Do I Die of Thirst or Asbestos Disease??

Everyday brings new surprises, and just when I think things can't get any crazier, THEY DO! On my way down to the snack bar today, I passed the water fountain and here is what I found.....!

Oy Vey, they have RUN OUT OF WATER!!!

Then I had to make a pit stop in the ladies room in the basement. As you walk into the ladies room down there, there is a secret door! Of course, being the adventurer and snoop that I am, I opened the door! Lo and behold, there behind the door is an musty room full of old metal filing cabinets!! IN THE LADIES ROOM! I checked to see if there might be some long lost money in there, but alas, no.

On top of that, in that little mysterious room, there is this huge sign ...... !

HELLO??? If there is asbestos in THAT room, then where else is it in this archaic building!????

Any minute now, I expect Rod Serling to pop out saying, "Eeeeeooooooeeeeeoooooo!! - Karen has now entered what is known as The Twilight Zone"!!!

Now I'm a Switchboard Operator!!

Oh no. Tell me this isn't happening. Yesterday I was told to go with one of my co-workers to THE TOWER.... Gads, I thought, "I knew it! They are sending me to the Tower and I'm going to be BEHEADED!!" Actually, the Tower is one of our buildings here that houses the students (the one where in my first week here, I had to walk through the laundromat!).

Anyway, I thought he was taking me over there to learn some new facet of the job.... well, he was..... Only not part of the job that I thought was MY job! He gets me over to the 3rd floor of this building, and we enter a completely different department. He starts yakking to the receptionist, and I hang back, thinking he's just making small talk with her. All of a sudden, she ups and leaves, and he sits down in her reception desk chair! A cold chill went up my spine as I then realized that the job he was going to show me was the RECEPTIONIST JOB! Evidently one of my duties is to also sit in for this receptionist and answer a multiple-line phone (!!!) in a completely different department! Hell, I don't even like answering a one-line phone! I actually sat there dumbfounded for a few minutes before blurting out something to the effect of "What? We are supposed to answer phones??"... My co-worker saw my dismay and tried to appease me that we only did this 'once in a while'... Oh, really? I was afraid to ask what was once in a while.

So now, on top of doing the mail and being a messenger and cutting and pasting, I am to answer phones?!! I was sitting there trying to be a good sport, but inside I was really seething and thinking "what the hell is going on here!".. We started chatting, and I saw a good opportunity to ask him how much word processing he actually does on average. He says he does type some manuscripts ONCE IN A WHILE but that is about all. Oh dear. At this rate, even if I'm going to get to do straightforward typing, all my legal word processing skills are going to go down the drain! They don't do any Powerpoint, legal docs or other state-of-the-art software packages. I don't think they have a clue what a Pleading looks like or what red-lining means!

Then he proceeds to tell me, in trying to make me feel better I suppose, that when he came on board here, he had to do a lot of 'KINDERGARTEN' kind of work like cutting and pasting! He just validated what I have been thinking all along. Achhhhhhh! I'm back in Kindergarten and I don't even get nap time!

Time to go home and suck on my bottle!!

STUCK in the MUCK

Had some disappointing news at the end of last week - that other job I was trying out for was given to someone else. Damn. Really put me in a funk. I went home trying to think why I didn't get it.... Did I wear my hair wrong that day? Was it that they thought I was too overweight? Too old? Didn't answer questions right? Did my references not check out? Last name wasn't Lopez? Or was it that I had never been a White House Intern...???!! This is what happens when you don't get a job. You ruminate over the Why's.....

I KNOW my references are good and I even have two superb Letters of Recommendations. My skills were adequate if not superior for that particular job. I thought the chemistry was there between the two people I met with, and I even got called back for the second interview. Damned if I know what made them NOT pick me. Anyway, the news was a downer, as I was counting on that job to spring me outta this joint! Not only that, but it truly was the type of job I would have loved. Now, it's back to the drawing board as they say. However, I got on the Internet right away, and did manage to set myself up with two more interviews tomorrow.. Again, I'll have play hooky in the morning to go to them, but it's worth it. Onward and upward, .... or with my luck, sideways!

Every night I go home and try, reallllly try to find a way to like this job. God knows I don't really want to be job hunting again! I would like nothing better than to stay put and keep this permanent job with benefits. It wasn't easy even getting THIS job. But no matter how much I try to tell myself to think positive and LIKE this job, and to try to turn it around for myself here and OWN it, I just can't seem to get to that point. If it were just one or two things that I didn't like, it would be different. But it seems it is just plain wrong for me in every way! I am also feeling betrayed that a lot of the job description was not explained to me in the interview process. I feel they suckered me in ... saw me coming a mile away with that look of desperation on my face!! They advertised the job as Word Processing Specialist, and they saw a way to snooker me in under that pretext, but then are paying me less than the market rate, and fobbing all sorts of clerical and secretarial duties onto me, with little or NO word processing!

Since that disappointing news last week, I keep waking up in a sweat, having nightmares and TERRIFIED that (GASP!!) - I might actually be STUCK here!!! Omigod! Up to now, I've kind of had a flippant attitude about this place and job, feeling it wouldn't be long before I'm outta here. But now, the realization has set in that I might have to stay here just to have some money coming in! If nothing else turns up right away, I'm doomed to stay as long as it takes! Heaven knows I have to work somewhere as I have to pay the bills, albeit that this place is barely doing that anyway. But still, a bird in the hand, as the saying goes... But that made me so nervous that I ended up with a gyppy stomach all weekend!!

You know things are bad when Aruba begins to look good!! Achhhhh!

Fun and Games on the Morning Bus

Ah, there's nothing like a little morning ride on Muni to make one want to turn around, go back home and crawl under the covers.. My first bus route to this new job takes me through Chinatown and the second bus I transfer to takes me through the General Assistance Hotel Row! I don't know what's worse.... Having to find myself first thing in the morning sitting next to old Chinese women carrying pink bags full of some goddam stinky conch shell fish and dried moldy-looking funghi or sitting next to the dregs of society that haven't seen a bar of soap for what seems like more than a year!

