The Myth of Sisyphus

The title is a link to a post on Notes From Underground. It is not a work of this blogger nor that blog's administrator, but it belongs on this blog as much as it does his.

I Can't Beleive That I Work With These People: Special Edition

My Supervisor quit today-- effecitive immediately. Where she will be going is a mystery to me. What she will be doing is also a mystery.

She would come in around 10AM, have lunch at 12 PM, returns at 2 PM, and would leave at 4 PM. She once said that she was going to an afternoon meeting at the home office, but in reality she went for a bikini wax. Often she would work from home, but she would not call from her home number.

On my first day she forgot I was starting and left me to sit in HR for over an hour.

If she was at her desk you couldn't ask her anything about the job because she just did not know. There is this security feature called the Customer Identification Number. It allows our customers to register to the website. It's the same for everyone. She would ask what it was at least once a month.

She also has a temper that cannot be matched. The slightest thing would set her off when her medication wore off. Her nicknames include the following: Godzilla, Looney Tunes, Fearless Leader, the Demon, and Mein Fuher.

Sure as shit she won't be missed.

Adventures in Philanthropy

My wonderful girlfriend is empoyed by a no-name charity in the Central Jersey area. In her short tenure as this non-prof.'s Event Planner there has been an enourous amoutn of turnover:

1 Event Planner
1 HR Director
2 Receptionists
1 Events Director
1 Administrative Assistant
1 Financial Department cubicle-dweller

Turnover isn't exactly the right word since the receptionist is the only position that was filled, well once. (The current receptionist just put in her notice.) The Administrative Assistant was recently let go for a number of reasons, cheif among them -- porn. Yes, porn. Her computer has over 300 explict websites bookmarked in the browser. They range from teen-queens to lesbians in action. There are also a number of websites in which one can purchase various sex toys. Granted this is a gross violation of compnay policy, but the best part was that the president and co-founder of this charity told this AA to leave immediatly or everyone in the company would know the last website she visited.

How do I know this threat was made? The idiot told my girlfriend in a meeting. And, now we come to the crux of the matter. This ego-maniac brings my girlfriend into a meeting to discuss with her the intimate details of another person's career for no other reason than to intimidate/impress her with his amazingly small penis. Seriously, is there any reason that an employee should know the details of someone's dismissal when that person was not a superior of the person dismissed? No. This is not the first time something like this has happened. A few weeks ago Dick related a story about how he fucked some woman from Tennessee while the door of my girlfriend's office is closed.

Does anyone else see a problem with this? I certainly do.

Anniversary

Today marks the one year anniversary of my fulltime employment in my life after college. To express my sentiments appropriately I will provide an excerpt from the cult classic film Office Space:

Peter Gibbons

So, I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So, that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life.

Dr. Swanson

What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?

Peter Gibbons

Yeah.

Dr. Swanson

Wow, that's messed up....Sorry.

Using the Spectre of Terrorism to Justify Layoffs

The year 2005 has been a turbulent time of migration for my unnamed company. The Board, in its infinite wisdom, decided that internal helpdesk functions act as a detriment to the compnay. They reached this decision by examining the Home Office functions that operate within a 40 mile radius of New York City. After many long meetings, gallons of coffee, and pounds of doughnuts it was decided that all Home Office functions operate within a 40 mile radius of New York City. Therefore, major IT functions must be moved to a new location outside of said radius because a crippling attack to Home Office functions in the New York City area could have devastating results on the bottom line. Instead, they decided to fire a bunch of people.

Realizing that firing people did not solve the problem, a campaign to outsource the functions once performed by loyal employees with a decent salary and generous benefits package was implemented. The Board decided on a company based in the Old South, because there is nothing terrorists want to blow up outside of the NorthEast, West Coast, and Chicago. The new company hired 40% of the former employees paid them less and gave a pittance of benefits.

To justify this action they invoked the threat of Terrorism once again (See "Absurdity") and cited the savings in the hundreds of millions. This figure is propped up by the belief that IT functions had to be moved because the specter of terrorism loomed high over the foothills of the NJ Appalchian Mountians. Since they did not move an internal IT department they save that money. Since they save that money they can use it as a justify their actions. The reality of the situation? They pay the same amount of money to the outsourced company as they would if they kept all their employees, employed. There is no savings they just like to fuck their employees in the ass.

I hate my job.

