51 posts tagged “work”

There's been so much on my mind over the past week, but I haven't been able to get it out and onto the screen.  It's summer here, for all intents and purposes, though the calendar still gives us a week or so.  This is the first summer that I've worked consistently since - gosh, since marriage, save cleaning offices a few evenings a week back in Rob's college days.  Oh, and cleaning a friend's home in the early 90s down in Charleston. 

Maybe that's why I feel a bit discombobulated...not having the summer off to be with the kiddos.

That's not necessarily a bad thing, though.  The kids are at an age where they don't need me breathing down their throats every second.  It gives all of us a sense of independence.

And I enjoy my job, though honestly, it's a bit dull at times!  A good dull - none of the drama and stress attached to the previous workplace - but still - and there isn't a gentler way to say it - dull.  I've already mastered the routine, and most days I finish my administrative tasks within 2-3 of the scheduled 5 hours.  But I am there to answer the phone and greet guests also, so I don't feel too bad about the down times.

So, let's see...what have I missed...?

Vacation was lovely.  We spent two nights at the beach, and we had the most relaxing, laughter-filled time as a family that we've had in ages.  The final two nights were spent more inland, and we were able to hang out with some life-long friends, as well as some new ones.  Again, much laughter abounded. 

One of the best parts of the trip was being at our "home" church.  We get more hugs there than we do in a year or more at the church here!  The lead pastor is also a gifted speaker, so I am never bored, even if he tends to be long-winded.  And we were able to tour the facilities and see all the cool changes/additions/upgrades they've made in the last year or two.  It is such a vibrant place, and I still miss it, even after almost three years.

In other news, The Daughter got her permit last Thursday!  She has to drive at least 50 hours supervised over the next 6 months.  I've been letting her drive to and from work each day, and she's doing pretty well, though she has what I call the "wild ass turn tendency".  I had forgotten that it takes some time to coordinate the gas pedal and the steering wheel.

No whip lash yet, but we've come close a few times (heh).

I took that personality test that everyone's been taking, but true to my tend-to-be-Gemini (though I don't "believe" in horoscopes, sometimes I wonder about the "twin" thing when it comes to me), I couldn't quite decide between two different results: The Engaged Idealist or The Social Realist.  EI was the initial result.  But again, on at least two of the four questions, I could have equally chose either answer.  So, perhaps I am a mix of both.

I am going to have Rob read them both and tell me which is more accurate before I post any results.

Speaking of Rob, he's a bit anxious about work.  They've called in all the remote folks for an all-hands meeting on Monday.  The buzz is that the company is being sold (Liberty Media owns them now).  Not sure what that could mean, but I am sure that it will bring big changes in benefits and structure.

He's almost finished with his Associates Certificate in Project Management - that's a good thing, though Project Management Professional (PMP) certification would be better.  I hope that whatever changes are afoot don't include an end to the tuition benefit plan that's allowed him to take courses over the past year.  It'd be nice to get that PMP under his belt.

Let's see...what else...

I submitted a devotional article to Associated Content, but haven't heard anything yet.  I really don't expect any upfront payment.  And if that proves to be the case, I can still publish for page-view payments, which have been equating to a medium coffee a month at WaWa.

Better than a sharp stick in the eye, I suppose.

I think that about covers it!  I guess I had more to say than I thought, eh?

I haven't been receiving email notifications for comments, private messages, etc.  This has been the case for a day or two, maybe longer.

Has this been happening to anyone else?

I sent a note to feedback, but it is the weekend, so...

Anyway, just wondering if anyone else was experiencing this.

Whatever this bug is, it will not let up!  My temp was back up to 101.6 this morning.  I really can't miss work today, so I took some ibuprofen and cough medicine.  I've managed to knock the temp down to 99.7, but I keep breaking out into cold sweats, which is really uncomfortable.

If I can make it through today, I can probably get most of my Friday work done too and then take the day to recuperate.  The bad thing is, Friday is The Daughter's prom!  Ack - what bad timing this all is.

I am guessing it is the flu, and I know I should be staying in bed and resting, but I really need to get through today.

If you are of the praying type, please send some up for me today.

What song, you might ask?

The sickies song!

Yes, indeed folks, here I am once again in bed with a fever, aches, headache, cough...Gah!