This morning the second bus was really late, and a whole bunch of people had piled up at the bus stop, pacing, fuming and continually stepping off the curb to look for the non-existent bus coming down the street. Finally, it arrives, and we all pile on, some of us making it to a seat and most not. For a brief moment, I feel lucky to get a seat... but then realize that several people are jammed up against my knees, standing and hanging onto the overhead strap, and I have a perfect view and NOSE-WHIFF of UNDERARMS! Peeeeeeuuuuuuuu!!! And God forbid if part of your body or belongings dare TOUCH the passenger next to you, as you get this 'GET OUTTA MY SPACE!' look as they angrily pull themselves away from you, like they are going to get cooties. And funny how it's always the ones that seem to HAVE cooties that do this!

We had a doozy this morning however. A huge black guy with dirt-matted dreadlocks and dirt-encrusted clothing gets on with crutches. That's bad enough on a crowded bus. But this guy decides to sit near the front (which is ok), but then extends his crutches and his long broken leg that is in a filthy dirty cast waaaaaay out right in the middle of the aisle (which is not ok) which causes everyone to trip as they are getting on and off the bus. To make matters worse, he decides to vocalize his displeasure with life and moans and gripes ALL the way down Polk Street how he has GANGRENE in his foot and on his way to General Assistance to pick up his $29 assistance check! Some other guy with a skateboard and surfer-dude sunglasses who is standing down toward the middle of the bus starts talking back to the crutch dude, telling him to shut up, and then starts mocking him by singing "Walk Like a Man... la la la, tum tum de dum,"...! Well, Mr. Crutch does not find that at all amusing and he shouts something back, drooling in the process! So now we have a loud, verbal fight going on back and forth between Mr. Skateboard and Mr. Crutch with people crammed sardine-like in between them. The IPod people and the Newstalk Radio people (like myself) find we cannot even hear one word or song on our earphones, as we are drowned out by the curfuffle going on with these two characters.

Finally, when we arrived at the bus stop where I get out, I had to push and shove my way through the masses and hop-scotch over Mr. Crutch's crutches to get to the exit, where I then was finally popped out of the bus like burnt toast from a toaster!

Wow, what a wonderful way to start the day......!

THINKING AHEAD is Not a Government Requirement

Yesterday there we were in the mailroom when all of a sudden one of the leading Professors comes in and drops a bombshell with a simple question.... "Where do we put outgoing mail??" Evidently, with all the confusion of the move from one building to another, someone FORGOT to figure out where people are supposed to put outgoing mail! Just a 'slight' problem, since all the professors and other people HAVE to have somewhere to drop off their mail. You shoulda seen the look on my co-worker's faces; blank stares, puzzlement and NO ANSWER. Not only was there no place to put out-going mail, but there was no one to take care of putting the correct postage and labels on packages or envelopes! Professors and managers should not have to worry about figuring out postage, etc.

One of my co-workers suggested that a mail carton could be placed on the floor in the mailroom there, and out-going mail could be placed in there. Well, that did not sit well Mr. Professor at all... he says, "I'm not going to take a chance and drop my mail in some box on the floor, especially with other boxes all over the floor!" Then one of my co-workers had the audacity to throw in the 'brilliant' suggestion that Mr. Professor could WALK all the way over to our Federal building, GO UP to the 4th floor, GET THE KEY (from someone he did not know!), GO TO to Rm 4XX and drop the mail off there! Obviously, he did not like that either, and frankly, I don't blame him one bit. The professors and other senior staff members shouldn't have to run around trying to find the right room or get a key or whatever else simply to drop off outgoing mail! Again, this should be a job for a assigned mail person to make the rounds and pick up the outgoing mail, and/or have the outgoing mail in a central place that is accessible to everyone. I couldn't believe this hadn't been thought out, and now it was a problem!

I tried being helpful and put in my 2 cents that there was a mail box in our Federal building in the lobby. Omigod, that was quickly shot down, as I was told that NO ONE except the FEDS are allowed to use that mailbox!! WHAT???!! If mail is going out, what does it matter who put it in there??!! But no, that is the FED'S MAILBOX! Kind of like the FED'S FRIDGE, I guess!! I'm tempted to drop off my electricity bill in there just to see if it goes into a black hole. But with my luck, it probably will, and then my electricity will get cut off for non-payment! Geez.

This morning, the outgoing mail problem is the talk of the office. Boss is in here right now discussing this dilemma with my co-workers. I am trying to stay out of this. Whichever way you look at this, the problem of having our company split between 3 buildings is ludricrous. And what makes it even more ridiculous is that some of our staff are still in the old building, even though the reason they moved our department in the first place was because that building is getting retrofitted... So if some people can stay, why couldn't we?! .... especially since we are the ones having to do the dumb mail in the old building and are the ones ending up having to trek back and forth to the old building delivering things!! This does not make sense, but then this IS the government!

*****

It is now 3 hours later than when I first started this blog, and they are STILL discussing the problem of the out-going mail! God almighty, you would think that they are trying to work out the launch logistics for the NASA space shuttle!!

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Nerds

Over the past few blogs I have tried to describe this place I am working at. Well, yours truly snuck my camera in last Friday and took some 'contraband' photos!

There are these signs - NO LOITERING - in most of the building's windows, yet outside, on the lawns, on the monuments, on the sidewalks, and even under the signs themselves (!) there are bums and riff-raff LOITERING! Yet, Me, Yours Truly, Myself, Moi, gets in trouble for putting my sandwich in the fridge!!

Here is a picture of the long halls, ergo THE LONG HAUL... or From Here to Eternity...

Next is a shot of my workspace... doesn't look tooo bad I guess. Notice the ergoCRAPIC green chair...

Remember I told you about the bathroom sinks in the offices? Well, how's this for decor? SINK THE BISMARCK!

And this wins the 'door' prize...

