4408: Broken-Karted
I feel like I'm trying to race for the galaxyfinish line [to... somewhere] with half a car a la The Green Hornet [DUBIOUSLY plausible], just because my job is still largely backseat HR assisting... I swear Miss Priss is dyslexic with tunnel vision--a directory sorted ALPHABETICALLY is like a Where's Waldo? page to her -_-;;...
I honestly don't want to volunteer to take her place for a number of reasons [including that clearance is a pain to get and not an honour to have, and Fusso is fussing about wanting a receptionist with clearance] but also because the amount of enabling she/we do would only encourage people to dump MORE on her/us if I were the one taking the driver's seat and actually Getting Shit Done. Also, it feels presumptuous to say, "Look, I'm competent--can I have her job?"
I say this in the nicest way--95% of this job is really out of her capabilities. Spelling a simple, non-foreign thing like "Adams" becomes a five-minute exercise in explaining how to fix "admas" [I am NOT EXAGGERATING]. The number of typos in any given message--even dictated--are so many and so ridiculous that I end up telling her to correct only the ones that make the message significantly harder to understand ,and I let leave ridicoulus butnot completely horible ones.alone
The major dissonance, which I have no idea if anyone picks up on, is that anyone can tell if Falco or I ghostwrite for her, just from the illegibility of the message. Falco has her share of typos, sure, but nowhere NEAR Miss Priss's count [and I'm otherwise a grammar Nazi unless I'm backseating it, when stuff will inevitably slip through the cracks just because I can only stand having her correct about 75% of what I see wrong].
Granted, what takes "us" ALL FUCKING DAY to do, I can easily do in an hour with the correct permissions [a few of which she has and I don't]. And I'll be damned if I don't want more proof of my usefulness, particularly when the vulture that is my temp agent came in today to drop off a fabulous gift [of a reusable grocery bag branded with the agency's logo] for my boss and asked if I was willing to extend [if the subject came up [which it hasn't, as overextended as Falco is [or I might really have at it about a raise or I walk [which is a bluff at this point, 'cause walking would still be shooting myself in the foot [unless I was DESPERATE to go back to Target [and at least get FUCKING MEDICAL INSURANCE]]]]]].
But... Falco is at least superficially aware of this. I explained how ridiculously long it takes her to type, and the typing test that EVERYONE IN THE WORLD wants Miss Priss to take [even Miss Priss] isn't manifesting, so...? ¬_¬; I really dislike that I've barely touched any of the papers I'm supposed to be scanning--last week I barely managed to scan the twenty docs I've had sitting on my desk for that entire week+, for instance, when I could usually finish almost 100/day uninterrupted[!]--but what am I going to do? One task for today could have been done in about five minutes, but after every time the phone rang or somebody came to ask for something, Miss Priss would come back to, "Okay, where were we?" and resume staring blankly and flipping through pages for at a thing I said was effectively done, nothing else we could do on it until So-and-So got back. Or staring at her Inbox and picking randomly through e-mails and trying to remember what to do with each before--EVENTUALLY--deciding to do it later or to delete it [the latter often something important, but that's okay because she NEVER empties her Recycle Bin].
Also, her computer is ancient. Not helpful >_<
...
So, still getting paid to sit. Just wish it was more, 'cause I won't be able to afford my share of rent when we finally move, otherwise -_-...
I honestly don't want to volunteer to take her place for a number of reasons [including that clearance is a pain to get and not an honour to have, and Fusso is fussing about wanting a receptionist with clearance] but also because the amount of enabling she/we do would only encourage people to dump MORE on her/us if I were the one taking the driver's seat and actually Getting Shit Done. Also, it feels presumptuous to say, "Look, I'm competent--can I have her job?"
I say this in the nicest way--95% of this job is really out of her capabilities. Spelling a simple, non-foreign thing like "Adams" becomes a five-minute exercise in explaining how to fix "admas" [I am NOT EXAGGERATING]. The number of typos in any given message--even dictated--are so many and so ridiculous that I end up telling her to correct only the ones that make the message significantly harder to understand ,and I let leave ridicoulus butnot completely horible ones.alone
The major dissonance, which I have no idea if anyone picks up on, is that anyone can tell if Falco or I ghostwrite for her, just from the illegibility of the message. Falco has her share of typos, sure, but nowhere NEAR Miss Priss's count [and I'm otherwise a grammar Nazi unless I'm backseating it, when stuff will inevitably slip through the cracks just because I can only stand having her correct about 75% of what I see wrong].
Granted, what takes "us" ALL FUCKING DAY to do, I can easily do in an hour with the correct permissions [a few of which she has and I don't]. And I'll be damned if I don't want more proof of my usefulness, particularly when the vulture that is my temp agent came in today to drop off a fabulous gift [of a reusable grocery bag branded with the agency's logo] for my boss and asked if I was willing to extend [if the subject came up [which it hasn't, as overextended as Falco is [or I might really have at it about a raise or I walk [which is a bluff at this point, 'cause walking would still be shooting myself in the foot [unless I was DESPERATE to go back to Target [and at least get FUCKING MEDICAL INSURANCE]]]]]].
But... Falco is at least superficially aware of this. I explained how ridiculously long it takes her to type, and the typing test that EVERYONE IN THE WORLD wants Miss Priss to take [even Miss Priss] isn't manifesting, so...? ¬_¬; I really dislike that I've barely touched any of the papers I'm supposed to be scanning--last week I barely managed to scan the twenty docs I've had sitting on my desk for that entire week+, for instance, when I could usually finish almost 100/day uninterrupted[!]--but what am I going to do? One task for today could have been done in about five minutes, but after every time the phone rang or somebody came to ask for something, Miss Priss would come back to, "Okay, where were we?" and resume staring blankly and flipping through pages for at a thing I said was effectively done, nothing else we could do on it until So-and-So got back. Or staring at her Inbox and picking randomly through e-mails and trying to remember what to do with each before--EVENTUALLY--deciding to do it later or to delete it [the latter often something important, but that's okay because she NEVER empties her Recycle Bin].
Also, her computer is ancient. Not helpful >_<
...
So, still getting paid to sit. Just wish it was more, 'cause I won't be able to afford my share of rent when we finally move, otherwise -_-...