Good Morning, Carat
Hello there.
Thought it would be a good time to update as I am CRAZY OUT OF MY MIND BORED here at my current "job," temping at a media/marketing agency in the John Hancock building. (see photo)
The John Hancock building is HUGE. The first day I came here I had a terrible trouble getting to the proper floor and ended up getting stuck in the elevator. They divide the elevators into sections based on whether you're going to an even-numbered floor or an odd-numbered floor. I was unaware of this fact and got into an even-numbered elevator while trying to get to the 23rd floor. To my dismay the elevator kept zooming up to the 24th floor then zooming all the way back down again. I began to sweat in my heavy winter coat. I began to experience the very real fear that I might never get out of the elevator. It was only after getting off at the lobby (after a few trips up and down) and running after one of the zillions of blank-faced commuters en-route to his elevator and demanding frantically where the odd-numbered elevators were, that I managed to figure out where I was going. Actually, there was another delay as I puzzled how to get back to the level where the other elevators were, as I had gone up an escalator to reach my initial elevator. There were only up-escalators in sight. It took me another frantic two minutes to find a flight of NORMAL STAIRS.
Anyway, it's a big building. And for the month of February, I am being paid by a temp agency to sit at the front desk and answer the phone. It is pretty much the easiest "job" I've ever had. The phone only rings every 15-25 minutes. I have to say, "Good Morning, Carat" and then transfer them to whoever it is they want. About 30% of the calls are from automated telemarketers. The only mildly annoying aspect is that some of the people who call in think my name is Cara, because that's how it's pronounced. My thinking is, why would the receptionist of a company answer the phone without saying the name of the company? I don't get it. And don't the people calling know that's the name of the company? It just happens more often than you'd think. It seems always to be the smarmy ones though. "Hi, Caraa," they'll croon in an overly affected, concerned way, "How are youu?"
Needless to say I have a lot of time to kill sitting at this desk. It's quite a shock to the system after working at Starbucks for six months. I now can't decide which is worse, being on your feet all day sweeping and wiping tables, or sitting in the same chair all day in a room with a tv always turned to CNN staring at a computer screen. I have to say I'm glad I didn't go right into temp jobs in offices. I'm glad I slaved for a few months at Starbucks, because being paid to sit at a computer and do nothing seemed like the gift of kings for the first few days. Whereas now, it's starting to get to me.
But it isn't so bad. I am getting paid. My goodness! Look at the time! I must now dash and fill the dishwasher! And turn off that blasted CNN! I'm sure you'll be hearing much more from me in the coming weeks!
Until then!
Thought it would be a good time to update as I am CRAZY OUT OF MY MIND BORED here at my current "job," temping at a media/marketing agency in the John Hancock building. (see photo)
The John Hancock building is HUGE. The first day I came here I had a terrible trouble getting to the proper floor and ended up getting stuck in the elevator. They divide the elevators into sections based on whether you're going to an even-numbered floor or an odd-numbered floor. I was unaware of this fact and got into an even-numbered elevator while trying to get to the 23rd floor. To my dismay the elevator kept zooming up to the 24th floor then zooming all the way back down again. I began to sweat in my heavy winter coat. I began to experience the very real fear that I might never get out of the elevator. It was only after getting off at the lobby (after a few trips up and down) and running after one of the zillions of blank-faced commuters en-route to his elevator and demanding frantically where the odd-numbered elevators were, that I managed to figure out where I was going. Actually, there was another delay as I puzzled how to get back to the level where the other elevators were, as I had gone up an escalator to reach my initial elevator. There were only up-escalators in sight. It took me another frantic two minutes to find a flight of NORMAL STAIRS.
Anyway, it's a big building. And for the month of February, I am being paid by a temp agency to sit at the front desk and answer the phone. It is pretty much the easiest "job" I've ever had. The phone only rings every 15-25 minutes. I have to say, "Good Morning, Carat" and then transfer them to whoever it is they want. About 30% of the calls are from automated telemarketers. The only mildly annoying aspect is that some of the people who call in think my name is Cara, because that's how it's pronounced. My thinking is, why would the receptionist of a company answer the phone without saying the name of the company? I don't get it. And don't the people calling know that's the name of the company? It just happens more often than you'd think. It seems always to be the smarmy ones though. "Hi, Caraa," they'll croon in an overly affected, concerned way, "How are youu?"
Needless to say I have a lot of time to kill sitting at this desk. It's quite a shock to the system after working at Starbucks for six months. I now can't decide which is worse, being on your feet all day sweeping and wiping tables, or sitting in the same chair all day in a room with a tv always turned to CNN staring at a computer screen. I have to say I'm glad I didn't go right into temp jobs in offices. I'm glad I slaved for a few months at Starbucks, because being paid to sit at a computer and do nothing seemed like the gift of kings for the first few days. Whereas now, it's starting to get to me.
But it isn't so bad. I am getting paid. My goodness! Look at the time! I must now dash and fill the dishwasher! And turn off that blasted CNN! I'm sure you'll be hearing much more from me in the coming weeks!
Until then!