Upon walking out the front of our building one night after work, this is what I stumbled upon... Some drunk fell off the steps and hit his head....
"Bad Boys Bad Boys... Whatcha Gonna Do If They Come For You!"....

Remember me describing the TV in the pink lunch room? Well, here it is in all its Plasma glory! You've heard of 'Breaking News'? Well, this is Breaking TV!

These, believe it or not, are our (Government-budgeted) FILE CABINETS....

And this is the POLITICALLY INCORRECT garbage can in my office ... And notice what it says right under 'Stop'.....WHITE paper only!! Holy Moley! Discriminatory garbage!!

And now, here is the infamous MAIL ROOM and all the MAILBOXES!

Please notice all the heavy, clumsy boxes we have to shuffle around!


Monday I spent the better part of the day CUTTING OUT LABELS... This was my therapy project for the day! Am I in Kindergarten or in a Rehabilitation Home? I was expecting the Recess Bell to ring at any time or the man in white coat to bring me back to my padded cell!


And last but not least, the toilet. See where the flush is? When you reach down to flush, you nearly fall in and flush yourself!

Martha Stewart is in Our Lunch Room Cooking a Side of Beef..

Just when I thought things couldn't get more warped around here.... Go down to the lunch room (which is painted bubblegum PINK!) in the basement to heat up my lunch in the one and only general-use microwave. Had to wait 4.25 minutes as someone else had something already in there ...(Geez, what kind of lunch takes 4.25 minutes?? Was this person roasting a pig in there or something?!) Anyway, the beep finally went off signifying that the person's food was DONE, and therefore, I waited for someone to come up at any moment and take their food out of the microwave so I could put mine in. But no one came up. Looked around and couldn't see anyone even remotely interested in checking to see if that was their food and if it was done. So I announced to the general 5 people in the lunch room, "Your lunch is ready!"... Still no response. So I did the most logical thing: I took their food out (which was obviously still piping hot) and put my lunch in.

All of a sudden up comes a woman who proceeds to sternley reprimand me for taking her food out!! She loudly states "YOU SHOULD NEVER DO THAT! YOU SHOULD ASK FIRST BEFORE TAKING PEOPLE'S FOOD OUT!"..... I looked at her like, "WTF??!!" I replied, "I DID ask and no one answered!"

What is it with this place! Now I am in trouble with the Microwave Police! Talk about unfriendly! Was this another "FED" person??? God knows, now my 'invasion' of the microwave will probably be reported!

Breaking Rules and Breaking Things

Last Friday I got called into the boss' office. Oh oh.. I had a feeling what was coming. Yes, indeedy, it was the 'FRIDGE' issue AGAIN!! Someone relayed to my boss that the culprit was described as a 'short blonde woman' (HA!!!), (God, did they find forensic DNA evidence?? Did someone call Nancy Grace?). So I had no choice but to Mea Culpa!! But why should I be ashamed anyway?! What the hell was my crime? Putting a sandwich into a fridge!? And it was on my 2nd day here, so what did I know as to whose fridge it was or that it was literally a federal offense to put a sandwich into that damn fridge!! This was just toooo much. What a waste of time and energy, when we have REAL terrorists out there and drug addicts and theives right outside our building's front door. Anyway, I was astounded that at the end of our meeting, my boss actually apologized to ME for this even happening! He said it was the ''FEDS' ,(who primarily occupy this building), who were the ones who decided to behave in this petty manner. Well, that made me feel a little better knowing my immediate boss wasn't holding this against me, but to think that it even went all the way up the chain of command to the Personnel Dept and to my boss' boss was just ludricrous. Just that it DID actually occur, in fact, just adds another checkmark in the column marked '"I gotta get outta this place"!!

There are also other ominous omens going on here around this place. I have never in my life had so many things go astray or break before ... Day One I was here, I lost my good earring. Traipsed all over the place retracing my path trying to find it, alas, to no avail.

Then last week, my watch band disintigrated, and I lost my black watch.

Before that, my shoe strap broke one day! Good thing I always bring a back-up pair of shoes, albeit ugly ones!

On Friday, I had on a fairly new outfit that I had not worn before. Thought I looked kinda cute. As I was going out for lunch, I noticed that the side seam near my pocket was coming apart. But no big deal as no one could see it...... or so I thought. By the time I was coming back from lunch down the seedy Market Street sidewalk, I felt an unusually cool breeze permeate a large portion of my body.... I looked down, and to my horror, could see that my whole right thigh is EXPOSED!! (NOT a pretty sight!!!) Now the seam had come apart from the pocket all the way down to the upper calf area of my slacks!! Geez! Would I be busted for soliciting out here on the streets of San Fran???!!! I pulled my jacket over me as best I could, but with a brisk breeze blowing, it was all I could do to make it back to work without completely falling out of my goddam pants!! When I got back into the office, I had to go into the ladies room and pin myself together! I was doing ok until it came time to go do THE MAIL. Sure enough, one slight bend to put Professor Whatchamacallit's mail into his mailbox, and R-R-R-I-P! .... Most all the pins pull out that are holding my pants together! So there I was standing there in the mailroom exposed again! Again, had to go back in the ladies room and pin myself together.

Going home that night, I had to be REAL careful sitting down on the bus, etc. as I didn't want to EXPOSE MYSELF again! Made it all the way home almost, and then all of a sudden as I get off the bus... T-H-W-A-P, CLUNK!!! Now the chain strap on my black handbag breaks, and the bag falls to the ground spilling most of its numerous everything-but-the-kitchen-sink contents!! Geezus. So there I was at the corner of Powell and Bay Street, pinned and stapled together, and now leaning up against a mailbox, trying to repair my chain strap with a pair of tweezers!!

At this rate, I'll have to bring a back-up pair of everything I'm wearing or maybe just bring my clone to work!

