This is not a sarcastic post.
For a moment, I will hide behind the lacy veil of denial and rave about my job. Good things. It’s always about the good things. Forget about the bad things.
Had I been ambitious, career-oriented, and a go-getter, the place I work in would have been the place to be. The opportunities (which I ignore because I want to go home on the dot) are abound. If I were still single and 10 years younger, I would have attacked at the chance to shine. But other priorities (and old age) are catching up. I really just want to go home… so I can at least fulfill a part of my ultimate dream of being a totally worthless couch potato trophy wife with Blake Lively’s legs. Trophy wifehood is out of the question and I’ll never have those legs unless I stalk Blake and mutilate her. Couch potato-ing is at least attainable — and nothing can beat that, long legs or not.
On some days, when I am grooving and looking through John Lennon-shaped, rose-colored glasses, I sometimes convince myself that I like my job.
Not that I dislike job. It’s ok – just ok. It’s something to pass the time and to be honest, it’s a mere source of income. Of course, despite such notions, I still try to maintain a decent work ethic because this is how I see it: irresponsible work habits = poor character = bad upbringing. My parents brought me up better than that. But I will also be the first to acknowledge that I don’t excel at work. The only reasons I used to stand out from the rest of my 1000+ fellow worker bees in the office were my awesome neck-breaking high-heeled shoes (LOL!), but I don’t wear them anymore so I am absolutely insignificant now. An insignificant person with happier legs and feet. So, yeah, $$$.
Imagine. You may say I’m a dreamer…
1. My former boss is likable (again, not a single drop of sarcasm here, I swear.) and she’s nice to me. It isn’t often that you’d hear that claim from us lowly worker bees, but it’s true. She was a nice Queen Bee and she’s charming (she’s from the south and sometimes I could hear Scarlett O’Hara and Kyra Sedgwick’s Deputy Chief Brenda Johnson when she speaks). You can’t say I’m sucking up to her because she doesn’t know about this blog. She gave me a home-cooked gumbo once and several cute onesies for the Little Creature…awww,….We’ve worked together for more than two years and she returned to the US last May. The new Queen Bee who replaced her has an entirely different leadership style, but it looks like we will work well together. I’m lucky with Queen Bees I guess.
2. When the clock strikes 3:01 PM, the time is all mine, mine, mine. I blow raspberries to emails, calls or text messages received after 3pm, that is, except when they’re from both Queen Bees, although I don’t recall either of them ever contacting me after office hours yet.
3.Getting in at 6am = transportation allowance! Ka-ching! Ka-ching! $$$
4. The Company’s commitment to health and safety.
When I was new, I thought the attitude toward safety was bordering on paranoia. But I have come to realize how important health and safety are. Simple things like slipping, tripping, bumps, humps and lumps, are taken into account. I try to be more careful now. Filipinos in general seem to have a poor concept of safety (I used to have one, too. Couldn’t care less about minor things like seatbelts or slippery floors or traveling in an airplane without seats or standing .0001 millimeter away from North Korea’s border. Shudder). If only there is a way we could impart some of the company’s culture to everyone, then the roads would be a little safer.
My favorite safety equipment is my ergonomic workstation. It is designed to maximize efficiency (so that’s why I’m so effing efficient!) increase productivity (and I’m so productive, too!), and to minimize fatigue and injury. It, of course, does not beat a spa, but it’s way better than the stinky, uncomfortable chairs (with the chewed up bubblegum stuck underneath) in my previous offices.
At one corner of my cubicle is my computer table and keyboard tray. On the left part of my cubicle tray is a series of buttons which are programmed for adjusting the height of the table. Press a button and the table makes a futuristic whirring sound effect as it goes up and down, up and down, up and down.
Button 1: height for when I am sitting down wearing flats;
Button 2: height for when I am sitting down wearing heels;
Button 3: height for when I am standing up wearing flats (or barefoot);
Button 4: height for when I am standing up wearing heels (3-inch heels to be exact).
Someday, I will have a Button 5 added for my imaginary Louboutins, when I get to be imaginary Queen Bee.
