22 June 2010

A Day in the LIFE OF HELL: or, the Pope gets less phone calls than me

8:33 Roll on out the door. God, it's humid. Like, so humid the slugs are still out from last night. There is one STICKING ON the door. Little bastard.
9:20 Stuck in traffic. Why? Apparently, today is a good day to unleash three vanloads of society's dregs in the form of community service monkeys. This is enough to completely stop traffic while these jackasses pick up pieces of paper from the highway. Thanks for stopping this productive member of society from getting to work on time.
9:33 Roll on in to work. Try to get into the building. Have 30 seconds to put in security code. Keypad isn't allowing my numbers to be put in. No beeping noises.
9:33.30 Aaaaaaaaaaaand, the alarm goes off. Lights are flashings. Alarm is blaring. Sirens are whirring. Hrm, now I know what those community service paper pickers feel like, except, you know, without the life of crime part.
9:40 Scramble with multiple phone calls to mulitple people. Hold hope that I might get to talk to a hot cop and get a free donut.
9:46 Alarm is off. No hot cops. No free donuts. Goddammit.
10:07 Miss America strolls in late. She comes up with some insane story that her husband's ex was stalking her and tried to run her over with her car. Ummmmmm. I don't care. You're late. You're in write-up territory. Great. One more fucking thing I need to do.
10:22 Woman approaches the desk, all huffy because computers are down for an upgrade. Yes, because I personally picked this time for an upgrade to make your life difficult. She wants to know why HUD doesn't have specific regulations for sexual harrassment of senior citizens. I DON'T KNOW! I didn't write the regulations. So, I went on to HUD's website like a good reference librarian monkey for her and got her HUD guidelines and printed them for her and she made THE FACE. I'm assuming the face was because this didn't have the exact piece of information she wanted in the 8 page brochure. I'm also assuming that the face was a result of my not being able to find seniors and sexual harrassment all rolled into one and because I just didn't look like I was sympathizing with her plight because I had two phone calls and another person waiting to ask me a question. I'm busy. I'm not mean. I'm busy. I worked 12 hours yesterday and almost had a nervous breakdown. I'm tired and bitchy and don't fucking CARE and if if was up to me, I'd be drinking vodka for breakfast, so take your fucking PAMPHLET and get the fuck out of my face.
10:49 My nice, great staff person approaches me to tell me I have a phone call. When don't I have a phone call? I think the Pope gets less phone calls. I need a publicist. Nonetheless, another call comes in, so I run to another desk to grab this call and find that this is a lady who needs to do community service for godonlyknowswhatshedid and wants to do it here. The really funny thing is that she goes into this long story about how she's been trying to get in touch with me and that she needs to do 20 hours by the end of the month. Luckily, I have been trained in dealing with epic loads of bullshit for the past 5 years so I didn't laugh in her face. Sure, I'll take someone that needs to do community service and let you into a library and have free reign with kids and money and materials and everything. Suuuuuuuure. I nicely turned her down, telling her I had too many things going on. She asked about July. I wasn't about to tell her I have a two week vacation coming up and that I'd rather burn in hell than let her loose in a library without my supervision, so I told her to just try another system. She said she did and they also said no. Lady, get the hint.

Stay tuned for more adventures. I've been here 1.5 hours and I already want a drink.

2 comments:

  1. We get lots of community service "volunteers" at the library. Our policy is that before you get to spend time doing the cushy jobs like stamping discarded books or straightening shelves, you must scrub both bathrooms. This usually sends them right back out the door and makes my life much easier.

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  2. One of my former coworkers kept a stocked mini-bar in her car for lunchtime "help" for those special days.

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