A Tale of a Two-Faced City

Yesterday I had a 2nd interview with another company that I'm very interested in. Decided to go straight there in the morning so I could be fresh and alert. Therefore, I made up a teensy excuse that I had to stay home yesterday morning to let the landlord in for a plumbing problem! Glad I decided to do it that way, as trying to get to the interview during my 45 minute lunch hour would have been absurd and almost impossible since the interview was at the bottom end of Market Street and I work at the upper end of Market Street. Would have been rushed, out of breath and not in the best of form for an interview.

I took a bus from where I live all the way down our picturesque Embarcadero along the waterfront. What a beautiful day and a beautiful sight! The blue sky and blue waters of the San Francisco Bay looked like a postcard. The company I was interviewing at was right at the foot of Market Street where I got off the bus. How convenient, I pondered. Certainly not like the current hassle of a commute I have to make clear across town on buses filled with Quaalude-Valiumed-drooling people with scruffy clothes. I even had time to stop at a Starbucks and fell in love with their new Green Tea Frappaccino!

Upper and lower Market Street are like night and day, black and white, like two different cities. As I walk toward the interview on Lower Market, a man is outside a cafe singing perfect pitch opera while people in business suits and attire are peacefully having their ciapatta sandwiches and mocha lattes.

Upper Market translation?... Welfare recipient dressed in Grateful Dead sweatshirt embellished with mustard stains and safety pin is entertaining the masses with his blaring boombox throbbing with Rastafarian music!

Lower Market: Businessmen in Ermenegildo Zegna designer ties multitasking as they power walk down the sidewalk while closing a deal ON their CELL phones.

Upper Market translation?.... Shifty-looking dudes wearing the finest in doo-rags and gold chains and fresh OUT of a CELL closing drug deals from one pocket to another!

Lower Market: The traditional clang-clang sounds of our historical California Street cable cars and the Ferry Building clock chiming on the hour.

Upper Market translation?.... The sounds of police sirens responding to hysterical 911 calls and chorus-like raspy voices all warbling the same tune of "Can you spare any change?" from every street corner and alley!

Ambled slowly back to work on the wrong side of town from the interview on the right side of town, dreaming of that company making me an offer I can't refuse!

BULLETIN: THE FEDS HAVE REPORTED THAT SOMEONE INVADED THEIR FRIDGE!

Omigod.. this is just toooo much. At 3:00 pm today, our boss comes running in our Word Processing office all out of breath and flustered, and says, "THE FEDS HAVE REPORTED THAT SOMEONE INVADED THEIR FRIDGE!!"... Yours truly suddenly froze up and sat there with a rigid-fake smile on my face, as I just KNEW they must have meant me! The boss continued on saying, "No one knows who it is or when it happened, but one of the Feds reported it to our boss!".... I was totally flabbergasted that someone would actually make a big deal out of something that trivial and go and complain to a manager! Meanwhile, I'm sitting there sweating, thinking: "Omigod, do I 'fess up or do I shut up?!!"

Anyway, I did speak up and confessed that near the first day I was here I did try to go and put a contraband (!) sandwich in that fridge down the hall, but I couldn't even do that as that woman (a FED????) stopped me. But I had no idea at the time it was verboten or who she was or who the fridge belonged or even that it mattered, for Pete's sake! My boss said, no it can't have been you as they said there were nasty words exchanged and the person also used the microwave. Nope, guess it ISN'T me then, as I never used the microwave in there and certainly didn't say anything nasty to that lady, except "Why isn't it ok to leave my lunch on one of the empty shelves?". Now maybe in FED-SPEAK, this is called a nasty response. Don't know. Have no idea if they were referring to me or some other person who also BROKE THE RULES!

In any case, how absolutely petty and ridiculous! I can't believe the hoo-har over this! And that someone would take the time to go and complain to a department head is just ludicrous. THE FEDS! Geez, am I now going to get transferred to Guantanamo Bay?

Then I asked "Well, just who ARE these FEDS? What part of the government do they work for and what do they do?" My boss replied, "Hell knows, maybe Alien Autopsies!"

AGHHHHHH!!!!! GET ME OUTTA HERE!

Paying the Bill, Continued

UPDATE: Proof that this world is going nuts! I thought, just for the heck of it, I'd try calling SBC back to see what would happen if I got another customer service person...

Sure enough, this time I got a sweet-voiced lady who quickly processed my credit card payment with no problem! Can you believe this? The left hand does not knoweth what the right hand is doing. Well, anyway, that's a big relief! Now I don't have to rush out of here tonight and find a pay station!

"We Can't Let You Pay Because You are Behind in Your Payments...!" HUH???!!

This is just ridiculous. I am behind on paying my phone bill. My final due date to pay the past due balance is today, and I ran around like a crazy person yesterday to round up enough money to make the payment today... WHEW! Saved! ..... Or, so I thought!

Call SBC to make the payment. Put on hold... . Dum, te dum te dum..... wait... wait some more.. finally get a customer support (support?) person. Proceed to give her the ATM/credit card #. She takes it all down in an agonizingly S-L-O-W way, and then after hanging there on the phone with her for now all of 25 minutes, she says "Oh wait! You can't pay over the phone, because you are behind in your payments"...... HELLO?
Me: "But your rep said yesterday I could call back and make a payment that way"...
SBC nitwit: "No, it is our policy - you have to go to a pay station and pay in person"
Me: "Well what if I was a person who was handicapped, or sick, and couldn't get to a pay station?"
SBC jerk: "That is the way it is - You have to pay in person and you have to pay today!"
Me: "Well can I pay online?"
SBC nincompoop: "No, you can't because you are behind in your payments".
Me: "Well isn't that totally counterproductive??!!! How am I going to get to a pay station today if I work til 6:00 pm?"
SBC flunkey: SILENCE
Me: Slam phone down, and in doing so, spill my Vanilla latte all over my bill! God almighty.

Get on the Internet and try to pay that way anyway. NOPE. Up pops message saying "Please call Customer Support".... !!! CATCH-22!