Sounds weird, huh, being encouraged to work standing up (even during meetings) 25% of the day. But those ergo experts know what they’re talking about. And it’s the decaf way to awaken the senses. It works for someone like me who has a straight cervical spine, a mild scoliosis, a myofascial pain syndrome, a TMJ disorder, and all those weird back and bone disorders. The few times I have to work from home, and sometimes when I watch tv series in my computer at home, I do so standing up.
I don’t get to observe that 25% thing, by the way. I only work standing up maybe 3% of the day (or week) because (1) that’s the only time when I look good and my hair is on good behavior (our cubicles have low panels so working on my feet would mean everyone at the floor getting a view of my fugly face) (2) I want to show off to everyone how busy I am but am actually just trying to hear office gossip more clearly while pretending to be engrossed in work.
My chair has been adjusted and modified for my physique (because I have reeaally looong legs that get squashed under tables meant for short people. haha-I-wish). My back is in love with the back rest and has trouble letting go. I wish I could chair-nap (kidnap and nap in) it. Our computers are programmed to pop Workpace Breaks (5-6 minute breaks which freeze the screens) every few hours or so, and Micropauses (10 seconds) if the computer detects that we’ve been over-typing or over-mousing. One thing that’s maddening is when the Workpace Break suddenly pops up right before I shut down the computer.
I use dual monitors (Monitor 1 for work; Monitor 2 for watching TV series. Kidding, boss!) and they are adjusted to the correct height and placed strategically to minimize neck movement and hunching.
My keyboard is in a tent position because, ahem, I’m a touch typist. I use my left hand for the mouse, which is again placed strategically to avoid overreaching. I am proud to be an ambi-mouser!
Yep, it sounds mighty weird, all right, but one gets used to it after a while.
5. Chocolates (my needs are so simple). My bin is filled with boring documents and chocolates (and other food stuff). I usually receive the chocolates from offshore employees who visit the site to show their gratitude for my exemplary and brilliant and praiseworthy and invaluable and fantastic work.
6. The people. Well, if you compare them with my previous sucker-punching coworkers, they’re definitely more tolerable… even likable. I’ve never experienced being sucker punched (maybe my veil of denial is really just very thick. Or I just don’t care anymore). Here, you work, you perform, and the bosses notice it, so you get what you deserve. Bosses noticing = opportunities = more work = less time for the Little Creature and TV. Ah, bosses, feel free to look the other way.
Sure, there are some, uh, deviants who go out of their way to bring forth hell and suffering to simple folks like us. That’s diversity, says the company. Let’s accept them.
I have two ways to deal with them: ignore them and let them fade into oblivion (they’re really not at all significant) or, for entertainment purposes, make fun of them, their faces, and their clothes over lunch with teammates.
7. I learn a lot. So weird.
So why the sudden happy-perky yakking about my work? Well, I celebrated my 5th year anniversary last August 16 (I was on emergency leave that day because the Little Creature was diagnosed with foot and mouth disease. That’s maybe for another post, if I still feel like talking about it. The poor thing.) so I’m in a pondering mood. Today I got my service award! What a sweet surprise. I knew it was coming because I was the one who chose it but I kind of forgot about it. When the mailroom guy called me to tell me that my service award is ready for pickup, I was in a totally stupid moment and even asked him what he was talking about. But anyway, here they are:
Cute boxes! What are in them?
More cute boxes!
Ta-da! a silver and amethyst bracelet and a gold lapel pin of our company hallmark with a solitaire diamond. Had to blur the hallmark a bit for some confidentiality, heehee. Anyway, it’s too tiny to see. The actual award is the silver bracelet, which looks fake, and the pin is like an add on but I like the pin better. Something to add to my collection.
Message to fellow worker bees: Be nice to fellow worker bees. Keep your word. Meet deadlines. Don’t take things too seriously. Do favors so fellow worker bees will owe you, haha. Don’t borrow money. Fellow worker bees have financial problems of their own. If you absolutely have to, pay back. Be civil to the deviants. Or give them a cold, but civil brush-off, haha again. If you hate your job so much, stop complaining and leave. Just leave. Spare our ears from your banshee wailing and leave. Find opportunities elsewhere.