I went to work today anyway, torqued up on ibuprofen, because seriously, who wants to call out sick when they've only been working a little over a month at their new job?

And I didn't get to run this morning, which actually frustrated me now that I've been doing so for over two weeks.  But I don't think it would have gone well with a temp of 100.6.

I have contended that the daycare I was subbing at was making me sick this past winter.  It is located in the church's nursery.  They basically put all the pack-and-plays, etc. away for Sundays, and wipe everything down (at least they are supposed to).

Guess who had nursery duty this past Sunday?

Blech.  And now I am sick again.  Rob told me to tell them that I am no longer doing nursery. 

I also heard that one of the main infant room workers has mono, of all things!

So, I am using this time to *try* to get caught up on reading.  I scroll back to the last entry I read and start moving forward.  I've done this for several days now.  The problem is, I never seem to get past page 4.

Maybe this illness is the blogging gods way of telling me I need a Vox fix.

I don't think I mentioned that on Thursday I packed up the mail meter in the box they'd sent the replacement meter in, applied the UPS authorized return label, and by the grace of God, just happened to be walking the box to my car to take to a drop-off location when UPS pulled into the parking lot.  He took the return, and he also had a package for me - same size as the box I gave him.

Guess who it was from?

Only it felt absolutely empty.

Since it was already past my work hours, I just left it in my office to deal with the next day.  So, when I opened it on Friday, what do you suppose I found?

Styrofoam inserts, return labels, and a plastic bag.  So that I could return the meter.  The one I'd already returned.

You see, they sent all the paperwork and supplies to return the meter in the original box, which they overnighted to me via FedEx.

Then they shipped me an empty box through UPS so that I could return something they'd already instructed me to return with the necessary supplies in the original packaging.

I am sure they went to school for this kind of inefficiency.  And it was probably paid for by the government.

Now I really can't wait for my third replacement scale to get here.

And yes, I had a good laugh to start my day.

The first week on my own at the new job found me in need of weighing and metering some mail: two 8x12 envelopes with two sheets of paper, a pledge slip, and a box of offering envelopes within.  I weighed one and it came up as $1.65.  I remembered my predecessor mentioning that she always added some extra postage for large envelopes, so I upped them to $1.87.

I took several other pieces of mail to the post office that afternoon, and when I got there I noticed that the seal was coming off on the large envelopes.  I looked around for some packing tape, didn't find any (of course), and resigned myself to getting in line and waiting for the clerks to process several passport applications.

(Speaking of which, why don't they leave one clerk open to handle mail only instead of tying them all up with passport service, which takes at least 15 minutes per applicant.  Oh, I'm sorry - why would they?  It's only the freakin' POST OFFICE.)

When I finally made it to the front of the line, I explained my plight to the clerk.  "Let me just check the weight on this and see if there's enough postage," she said.

"Oh, I added $.22 extra cents on each one, just in case.  I am sure they are fine."

"Let me just check," she paused and read her scale, then replied, "This needs $.11 more.  It costs $1.98."

I hadn't even brought my purse in, so I couldn't mail them.  I took them back to work and reweighed them.  One came up as $1.65; the other $1.82.

Interesting.

I might be blond, but I immediately conjectured that there was a problem with the scale.  I called the meter company, who I will not mention by name, but rather by a (granted) slightly immature, but kind of clever pseudonym: Pit Butt, Inc.

The tech had me conduct a weight test, placing one #10 envelope at a time on the scale.  A #10 envelope weights .2 oz., therefore 10 should weigh 2 oz.  I did as asked, and at envelope #7 the scale registered 1.3.

Uh huh.

He had me unplug the scale and conduct the test again, with the same result.  I even added several more and at the 13th or 14th envelope, we lost .1 ounce again.

"We are going to send you a replacement scale."

A few days later, scale number two arrived.  I followed the set-up directions and started weighing envelopes.  And at envelope seven, the scale skipped .1 ounce again.

I called tech support again.  They made me do everything I'd already done to test it.  Again.

"Can you hold please?"

Five minutes later: "Thanks for holding.  We're going to send you a replacement scale.  When you get it, please call us before you set it up so we can walk you through the process."

Oh kay.  Sure.  I will humor you and feign helplessness so you can help me set up this technological wonder.