Sprayed, Vacuumed and Leered At

Most of my lunch was not looking too inviting having sat festering on my desk since 8:45 a.m, but since I had little cash on me, I decided against finding somewhere 'out there' to eat, and just eat the watermelon I brought for lunch. Wandered aimlessly trying to find somewhere clean and safe to sit or have lunch. Finally found a part of a cement fountain display near our building to sit on. The cement was hard, but at least it was out in the fresh air. Got as comfy as I could, took out my paper and proceeded to eat. All of a sudden, the breeze changes direction, and I get sprayed from the fountain! Time to pack up and move from THAT spot! Headed across Market Street to see if I could find somewhere to sit and found this dive of a hotel with a lobby. I dove into this dive and sat down in this rather comfy armchair. No sooner than I get comfortable, the hotel maid comes over and runs the vacuum right into and over my feet, as if to give me a big hint to MOVE! But once she left, I finished reading my paper there, even though I did not feel comfortable enough to eat my lunch in there. For some reason, I seemed to have lost my appetite... hmmmm.. wonder why.

As I sat there, contemplating the predicament I am in at this job and life in general, I look around and notice that the name of the hotel is the Aida Hotel! (as in the Egyptian Opera Aida!). Geez! Now, I REALLY think I've been transported back to Egypt! And to top it off, there are Egyptian pictures on their walls!

By the time I dosey-doed all over the place trying to find a decent place to eat, it was time to go back from lunch... Oh, did I mention we only get 45 MINUTES for lunch, and not an hour!!!??? That's another gripe. Hardly enought time to eat, go the bathroom and come back in through the metal detector! As I headed back, some 3rd world guy with one tooth missing yells out at me,
"Hey blondie, how are ya, sweetie?!"... Great for the ego.

Yippie!! I'm a Mail Clerk!

Filled you in on the environment and locale of my new work place. Now for the job itself. Oy vey.

The job I applied for and got hired for is a Word Processor at a law college. My specialty is working with Microsoft Word & Wordperfect and other software packages, creating and/or editing various legal documents, including pleadings, manuscripts, proposals, etc. I also am adept with various graphics packages and spreadsheet packages and pride myself on my expertise in creating complicated tables, working with Table of Contents, Table of Authorities, Redlining, and other legal word processing skills. I am also familiar with legal terminology and conventions. It's way more than just 'typing', and after many years of working within law firms, I have parlayed my experience into legal word processing which is an 'animal' unto itself. There are even legal document management system packages that I have learned as well. Having these skills puts me in a certain salary bracket in this job market, which is very good compared to just being a secretary or an administrative assistant. I have slaved too long and too hard to learn all this stuff to let it slide off. When I took this job, these are the tasks I thought I'd be doing.

WRONG!! Day one, I am told I will be doing the MAIL. HELLO? Evidently, there is a routine here which is that all 4 (!!) of us in the Word Processing Dept. have to go and sort out the mail everyday and put it in the various Professors, Deans and other staff mailboxes! And there are at least 200 mailboxes!!!

Now, before this office moved from their original building, the mail room was in that same building. But guess what now, folks.... the mail is still in the original building and we are not! Therefore, we have to exit the building and trek, among and between the riff-raff outside, way over to the other building to DO THE MAIL. The first time they took me over there, I was rather shocked. They hadn't done the mail since the move (over a week), and the mail had piled up into 8 mail cartons!! It took 4 of us over an hour and a half, and involved bending, stooping, reaching and lifting! Something I certainly wasn't told about! However, now that we have caught up on the sorting of all that piled up mail, they still require all 4 of us to trot over there every single day to do the mail TOGETHER. I certainly did not expect this to be a part of my job.

Day 2, the boss comes up to me and gives me a memo to do. Ok, no problemo. Easy. But then, after the memo was finished, I had to follow him down to a locked room , of which only HE has a key, make 8 copies, and then ...... here comes the good part...... we had to take these 8 copies to the various Professors & Deans in person to 3 different buildings and make sure that they were placed on the respective desks. No, the memo could not be faxed; no, the memo could not be emailed. Why? "Has never been done that way"... Oh. So it became apparent that another one of my job duties was to run around and deliver messages, memos, and whatnot whenever! I asked if they had a mailroom person or a messenger. They looked at me like I had asked if Brad Pitt delivers the mail. The boss ran me around to all these buildings taking 'short cuts' as he put it, where we went through exit doors, down long halls, up and down stairwells, in and out of freight elevators, and god knows what other secret passages! One building is the Dorm for the law students, and I almost fainted when he led me right through the laundromat room where people's socks and underwear were dancing and flopping around in the clothes dryers!! Yes, it truly was Wet Socks in The City!!

Now, what you need to understand is that I always make it quite clear in my interviews that I do not want to be in a position where I have to stand or be on my feet a lot, as I have totally flat feet (don't laugh - it's not funny!) and have immense pain and discomfort when I have to stand for periods of time or when I have to walk fast on cement or other hard surfaces... And it is NOT a question of wearing comfortable shoes... it's the foot itself that has a deformity which puts the weight on the foot all wrong, so it doesn't matter whether I wear thongs, tennis shoes, heels, socks or nothing! Plus, hey! I'm over a half century old, for Pete's sake! I am NOT a mail clerk, messenger girl or a gopher! I am supposed to be a Word Processor. Anyway, after that hour-long trek around 3 buildings and the palaver of re-entering our security building (taking off shoes, watches, going thru metal detector, etc), I was totally worn out! And this is SUMMER.... What fun it will be when it is winter and storming and raining out to have to trek out of the building several times a day with an umbrella in tow along with the memos!

The next morning, after just getting in and sitting down ready to enjoy my morning coffee, the boss comes in and informs me that he had made an error on yesterday's memo and we'd have to re-do it. This meant not only retyping it and re-copying it, but REDELIVERING it to the same 8 people in the 3 buildings as we did the day before!!! ACHHHHHHH!!! So before my first sip of coffee, I had to put my jacket back on, and make the trek again!

