not a turtle

at the lye-berry

In four weeks' time, I will start work here¹.

No longer will I spend my days lamenting my work-day contribution to the ruination of society. There will be no more attempts to defend the highly offensive (and completely indefensible) practices of my manager and the HR department of the immeasurably odious corporation by which I am currently employed.

Also, this means a great (and severely clichéd) weight has lifted from my shoulders.

Blogposts will be forthcoming. Often.

      1. No, I am not now, nor will I ever be, a librarian.

            

without further adieu

In preparation for a possible plunge into the job market once again, allow me to present to you a set of rules I have established for Recruitment Consultants and HR Managers everywhere. Some guidelines for those special little petals that preside over the unnecessarily complicated interview process.

Before I launch into them, for those of you who've never had the pleasure of dealing with recruitment consultants, let me share with you something it took me all of seven minutes to figure out when, at eighteen, I had my first interview at a temp agency. A recruitment consultant is something receptionists named Kelly-Ann become after deciding that photocopying, occasional filing and forwarding chain emails is no longer as fulfilling as it might have seemed. Sadly, receptionists like Kelly-Ann often lack the basic interpersonal and literacy skills one might expect of someone who, on the surface, looks as though they may possess some degree of intelligence.

Don't believe me? Allow me to offer evidence. First, there's this. And then...

Are you receptionist, administration, secretary, waitress,? Would you like to earn upwards of $30,000 per hour? Well have I got a job for you:

...or if you're carrently look on a job in customer service:

...or perhaps you're simply looking to dance while your career provides a catchy yet inoffensive soundtrack:

...and if none of that appeals, maybe you've just been waiting for that perfect job to walk up to you in the street and announce itself abruptly:

That's right kids, all of these very special job ads were written by the Kelly-Anns of the world. They're the ones who decide whether or not you're right for a job they aren't qualified to do, at a company whose name they can't spell.

Without further adieu, as my current manager likes to say, here are the rules:

1. Do not keep talking about how fantastic a job is after I have told you it doesn't pay enough for me to be able to eat and I have no interest in it.

2. Do not attempt to convince me that an outbound sales role would be perfect for me. It is not my fault you have positions to fill yet lack the actual skills to do so.

3. Read my resumé BEFORE you call me.

4. Use the spellcheck function once you've finished writing a job ad.

5. Do not use exclamation marks in a job ad.

6. Do not use mixed metaphors in a job ad.

7. See the shift key on your keyboard? If you hold it down, it will give you capital letters. They come at the beginning of sentences and names.

8. When writing a job ad, use question marks at the end of questions, and full stops at the end of statements, not the other way around.

9. Do not advertise a job with the headline "MONEY! MONEY! MONEY!" if the job pays AU$29k.

10. Do not comment on how much my name sounds like Byron Bay. It's not funny, cute or interesting. I could tell you how much your name (Siobhan) sounds like the noise my dog makes after she eats grass, but that would just be rude.

the joys of the workplace - part two

Yesterday I spent three hours cutting out, laminating and again cutting out roughly eighty little pieces of paper for a training exercise.

This morning when I arrived at work, all the little laminated pieces of paper had disappeared from my desk.

Five minutes ago, I discovered the remains of my handiwork in the bottom of a bin. They had been cut into tiny pieces and coffee poured all over them.

After surveying my colleagues and assessing their responses, I’m now 99% certain it was the National Training Manager who so viciously drowned and dismembered my training cards. How do I know this? Well, when asked if she knew how they might have met their end in the bottom of a black plastic garbage bag, she responded “Oh By-RONNN, they were a stupid idea. I don’t know how they got in the bin, but it’s probably the best place for them.”

Maybe I missed the part on induction day about using scissors, caffeinated beverages and trash receptacles to communicate in preference to actual words.

Also, the IT guy is sitting at his desk (which faces the entire office) watching a Girls Gone Wild! DVD with an enormous pair of headphones on.

the joys of the workplace

What do you do when the goings on in your workplace have made you so unbelievably frustrated, confused and angry that your head is quite literally in an exorcist-like spin and there is not a single like-minded person in your department or even the building?

I think the answer might be that you leave. I don’t know. I’m just throwing it out there to see what it sounds like.

If I were to leave, my next job would be the eighth I’ve had this year. Also, if I were to leave it would mean dealing with recruitment consultants again, which is roughly three times as painful as giving birth to a toddler while being drawn and quartered.

Why am I so riled up, you might wonder?

So far this morning, my colleagues have:

• Reduced an 18 year old girl to hysterical tears over a twelve second phone call about which she was right and the customer was wrong.
• After discovering that a middle aged male staff member had been googling (during his breaks) "depression", "anxiety" and "what to do if you're lonely", disciplined him for violating the internet policy, thereby humiliating and upsetting him to the point where he hid in the bathroom for twenty minutes. About an hour after he returned, my ever so sensitive colleague then gave him "feedback" about how badly he had been working, threatening him with written warnings. Unsurprisingly, he threw his phone on at the wall, narrowly missing her and walked out.
• Displaced me from my desk, unceremoniously dumping everything that had been on my desk and in my drawers into the top of an enormous filing cabinet before I got to work, and announced to me when I arrived that I would "just have to find a desk wherever I could". Why, you might ask? Because someone from the another office will be working in this building for THREE days, and she couldn't possibly "find a desk wherever she could" for her TEMPORARY STINT IN HELL.
• Also, I've been counting the Krispy Kreme doughnuts my boss is eating. She's up to nine.

