Life in the corporate world

I got a temp job as admin assistant until my life clears through the freakin' state (it is the most ridiculous process: as if thousands in students loans and a year of unpaid internship weren't enough, I must continue to wait to make money as a therapist). So I sit in a cubicle all day, receiving emails from people who are insanely important and make more money in one day then I will ever make in my life from this ginormous company. Somehow, I am in the middle of this large process and these people come to me for answers. However, I've been here for less then a month and essentially have no idea what I'm doing. Thank gawd they didn't give me a phone extension otherwise people would call me and I'd have to give them instant answers, instead of going through my supervisor who is endlessly patient with me.

In the beginning I was pretty stoked on the deal. Good money for not doing a whole lot, really nice supervisors, company laptop (I've asked around about this, temps NEVER get company laptops that they can take home, I've totally got it made), it's close to home, flexible scheduling, I can request time off when I need it and they have a cafeteria which serves Snickers Ice Cream bars.

After a few weeks I've begun to see the downsides of corporate employment.

As I mentioned, I sit in a cubicle. Cubicles have got to be one of, if not the, worst things in the world. No privacy whatsoever, people walking by with the ability to see your work (or lack of work, meaning looking for free stuff on Craigslist, or... blogging), and you cannot escape listening to the conversations of those around you. I sit between human resources and the finance department. Why on earth I was placed between the two I will never know. Not that I expected a private office with an ocean view, but why here?

First off, I feel absolutely horrible for anyone who has to work in human resources. To my left, I listen, day in and day out, to phone interviews done by this one particularly cheerful lady. She's the type of lady they hire to do the voice prompts for answering machine services. Sweet, clear, intelligent voice, proper grammar and you can tell she is smiling the entire time she is talking. But the people she talks to, oh my! "Yes, sir, I understand you are currently making $11 an hour, and are requesting an increase to $23 an hour, can I ask why the large increase?" And then there are the people who have clearly never turned on, let alone operated a computer before, and they try to convince her that they have. "Ma'am, it's perfectly acceptable if you do not have familiarity with Adobe or Microsoft Office, I just need to be clear on the skills you do possess." These people scream at her! I can hear them through the phone and she sits 6 feet, and one lousy cubicle wall, away from me!

To my right, I have cat lady. Her cubicle is covered in pictures of her cats. And across the way is her cat-lady friend. They gossip about Tiger and Muffy and how they are awaken by their 'delightful' pets at 4 am, when their bellies are all dirty from rolling around in the mud but they still let them crawl into bed all wet and dirty because they are just the sweetest little blah blah blah.... who freakin' cares!? Shut up and get back to financing what ever the hell it is you finance and let me get back to my spreadsheet in peace!

And not too far is the new guy, meaning he started like 20 minutes after I did. He keeps asking me questions, "Shelly, can you run me through an SAP transaction?" "Shelly, do you know the procedure for requesting time off?" "Hey Shelly, do you know where the nearest Bank of America is?" Every time I remind: "I'm a temp, I do admin stuff, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh yeah, sorry about that."

And my favorite is bad shirt guy. He's about 3 cubicles down and is in some position of authority as evidenced by his overly bossy communication with everyone and how people pretend to act busy when they see him approaching. Each day he comes in with an absolutely terrible shirt, like straight from Express for Men. Looks like he rinsed it in starch so it refuses to wrinkle and makes this terrible crinkle noise when he walks by, I mean, I can hear the guy coming and laugh a little when he passes me. This is totoally the guy you see at happy hour and he starts to hit on you and you pee yourself a little in laughter because he thinks he has a chance with you. He does the 'finance-this' and 'important-person-that' talk and you roll your eyes and happily give him a false phone number in exchange for a free drink.

This job has completely confirmed my career decision. I like dealing with crazy people, but only for one hour a week, thankyouverymuch.