Later that afternoon, a guy walks into our Word Processing Dept. and upon seeing me, raises his hands and hails, "Ah YOU must be the ADMISSIONS SECRETARY!".... I turn around and say, well, no, I am one of the Word Processors. However, he goes on to inform me that my boss has told him that, indeed, I am the NEW ADMISSIONS SECRETARY! Say What????? Hmmmm.... it now seems that the task regarding the admissions which I thought was a computerized function, is actually a clerical, secretarial function! He excitedly goes on to explain how he and I will be closely working together to put new admissions resumes and data into the BIG BINDERS. In other words, I will be sorting resumes and other paperwork, collating them, punching holes in them, (Is this what I spent years in law firms learning to do???) and then putting them in binders! At that point, I was ready to run. This is exactly the type of work I DON'T want to do!

Just an hour ago, my boss called me in his office to familiarize me with the DHL and FedEx PROCEDURES....! Seems that too will be one of my tasks. Evidently Professors frequently come in and hand us stuff to send somewhere, and they are shipped DHL or FedEx. Have to know how to fill out the forms and the commercial invoice. Now, if it's FedEx, here's the humdinger..... Instead of dropping off the FedEx packet in the official FedEx bin downstairs, I am to walk it over to.... (and this is exactly how he told it to me...) ....THE CHINESE GUY on Market Street!!! This is what I was actually instructed to do! Evidently, some of the law school accounts with FedEx are behind in payment (!), so the official FedEx guy won't take them! So one has to leave the building, (once again!), and trod 2 blocks down the seedy part of Market Street to some hole-in-the-wall vendor run by some Chinese guy and hand the FedEx packet to him!!! You would have loved to see the look on my face when I heard this one! If I have ever had a Jennifer Wilbanks moment, that was it!!! I mean, it's not my fault some of their accounts are behind in their payments, and why the hell should I have to risk my safety schlepping stuff down the worst part of Market Street to some unknown non-employee! Unf****ing unbelievable.

It is now Monday of my second week. I almost didn't come back. I had a couple of tentative job things ready to pop Friday, and truly, if either one of those had panned out, I would have walked. As it went, however, neither has yet made a decision, so I don't want to quit unless I have something else to go to. I was soooooo ready to cut the cord Friday, that I took my coffee cup other personal items home with me. In the whole week I was here, I only typed that one memo. I did nothing else on the computer. Instead, I spent the whole week running back and forth from the various buildings delivering stuff or doing the mail! This is not for me. I literally went home with sore legs and arms. At this rate, all my word processing expertise will go down the drain and if I don't use it, I'll lose it, and be way behind if I ever want to go to any other Word Processing position within a company. On top of not doing the type of work I thought I was being hired to do, I am getting paid way below my market value, as this is a government job and not the more better-off private sector. Now, here is the kicker. I also found out on my first day, that payday is only ONCE A MONTH!!! And guess what? I started this job on July 5 and payday isn't until a month away on August 1!!!! How the hell am I gonna survive that long with no income!!!??? This is not good.

If it were just a case of putting up with working in an old building and even taking a lesser salary, I might be willing to stick this out. But I am not even doing the type of work I like and was hired for. This is completely a Bait and Switch, in my opinion. I feel duped. And I physically cannot handle having to do so much walking and climbing and lifting and toting. That is one of the reasons I love Word Processing, as at my age, I like to sit down and mostly stay down!

Over the weekend I thought to myself, "Well, Karen, just hang in there and get in some benefits first". I was thinking I could take care of my vision and get a much needed new lens prescription for my glasses. However, on coming back in today, Monday, I found out that I cannot apply for the vision care yet until I have one official payday! Which means not until after August 1st! And then the time it takes to get to a eye doctor, get examined, get the glasses, and get them paid for, could take another 2 weeks at least. Frankly, I don't know if I can stick it out that long.

Oh yes, one more irritant. Today I brought my lunch in and placed it in the big fridge that is in a room 2 doors down from our office. A woman was in there pouring coffee, and as I went to reach for the fridge door, she stood right in front of the fridge and said, "Who are you?"... I informed her where I worked and who I was, and attempted again to get the fridge door open. She literally stood right in front of it with her arms out at her side, BARRING me from from even touching it, saying "You are NOT allowed to put YOUR food in OUR fridge!". Evidently the fridge belongs to another department, but geez, so what?!! It's not like the fridge is a security-clearanced file cabinet!! I politely replied, "Well, why would it hurt if I put my sandwich on this empty shelf?".... Oh my god, you would have thought I had asked to store plastic explosives in there! So now, I have a sandwich that is sitting on my desk going limp. By lunch, it will be a goner!

Ok, so now it's lunch, and I have no other option but to venture out amongst the living dead in this area and find something to eat at one of the dives in this neighborhood.

Good luck to me if I next don't now die of food poisoning.

Where The Hell Am I?? The Cairo Egyptian Museum???