Mrs. Robinson

The following has very little to do with work but it is dedicated to a good friend of mine:


And here's to you Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know (wu wu wu)
God bless you please Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(hey hey hey...hey hey hey)

We like to know a little bit about you for our files
We like to help you learn to help yourself
Look around youu all you see are sympathetic lies
Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home

And here's to you Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know (wu wu wu)
God bless you please Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(hey hey hey...hey hey hey)

Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes
Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes
It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair
Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids

Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon
Going to the candidates debate
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Ev'ry way you look at it, you lose

Where have you gone Joe Dimaggio
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you (wu wu wu)
What's that you sayMrs. Robinson
Joe Damajiou has long left and gone away
hey hey hey...hey hey hey

Wildwood, The French Canadian Riviera

What I don't need to see when I am on vacation is a bunch of French wannabes in Speedos. I seriously doubt that the rest of the Canadian population wears Speedos as much as these psedo-frogs do. Also, why pay the same price for a skimpy loincloth when a full pair of shorts is available to you? That's bad economics if you ask me.

What truly amazed me about Wildwood, actually all boardwalk towns, is the amount of Eastern Europeans working in the shops, games, ticket booths, etc. What are American teenagers doing? The answer is that consumer society has given people the illusion of wealth therefore Middle-class Americans feel they do not have to work. Granted work sucks, this is what this blog is about. However, I have had a number of really, really, shitty jobs before I graduated. It helps me continue through each day because I know that I will not go back to those jobs.

The issue goes deeper. If you want to complain about outsourcing and other foreign interference with the American economy get out there and work. Don't just give the jobs away to former denizens of the United Soviet Socialist Repuplic, go out and work! Work! It is not you're right to sit on the beach everyday and party. Sure, it sounds fun, but when there are no jobs for you to do, don't complain.

Please, do not take this posting as an anti-slavic peice. It's an anti-laziness peice. Jobs on the boardwalk suck. Most summer jobs suck. Work sucks. It doesn't change. Employers want employees who work. If you don't work now the job you think you should have will be given to someone you'll complain about later. It has nothing to do with affirmitive-action and everything to do with the fact that you are dumb and lazy.

Don't complain if you are not willing to do anything about it.

The Gift of the PTO

I'm giving myself a little six day weekend. Paid days off are truly the only blessing that I have and I am running out of them really fast.

Upon my return I will have articles detailing how terrorism is used to lay people off, a deep look into a Central Jersey charity, and the details of my interim review. Also, the "Asshole Caller of the Month" column will be featured on the 15th of each month.

I am also very excited to annouce a new memeber of The Problem Coordinator team. He is an extremely intelligent individual studying a useless liberal art at a top U.S. University. He will give us a look into the world of the American intern in his own particular idiom.

Have a great weekend and drink plenty of alchohol, I hear it numbs the pain.

New Feature!

Today in History.

I apologize that it is all the way at the bottom, but after three hours of time well spent at work I could not get it to fit on the side bar without screwing up the entire look of the page.

Update: Absurdity

I work until 8 PM. They tested the Call Chain at 7:30 PM. They called me at home. I receved the message when I returned home at 9 PM. The code is: "Under The Boardwalk." I feel like an idoit working for these people.

Absurdity

I love living in an age of terror!

Last fall, there was an uncredited, alleged, indirect threat made to financial institutions in the New York Metro Area. In, what this blogger percieves as, an over reaction to this threat the facist Newark Police Department surrounded the Prudential Building with highway-barriers and S.W.A.T. teams.

Meanwhile, in the developing edge cities/ex-urbs of the I-287 beltway, my company, suffering from an obvious inferiority complex, sent their rent-a-cops out to task. They placed bright-orange-plastic-water-filled highway-barriers across one entrance to the parking garage directing all traffic into the other entrance. They then stood guard over the remaining entrance in their mighty Chevy Trackers. Truly, we are dealing with master strategists here.

The absurdity continues:

A mass email was sent out today giving the details of the Company Call Chain. In the event that a disaster or act of war befalls our office a call chain will be implemented to notify the staff about the disaster. It gets better. In the event that this system is tested we will be given a phrase to repeat the next work day to our supervisor (i.e. The sky is blue). I hear that next year we will have to do our reveiws in the Cone of Silence!

Let me make this clear:

An office surround by trees and corn fields will never be a terrorist target. Prudential? Maybe. My office? Not a chance in Hell. Hurricanes? In North Jersey? No. Landscape changing earthquakes. No. Tornados? NO! I think a pattern is forming. Some disgruntled employee buring the building down. Sure, that's entirely feasible; this job did force someone to commit sucide last Thanksgiving. Even in that rare circumstance, arson not suicide, there is no need for supersecret code words.

Absurd.

