Oy.
Sometimes, people just have the worst timing. It makes me laugh.
Today, around 11:30-noon, I was scarfing down a falafel sandwich at my desk -- busybusybusy, papers everywhere, half a dozen projects in motion. No time to take actual lunch break. People kept leaving me things that did NOT go in my inbox, either because they were too big or because they were ZOMGsoimportant!!eleventy1! and must be left at my elbow OR ELSE.
In walk two women. My desk adjoins the doorframe; I get little to no prep time when people arrive. My mouth is full. I swallow.
"Hello." [This is where I usually smile, but I KNOW I have parsley stuck in my teeth. Tabbouleh, you know.]
They smile and look like they're going to say something, so I DON'T follow up with "Welcome to $COMPANY!"
They introduce themselves. As members of $STAFFINGAGENCY. Yes, the same one that has me on its payroll. Crap.
1. I should have recognized them. I'd met them both once a few months ago for 2 minutes.
2. That was a lousy greeting.
3. Hello, eating at my desk? Mouth full? Of yogurt, garbanzo beans, and parsley? That's 3 strikes right there. Plus all the paper and CRAP that (mostly) makes sense to me, but looks a right mess.
4. The shirt I was wearing today: totally too casual for a weekday. My hair: frizzy and somewhat flyaway. My makeup: possibly garish lipstick and too much undereye concealer. Not spiffy and professional like I presented myself to $STAFFINGAGENCY.
We continue.
Is $HRDIRECTOR in?
Yes-- uh, no. She just left, actually.
Oh. I don't suppose $VICEPRESIDENT is free.
Well, I'd be happy to check.
[Pause for mail carrier to enter and frown at package waiting for him.]
Garbled English that means (I can't take that).
No? I was told I'd pay you in cash... [reaches for fiver left in plain view on the desk]
(No, no, you have to go to the post office. It's only a block away.)
I know; *I* would have gone this morning, but I was told you'd pick it up.
(No, sorry.)
Okay. No problem. Have a nice day. Sorry, ladies. I'll go see if $VICEPRESIDENT has a moment. [smilesmileSMILE. Remember parsley. Die inside.]
AAAAAAAArrrrrggggh. The WORST impression, especially considering I had JUST emailed one of these women to mention an issue that had been brought up about my potential permanent hire at this company. They want a licensed driver for the errands that come up every now and then. As an employee of $STAFFINGAGENCY, I can't drive. It's an insurance issue. Apart from that -- I DON'T drive. It hadn't come to the CEO's attention until today, even though I'd brought it up with both the former office manager and the marketing director, and it hadn't been a problem. The CEO was not pleased. This may be a barrier to hiring me permanently. Fuck. Perhaps they'll settle for "I'll get it in the next 6 months." But then do they want me driving the CEO's car? (This was today's plan for the last-minute errand.)
FUCK. I don't do well with deadlines. (Not true. I just prefer to create my own. And this is a touchy thing.)
Anyway. That was long. I need to sleep now. I have hiccups. Blecch.
Today, around 11:30-noon, I was scarfing down a falafel sandwich at my desk -- busybusybusy, papers everywhere, half a dozen projects in motion. No time to take actual lunch break. People kept leaving me things that did NOT go in my inbox, either because they were too big or because they were ZOMGsoimportant!!eleventy1! and must be left at my elbow OR ELSE.
In walk two women. My desk adjoins the doorframe; I get little to no prep time when people arrive. My mouth is full. I swallow.
"Hello." [This is where I usually smile, but I KNOW I have parsley stuck in my teeth. Tabbouleh, you know.]
They smile and look like they're going to say something, so I DON'T follow up with "Welcome to $COMPANY!"
They introduce themselves. As members of $STAFFINGAGENCY. Yes, the same one that has me on its payroll. Crap.
1. I should have recognized them. I'd met them both once a few months ago for 2 minutes.
2. That was a lousy greeting.
3. Hello, eating at my desk? Mouth full? Of yogurt, garbanzo beans, and parsley? That's 3 strikes right there. Plus all the paper and CRAP that (mostly) makes sense to me, but looks a right mess.
4. The shirt I was wearing today: totally too casual for a weekday. My hair: frizzy and somewhat flyaway. My makeup: possibly garish lipstick and too much undereye concealer. Not spiffy and professional like I presented myself to $STAFFINGAGENCY.
We continue.
Is $HRDIRECTOR in?
Yes-- uh, no. She just left, actually.
Oh. I don't suppose $VICEPRESIDENT is free.
Well, I'd be happy to check.
[Pause for mail carrier to enter and frown at package waiting for him.]
Garbled English that means (I can't take that).
No? I was told I'd pay you in cash... [reaches for fiver left in plain view on the desk]
(No, no, you have to go to the post office. It's only a block away.)
I know; *I* would have gone this morning, but I was told you'd pick it up.
(No, sorry.)
Okay. No problem. Have a nice day. Sorry, ladies. I'll go see if $VICEPRESIDENT has a moment. [smilesmileSMILE. Remember parsley. Die inside.]
AAAAAAAArrrrrggggh. The WORST impression, especially considering I had JUST emailed one of these women to mention an issue that had been brought up about my potential permanent hire at this company. They want a licensed driver for the errands that come up every now and then. As an employee of $STAFFINGAGENCY, I can't drive. It's an insurance issue. Apart from that -- I DON'T drive. It hadn't come to the CEO's attention until today, even though I'd brought it up with both the former office manager and the marketing director, and it hadn't been a problem. The CEO was not pleased. This may be a barrier to hiring me permanently. Fuck. Perhaps they'll settle for "I'll get it in the next 6 months." But then do they want me driving the CEO's car? (This was today's plan for the last-minute errand.)
FUCK. I don't do well with deadlines. (Not true. I just prefer to create my own. And this is a touchy thing.)
Anyway. That was long. I need to sleep now. I have hiccups. Blecch.