The first thing I thought of when I arrived at my new work place was ......"Wait a minute! Did I take a wrong turn and end up in the Cairo Museum??" During the initial interview process, I wasn't informed that they would be moving to another building! I only learned this fact over the phone one day after trying to work out a start date with Personnel, and they said to me, "Why don't you wait until after July 5 when the MOVE IS DONE....." Er, excuse me? The move? "What move?" I ask. "Oh, we are moving out of this building into the OLD (accent on OLD - remember that word!) United Nations Building while this building is being retrofitted. Oh. It turns out the building I have to report to is 2 blocks away from the one I interviewed at. Not extremely far, but far enough to throw me off with the bus stops and not knowing what to expect in the way of accommodations and facilities.
The first day I had to report to the Personnel Dept for 'Orientation'. I had a hell of a time just getting there that morning as the 2 buses I had to take across town took their good time ambling up and down the hills of SF with the speed of a donkey cart, while picking up what seemed to be nothing but indigents who stunk and elderly Chinese people carrying boxes, bags of crushed soda pop cans and pink bags! Needless-to-say, this was NOT the usual downtown business commute route! I rushed into the building, out of breath, but relieved to get off the bus and breath some fresh, if not foggy, air.
Arrived in the Personnel Department exactly 2 minutes late, and the personnel woman, with her dangling 4th of July plastic earrings, was already looking at me with daggers. Oh oh. In trouble already. Anyway, I sat down expecting to hear all about the procedures and the company, and thinking that at any moment, she would offer me a cup of coffee, which I could clearly see right behind her desk. Instead, she pulled out a HUGE pile of papers and booklets:
Me: "Oh I already have filled in all the paperwork"
Personnel: "Ah, but not these! There are more and these are different!"
I'm thinking and visualizing: CUP OF COFFEE -- CUP OF COFFEE!!!
But the mental telepathy did not permeate into her brain, and I had to make my way through a mound of paperwork at that ungodly time in the morning without any liquid wake-up juice! You wouldn't believe the forms I had to further fill out! Disclosures, clearances, HMO's, PPO's, Joe Schmo, age, weight and serial #, etc. What point is it anyway to have a law that says employers can't ask our age when, in fact, I have to fill in at least 5 forms with my birthdate on them!!? So there I was in Personnel for an hour and a half filling in forms with my scratchy reading glasses on, and NO COFFEE. Finally, my new manager came over to greet me and to bring me to THE WORD PROCESSING department where I am to be working. Of course, it is NOT the set-up I got shown in the interview, as this is now in a completely different building. The original building I was shown was a fairly modern building, clean and had a wonderful big cafeteria on the 2nd floor. The building we are NOW housed in happens to be located in a not-so-nice area of San Fransicko. Across the way, and not too far, is our Silly Hall (er, City Hall), but this whole area is a Mecca for the down-and-outs, bums, loiterers, drug users, mental cases, and general riff-raff. Frankly, the whole area is downright depressing. You don't dare sit on the lawns outside the buildings for fear of plopping yourself down on a hypodermic needle or someone's bodily waste!! Anyway, we proceeded past all the down-trodden flora and fauna, and entered the building. STOP. No one can go in unless one has a CLEARANCE and BADGE. This is a Federal Building, and as such, you have to go through the metal detector every time you enter. That includes the whole rigamarole of screening purses, bags, shoes, etc. - just like at the airport! I am already thinking "Oh geez".....
The moment I got inside this building, I thought I had been transported to Cairo's Egyptian Museum!! It is dark and old with long wide halls that seem to disappear into infinity and they ECHO!! Just like in Cairo's old musty dim-lit Egyptian Museum! I don't know why the hell they are retrofitting the other building when this one is so old they should be retrofitting THIS one! God forbid we should get even a mild 2.1 earthquake as I'll probably be trapped in one of their antiquated toilet stalls! Speaking of toilet stalls, the paint is chipping and peeling on the doors in the stalls, and the flush handle is so far behind the toilet, that you almost fall in the toilet trying to flush it. Already, I have 'dipped' my jacket bottom in there and came back to my desk with a wet lower half! The door knobs are loose on the old wood doors, the desks are old metal ones that creak and jam, the chairs are NOT in any way remotely ergonomic, (more like ergoCRAPIC...!), and the black old-fashioned desk phones (forget Re-Dial!) ring so LOUD (like phones sounded in the 50's) that they nearly made me jump out of my seat the first time I heard one! Oh, and another nice touch is that most of the offices have.... ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?.... a bathroom sink!!! YES. A regular old bathroom sink with the pipes underneath and with old fashion hot and cold taps!!! Why on earth sinks were ever put in these offices, I just don't know! My co-workers do not seem to know either! Then, most all the potted plants in the offices are even depressing... they are all limp and turning brown. Evidently, when the move was made last week, all the plants had to be put through the X-Ray machine (!), I was told, in case there was contraband IN THE DIRT!!
Now, the original building had a rather large, nice cafeteria. This building has a room about the size of a closet that serves as a 'snack shop'. You can get sandwiches, coffees, etc there, but it is in no way like the one I originally saw as part of the initial interview tour! This snack bar is in the basement of this building, and waaaaaaaay down a long hall. In an adjoining room, they do have tables and chairs where you can sit and eat and read out-of-date magazines and/or watch a non-cable TV that is on its last legs. The color is so bad that the people's faces are a shade of mauve and the sky looks a bit greenish. Yesterday, when London was bombed (just so devastated over that), I went down there at lunch to see if I could catch the news. But the only stations you could tune in were soap operas and one Spanish station. I guess I should be grateful that they even HAVE a TV at all!! To make matters even more difficult, we do not have a microwave or fridge anywhere on any of the floors. So it makes bringing in lunch rather difficult, since there is nowhere to store perishable foods or keep drinks cold. That leaves us with the choice of buying something from the dungeon's not-so-cheap 'snack-bar' or going completely outside the building and venturing into the lower depths of Market Street and outer limits of The Tenderloin district (SF's red light and drug area), which, then of course, means you have to go through all the security hoo-har on re-entering the building. I went out on my first day here to suss the neighborHOOD (Note the stress on the word HOOD), and passed several cockroach-style Chinese restaurants, about 10 pawn shops, 3 porn cinemas, one bargain basement clothes shop with hoochy-mama type clothes in there, and one ATM machine that charges a $2.50 service fee! There are no Walgreens, no well-known banks, no post offices, no Starbucks, and no grocery stores anywhere in sight. You wouldn't believe the types of riff-raff I have to pass in the street down this way. Extremely depressing, to say the least. Some of the varieties of human (?) beings I saw were: one Tranny (transsexual), who was actually a 6 foot tall man with blonde hair dressed in a leopard bustier and gold lame high heels strutting down the street eating an ice cream cone; quite a few wanna-be rap stars with their humongous boom boxes (Geez, haven't these dudes heard about a new invention called a TRANSISTER RADIO WITH EARPLUGS???!!) who are wearing baggy pants flopping around their ankles and hanging down so low you can see their butt-crack hanging out; homeless women with food coupons hanging out of their pockets with 2 or 3 ragamuffin children and a mangy dog in tow; many wrinkled, sucked-in-faced heroin addicts, one of which was aimlessly and carefully folding old newspapers and tucking them neatly into a ripped plastic bag that contained an empty water bottle and coke can; and last but not least, red-faced and red-nosed winos draped along the sidewalks holding out creative begging signs.
Ok, now for my boss. My boss is a little skinny guy who reminds me of Wally Cox of Mr. Peepers fame. He looks and acts gay, but who knows and who cares. His arms are so skinny that he puts Lara Flynn Boyle to shame. He's got a twisted sense of humor, which is better than no humor, I guess, but after this short 4-day work week here so far, it's already beginning to grate on me. He can't get over my interest in Egyptology and my various travels around the world. He was bowled over by my resume which mentions that I worked in Egypt and London, and I don't think he can quite wrap his mind around my eclectic and eccentric interests. He keeps joking to others about my 'hieroglyphics' and that I'm 'Queen of the Nile'.... We went into the law library the other day and passed some rolled up charts, and he yells out, "Oh look, Karen's ancient scrolls!!!", then follows his 'jokes' with a hyena-like shrill laugh. Then while pushing some boxes down the hall on a dolly, he all of a sudden breaks out singing "Hello Dolly..!"... That kind of humor, if you see what I mean. He lives with his disabled, diabetic mom, and says that all her medical supplies are in his bedroom. Hmmmm... "HER (??) medical supplies??? Then he is always quoting old classic TV programs like I Love Lucy or The Adams Family, so I can only imagine his social life! It's almost pathetic. The other 3 people in my department are nice enough people and easy to get along with, but God only knows how the hell they qualify as 'Word Processing Technicians'.... One guy who has been in this department and with this place for 15 years, asked me yesterday how to do UNDERLINES IN MICROSOFT WORD.....!!!! HELLO????!!!! I mean that is basic Word Processing and kind of like if you are a Chef, asking how to turn on the oven! Oh, and lest I forget, from my desk, I can also hear the lovely waterfall sound of a toilet flushing! Well, isn't that a nice touch --- Piped in poopee muzak...! And when I'm walking down the tomb-like, echoing, inner sanctum atmospheric halls here, I expect at any moment to run into a Mummy!
More in the next blog about JOB itself!! Now, excuse me while I go home and have a drink.