A few days later, scale three arrived.  I called Pit Butt, Inc.'s tech support so they could walk me through the process.  I was on hold for no less than twenty minutes listening to the "Your call is important to us" spiel before I actually spoke to a person.  He directed me to do exactly what I'd done with the last two scales, instructing me to let them know what envelope number and how much the scale registers.

Oh kay.

"Envelope 5: 1 oz.  Envelope 6: 1.2 oz.  Envelope seven: 1.3 oz."

At this point I started laughing.  Pretty hard.  The tech did not join me.

"Let me put you on hold, Ma'am."

Five minutes later: "Ma'am, I've spoken to my manager, and he authorized me to send you a replacement meter."

I am not sure how this will make a difference, but what do I know?  I can't even set up a simple postage scale on my own, right?

Fed Ex delivered the meter the next day.  I started the set-up process, only to be stymied trying to load the funds onto the new machine.  Another call to tech support was in order.  We were able to take care of that and he asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Well, the whole reason I have a new meter is because it's recording the wrong weight, so why don't we see if it's going to work correctly this time before I let you go?"

He agreed, and we began the "What Does 7 Envelopes Weigh in Pitt Butt, Inc.'s World" game.

Can you guess where this is going?

"Uh, Ma'am, we are going to have to send you a replacement scale."

Deep breath, Nicole.  Deep breath.

As calmly as possible, I said, "I appreciate what you are trying to do.  However, I've already been through three scales and two meters, and it still doesn't work.  There is obviously a problem with your product.  I am going to need to look into our lease terms.  A change to another company may be in order."

"Do you want us to send a replacement scale?"

If a thought bubble were drawn over my head at that very moment, it would have read:

Are you freakin' kidding me?!

"You know, I am going to wait on that.  Thanks, anyway."

I began to do my research and found a document that said that the church signed a 66 month lease agreement a year ago.  Why they signed a 66 month lease agreement is beyond me, but it is what it is.  However, when one signs a contract, there is a promise of a service and/or product.  And if the leasor is not providing the product or service at the level promised, the contract can be rendered null and void.  There's a bunch of legal jargon that explains this more succinctly, but you catch my drift.

So I called Pitt Butt, Inc.'s Sales Department today and explained that I am new to the church and needed the name of our sales rep.  "Your account is actually assigned to Internal Sales," I was told (Translation: "You are signed up on the lease-that-never-ends program so why would we assign you a sales rep, suckahs?"). 

"Is there something I can help you with," the salesperson inquired.

I explained the saga of the poorly functioning scale.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am.  I have to inform you, however, that your company is bound to a 66 month lease and you can not change machines without penalty."

"I understand what you are saying.  However, your company must also understand that since it is not providing this service at the level promised - and if it can not provide the service as promised - the contract is null and void."

She cautiously agreed with me and then told me she was going to transfer me to someone in the service department.  After yet another hold session, I am transferred to a tech.  I told him that he could check the notes to see the issues we have been having.  He put me on hold.  When he came back, he said:

"Ma'am, I spoke with my supervisor, and we are authorized to send you a replacement scale."

Really!?  You mean it!  A new scale!!!

Another deep breath, Nicole...

"I am sorry, but what makes you think that scale number 4 is going to work?" I asked.

"That is all that we can do, Ma'am."

"Are you sending it from somewhere else?"

"They all come from the same place, Ma'am."

"At what point will you realize there is a problem with your product?", I asked.

"Do you want us to send you a replacement scale?"

(Translation: "Ma'am, we really don't give a damn.  But thank you for calling Minions of Satan - I mean, Pitt Butt, Inc.'s Customer Service.")

"I am going to have to get back with you on that one," I finally said.

I talked with the pastor about our rights.  He knows this is messed up, but he doesn't want to launch into a legal battle either.  I am ready to charge that hell with a squirt gun! 

"Just keep sending back the scales.  If they want to waste the money to send faulty ones and pay for us to send them back, that's their problem," he declared.

So I had to call Minions, I mean, Pitt Butt back and request scale number #4.

If you are a betting man or woman, the odds are great that this scale will be screwed up too.

I'll keep you posted.  Let the wagering begin.

As for me, I've decided that each scale I go through is going to be the perfect opportunity for a good, side-splitting belly laugh.

I really do love my new job.  Despite the bulk mailings.  And mail meters that don't work (I'll perhaps explain that another time).