Life's Lost Adventure

In my late teens and my early twenties I used to dream about adventure. I used to beleive that I could inject some meaning into my life. Now that I am in my mid-twenties the memories of those dreams are fading fast. Each day that passes I lose another dream. Each phone call I answer I lose more hope. I work towards nothing. I have no purpose but to hold back the flood of emails and phone calls long to enough to receive that direct deposit twice a month. Each morning I scream at my alarm clock mistakenly thinking that the flood of customers has reached me at home.

My brother still dreams. His dream is to study photography and travel North America as a mailman. It seems silly, but consider the posibilites. He could deliver mail in Beverly Hills, or Honolulu. He can apply for transfers when a place becomes routine. Will it happen? Maybe. His dream will morph over the next few years. He will continue to attempt to inject meaning into his life. He will dream about adventure. Who am I to tell him it is only a dream?

Coming Soon: Monthly Columns

Just in case you missed the announcement in "On Nervous Breakdowns," three monthly segments are coming to The Problem Coordinator. I reiterate:

I would urge my three readers to anxiously await three monthly segments coming The Problem Coordinator. The first, which will debut on 1 August 2005, and will repeat on the first of each subsequent month, is "Why God Hates Me." On the second Wednesday of each month starting in August (and repeating) will be, which is sure to be a fan favorite, "I Can't Believe I Work With These People." Finally, on a recurring date to be determined is "Asshole Caller of the Month."

Update: One Quick Swift Kick to the Balls

Well, I gave that overview presentation today. At least I know why I really didn't get the Marketing Assistant job. I don't have big tits nor a tight ass, and I can't "suck a golf ball through a garden hose."

Like I said before: "At least my cube is by the window..."

On Nervous Breakdowns

I've been told that a nervous breakdown is the moment of realization when your internal identity collides and crashes with your external reality, or how you perceive yourself versus how others perceive you. These two identities do not coincide (sic?) and the result is a string of chemical reactions forcing your body into an uncontrollable emotional response as your ego adjusts to this new information.

This is what occured on Tuesday, 12 July 2005. I would like to blame it on the fact that I thought Tuesday was in actuality Wednesday, but I doubt it had much of an effect. What happened was that I simply had a bad call. I didn't handle the call exceptionally well, I'll admit that fact, but the aftermath is what set me off. Well, my boss is what set me off. He started in on me pushing me to place the caller on hold. He started pulling at me while I was on the call. He pulled on me after the call. My natural reaction to unfamilar touching is revulsion. My natural reaction is being pulled is to breakoff the arm that is pulling me. I overcame this reaction by burying this intense emotion deep down inside. The result of that was obviously my nervous breakdown.

I know the question that is burning on your minds....What are the conflicting realities? Well, I believed that I was a reasonably well likable figure with above average intelligence with the possibility of a great future. The burning reality is that I am a loser. I will be a answering these phones until the day they fire or outsource me. I have no real skills, therefore I am not a desirable candidate for any other postion in any other company.

With that said. I would urge my three readers to anxiously await three monthly segments coming to The Problem Coordinator. The first, which will debut on 1 August 2005, and will repeat on the first of each subsequent month, is "Why God Hates Me." On the second Wednesday of each month starting in August (and repeating) will be, which is sure to be a fan favorite, "I Can't Believe I Work With These People." Finally, on a recurring date to be determined is "Asshole Caller of the Month."

One Swift Kick to the Balls

This cannot be made up:

I recently applied to a Marketing Assistant job within my current company, but at its Philiadelphia Branch. I was immediately turned down because I am "too unprofessional." At the time I was disapointed, but I understood the hiring manager's postion.

Fast forward to today. I receive an email from my supervisor indicating that Philadelphia's newest Marketing Assistant will be touring our branch office learning the basic services that we provide as part of her training. Furthermore, I am to give her the presentation for my team. Apparently, I am professional enough to handle that task.

At least my cube is by the window....

What is a Problem Coordinator?

I work in the amazing world of customer service and website technical support. I have a B.A. in History from Rutgers University, and I have never taken a IS, IT, CS, etc. course while pursuing my higher education. I have a peculiar theory as to why this particular tragedy has befallen me, which I will discuss in a later posting.

In the customer service world support is tiered into various levels. There is first level, second level, and, in some instances, thrid level support. First level support is the the Customer Service Rep., the folks who answer all of your incessant telephone calls about nothing....

None of this matters. I don't like my job, and unlike Peter from Office Space I must go there everyday to lose another peice of my soul. Instead, I will share my expereiences in a medium that is fast becoming a horrible cliche.