Have it Your Way

Due to the numerous comments from readers that my previous blogs were giving them detached retinas with the stark color contrasts, I have, for your comfort and pleasure, re-designed the blog page! I hope you will find these new color combos easier on your eyeballs, and will appreciate what I had to go through to get it fixed!!! Yours truly is only a beginner HTML'er, and let me tell you, I gave my half century old brain cells a work out trying to figure out all the codes to do this stuff!!

Now that I am getting settled with my new look blog, and have started my new JOB, I will go into more detail about THE NEW JOB in my next post, so stay tuned.

How To Fingerprint a Sliced Finger...

Well, as they say, (by the way, who is 'they' anyway???... ), when it rains it pours. Now that I have accepted a permanent job (the first one that came along and out of sheer desperation), all sorts of other things are now popping up. I've had 2 other interviews in the interim, just in case. Also, 2 temp agencies called me with temp jobs. Wouldn't you know it. When I was sitting there biting my nails wondering how I was going to afford the next roll of toilet paper, the phone did not ring. Anyway, one of the other interviews I went to last week was very positive, and I think I would really love the job... and oh yes, it pays almost $15K more a year than the job I just accepted!! HELLO???!!! But we'll have to see. I don't actually have a job offer yet from them, but they do want me back in for a 2nd interview. Then, during my 'idle' week, I had to make a mad dash down to this Detective Agency (!) to get fingerprinted for my new government job I had accepted with a University Law School, since they require a clearance. (Who me? Clear??? HA!!!) Even though my eyes weren't bulging out, I now I know what the Runaway Bride felt like! The fingerprint guy took one look at my cut and bandaged finger, and said "hmmmm, this might be a problem..." My cut was right in the area of my index finger where the fingerprint is critical, and therefore, I had no choice but to obey him and have him roll and mush my finger around in the inkpad, thereby totally contaminating my boo-boo!

CATatonic

Ok, ok, I haven't expired or disappeared in Aruba... I'm still alive and as well can be expected for someone with my luck.. or lack thereof, since I've always lived by the motto that the Light at The End of the Tunnel is probably a train!

Since I last posted, I finished my temp assignment at the company where I sliced open my finger (Is that what is meant by working your fingers to the bone???....), and had a whole delicious week and a half to myself before starting this new job. But more about the new job in a bit.. !

I had delusions of spending my whole work-free week doing odd jobs around the house, catching up on reading, giving the cat a bath, starting my search for a literary agent, and, yes, blogging. Did I do any of those things? Well, some. I found myself sleeping a lot, which I really needed and enjoyed, and generally trying to figure out what I should be doing next. I did a lot of thinking... which resulted in holding me up from doing the things I was THINKING about doing! However, I did brush the cat's teeth... which turned out to be a bit like mud wrestling. Yes, we now try to brush her teeth, as periodontal work on pets can be so extremely expensive, due to the fact that they have to anesthestized. No matter where you get a grip on a cat, they seem to turn inside out and upside down and morph into a slippery eel. Trying to hold on to a squiqqly, squirming cat while attempting to open its mouth with a finger brush is a challenge not to be underestimated for the Guinness Book of Records in Endurance and Patience. The glob of dental gel that I had put on the finger brush ended up everywhere but in her mouth. It was on her paw, it was on her ear, and it was even on MY ear!! The whole procedure, plus her pitiful meows and grunts, made me feel like Ivan the Terrible! But she forgave me later that evening and cuddled up to me, so I guess she knew it was for her own good..

Now, wait til she sees Mama coming with the toenail clippers!!!