But it is seriously cutting into my blogging time!

I miss writing.  It is a creative outlet I have to find a way to incorporate into my weekly (and better yet, daily) life.

I could cut out making dinner, but something tells me the family will revolt.

It's Science Fair project time, and as most parents well know, these are parent projects, not student projects.

Forgive my absence over the next 4-5 days as I slave over we work on those, which are due on Monday, bright and early.

We also have company coming tomorrow night, and my house is a mess.  Though it is my best friend and she truly does not care, I DO.  So, I have to find time to clean between answering questions scientically and formatting display boards.

Gah.

On the bright side, my boss took me to a luncheon today celebrating "Administrative Professionals Day".  The district hosted it.  It started with a worship service, which I really enjoyed.  Very different from what I am used to, but quite similar to what I grew up with, so I found great comfort in it.  I am still processing how much it moved me.

Anyway, I'll read/comment as I can this weekend.

I know I haven't said much about the new job, save my little story about meeting Clyde*.  Suffice to say (and due to lack of time this morning) that I am really, really liking it so far.  Nay, loving it.  So much so that I hate to even say that for fear that I am going to jinx it or some such nonsense.

Today is my first day on my own.  My predecessor was going to stay through the week, but she'd already shown me everything, plus composed a nice manual for me outlining all of the responsibilities.  So, she spoke with the pastor and that was that!

I am a little nervous, but I don't think it will be difficult to finish up the weekly responsibilities, which for the most part is the bulletins and loading the song slides onto the sanctuary computer.  They run a few weeks ahead, so most of this was completed already.

Everyone I have met so far has been just lovely.  I've received at least one hug a day from a church member.

I did catch a guy who came to the food bank yesterday trying to advertise a scam concerning the economic stimulus checks.  He asked to hang a sign and my predecessor said sure.  As soon as he left with his groceries (another reason my guard was up concerning his inquiry), I took a look at the sign.  Basically it said that you have to file to get the check - which is totally false.  You do have to file your tax return for this year, but that is all.  I am guessing that after taking folks' money (to the tune of $300 or more dollars as his fee), he might just make off with their identities too.  I am going to see if I can find his name on the roster (first and last) so that this can be reported.

I hate to see things like this.  As much of a blessing as a food closet is to so many, it also attracts jerks like that.  So sad.

Off to my lovely new job - have a great day, everyone!

*Not his real name.

“Nicole, this is Clyde*.”

A man, many years young, shuffled into the church office, arm outstretched.  His handshake was firm and confident.  He wore a red and black ball cap and crisp khakis; brown and tan Nikes (in that cross between topsider and tennis shoe style that has become so popular) graced his feet.

He greeted me warmly as the soon-to-retire administrative assistant introduced me as her replacement.

“Clyde is one of the gentlemen who comes in on Tuesdays to fill the bags for our food closet distribution on Wednesdays,” she said.

Clyde shrugged off her praise and quickly redirected the spotlight.  “We sure will miss you,” he replied wistfully, then turned with a smile to me and remarked, “But I am sure you will do just fine!”

He strolled out of the office and toward the hall where other church members were setting up the farewell luncheon.  My predecessor looked at me with a grin and said, “Would you believe Clyde is ninety-four?”

Ninety-four!?

Ninety-four with twinkling eyes, a ready smile, and sincere questions (“Are you a native of our state, Nicole?” he asked with kind curiosity, then tilted his head and listened as if I was the only person in the room).  

Ninety-four and arriving at his church every Tuesday to fill grocery bags with food (someone has taken that “feed the poor” thing as more than a mere suggestion).

Ninety-four meaning he was born in 1913 or 14 (Woodrow Wilson was president!); we tried to look it up in the membership file, but he’s never given a definitive birth date.  He’s lived through the Depression, two world wars and a few others he probably would rather not recall, the advent of the Nuclear age, and the introduction of the Internet (to name just a few).  He's lived almost a century - a century! - imagine that.

And after almost a century, he hasn't stopped.  Still living life to its fullest ("Wait till you hear he and his buddy's conversations on Tuesdays", I've been told) and even more amazing: still serving others.  

Every week, Clyde pulls on his Nikes, drives to his church, and serves.

What excuse do I have?

*Not his real name