Using all caps for good reason, I might add
The orientation to my new job takes four weeks. FOUR WEEKS! I know NASA programmers who have shorter orientations than this. Furthermore, I get to sit through ten hours of training to use a program I already know, own, and use often. And here's the kicker: Today one of my many, many supervisors sat me down for two and a half hours and READ THE STUPID STAFF MANUAL OUT LOUD TO ME, IN A TONE NOT UNLIKE THAT WHICH YOU SENSE WHEN YOU READ IN ALL CAPS. I wanted to die by the end of the day. Or shoot her. Really--I promise I can read. I am, after all, a copy editor, and I'm pretty damn sure that illiteracy isn't something I can get away with here.
*ahem*
Dear work people:
I am not stupid. I'm sorry I give you that impression. Please, please just give me some work to do. You're wasting my time and your money with these ridiculous sessions--I can already use MS Outlook (yeah, really hard, that one) and no, you don't need to sit me down to explain how the voicemail system works--written directions can be followed just fine; and you don't need to walk me out to the parking lot and show me where I can and cannot park (if it says "reserved" or "disabled" or "visitor," I can take the hint). And you know what else? I can work a computer. Indeed. But thanks. Anyway.
-A.
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A note on the workforce: At my office, the people seem to be generally nice and there's just a small amount of interoffice politics and bitching. At least that's my first two days impression. But there is another phenomenon that annoys the befreakingcrap out of me: Gossip. I noticed it when I came in for an interview; I notice it every day. Gossip is an incredible time waster, and a lot of us are (or, in my case, will be) on the clock for clients. Furthermore, one of my supervisors spent most of her morning composing a little ditty to tell us about our "duties" to bring food for the Christmas party, though it was cleverly done in iambic pentameter with ABAB rhyme. I, on the other hand, read the manual, go to training sessions, and do anything but waste my time.
I'm of the opinion that I could probably work from 10 until 4, with a lunch hour, and get the same amount of work done that they do. People like me should be salaried; if I'm going to work for my hourly pittance, I'll turn into one of them.
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Alas. I can never be completely happy. Even having a job gives me something to bitch about. (Though I must say I prefer bitching about *having* a job than not having one.)
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GEE, I HOPE I CAN READ THE MANUAL FOR MYSELF TOMORROW.
grrr.