So I emailed the above to my friends, and the lovely Audrey responded thusly:

"It's like The Place That Sends You Mad in The Twelve Tasks of Asterix. I dare you to go and ask your boss if she can direct you to Permit A-39."

...and I thought well, it's not that bad.

...and then somebody handed me a new training manual, the bottom corner of which I have reproduced for you here.

Did I mention that this is the best job I've had all year?

my fear. let me show you it.

A small, squinty and unattractive woman from The Other Side Of The Office (also known as the land of the telemarketers) just asked me a question that began thusly:

"You look like a sexual person. What do you think of..."

I didn't hear the rest of the question. I ran away and pretended I was photocopying my hand.

who says you can't have fun at work...

In case you don't know or have forgotten, I work for a major bank in their general enquiries call centre. This means I get to spend my days primarily answering one question (phrased differently each time, but essentially the same): "Youse've taken me fucken money. I had fifty bucks in me account and now there's nuffing! Youse've taken fucken bank fees again! Where's me fucken money?"

The answer to the question is almost always the same. "You had a direct debit come out of your account for X. It looks like you've organised for X to take money out of your account once a month. The same amount has come out on the same day every month since September 2004. If you wish to cancel it I suggest you contact X, as you have authorised them to take the funds out. The bank has nothing to do with the transaction. We simply facilitate it."

To which the response is always "Oh."

If bogans weren't allowed to call the bank, we'd sit there waiting for calls all day instead of answering them.

Occasionally, though, I do get to have fun.
There is a man who calls the bank every single day. I assume he is mentally ill*, and most of the time he seems to be drunk* as well. He is unbelievably entertaining. Every time a customer calls, the person speaking to them is supposed to leave a note on that customer's profile. We call them "Interactions". Here is a selection of the finest interactions from Mr Deranged's profile, the first of which was written by me on friday morning:

Xxxxxx (XX) XXXX XXXX - Xxxxx called with what I believe may have been a request to change the interest crediting account for his term deposit. Most of what he said was unintelligible and I was unable to action any request. Xxxxx has asked me note that he plans take out a loan to purchase several television celebrities and media personalities, mentioning Jennifer Hawkins (again) and Catriona Rowntree specifically. When I suggested to Xxxxx that it would not be possible for us to finance a loan for the purchase of human beings, he advised that he would perform an indecent sexual act on several members of staff at the Xxxxx Xxx branch. Xxxxx disconnected the call.

xXXXXX Cust repeatedly calls during the night, and is unintelligable most of the time. Cust is probably deranged and is in need of psychiatric help!!

xXXXXX customer called and was rambling - he said that he wanted to purchase Diane Klein.
he rambled for a while and eventually said goodbye and disconnected the call

XXXXX Xxxxxx called regarding purchase of women. escalated to security as 4th time i have spoken to Xx Xxxx recently.

XX XXXXXXXX - Customer called, ID by manual process. Customer rambled about some Asian doll and wanting to buy it. Then terminated call.

(XX) XXXX XXXX - XXXXXXX. Client called. 3 mins of incoherent rambling about wishing to purchase Jennifer Hawkins, client disconnected call.

XXXXXXXXXX - SERVICE Customer made no sense at all wanted to purchase 2 girls Jenny and Wendy. Rambled and then hung up

XX XXXX XXXX Service: Customer called making non bank enquiry, talking about the house of the rising sun in New Orleans before terminating call.

XXXXXXXXXX - Xxxxxx claims the bank has agreed to give him a "field of strawberries". I asked Xx Xxxxx if he was referring to a home loan for the purchase of a property. He repeatedly yelled that he did not have his "field of strawberries" and only had "sweetie mushrooms". I terminated the call as I don't think the customer is sane.

XXXXXXXX client was very hard to hear, he wanted to construct a mental hospital, 5 story units and a medical hospital when i asked client if he would like to take out the loan him self he said that he wanted the bank to build it for him…

Xxxxxxx (XX) XXXX XXXX - Xx Xxxxx has advised he wants to apply for a loan to purchase Maybelline. I did not think the customer was being serious as he said he wanted to open makeup stores on Mars and Neptune. Call transferred to supervisor.

XXXXXXXX Client called wanting to apply for a business loan to open 500 Chinese Restaurants, advised client that he will need to organise an appointment at his local branch to borrow money for a business, worked out to be approx $500,000,000. Client did not want to be contacted by the branch and wanted me to do the application on the phone, once again advised that he need to go to a branch, offered to get someone from his local branch to call, client said no and ended call.

*Please note: I do not find mental illness or alcoholism amusing in the slightest. This post is not intended to offend anyone. I find this particular person's insane rambling endlessly amusing. Yes, he probably needs help and is most likely getting it.