get home. It'll feel like I wasn't at work at all (except for being pooped out by all that juggling).

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he...

And they called me mad when I bought the bunker in the woods!

I had heard that one way of thwarting telemarketers was to make them think the number they have dialed is in fact a fax machine.  I've tried different tones on my cordless phone, all to no avail.  Then I had an epiphany: When I turned sixteen, my sister bought me a new-fangled telephone.  It had push buttons, but it was still just a rotary phone - when you pressed each button to dial, you still heard the rotary "tat-a-tat-tat-tat" with every number.  I had held onto this phone ever since.  It's cute.  It works.  There was no reason to get rid of it. I was willing to bet that, in this day and age of advanced technology rendering yesterday's device obsolete on a daily basis, a telemarketer - who is likely going to be decades younger than my phone - would be unable to even identify a rotary phone by sight much less by sound. And voila!  Answering the phone with my rotary phone, and constantly pressing the buttons, the telemarketer kept repea...