It's a Dangerous Job

Typically when you think of an office job you think of a cushy position, in a comfortable office, sitting at a desk all day, right? I mean the last word you would think of to describe an office job would be "dangerous" am I right? I can think of an entire list of jobs that I could describe as dangerous but a normal 9 to 5 office job is not one I would put in that category. Well I guess that was until I landed this job. Allow me to educate you on the hazards of my job.

Physical Hazards
1. Oddly enough lugging 25, heavy, paper boxes full of documents back and forth takes a toll on the body. One particular instance I loaded the boxes onto a cart with wheels and by the time I had delivered them to their final destination I looked like I had just competed in a triathlon. I am telling you, pit stains are not attractive. My hair was matted to my scalp and my make up was making a fast exit south. I went hastily to the bathroom to try and salvage what little dignity remained. Wouldn't you know that the minute I returned I was met with, "Oh by the way I changed my mind and I would like the boxes to be put back in their original spot." "Dear Lord help me before I scream bloody murder!!" And He did. Needless to say I woke up the next morning feeling like I had just gone Venus and Serena all over the tennis court.

2. To say I handle paper at this job would be an understatement. I mean I am all over it like a... (*blush*)I'll let you fill in an appropriate analogy. If the trees found out about the copious amounts of paper that inundates this office, we'd be looking at World War Tree (I couldn't resist). The following scenario is practically an everyday occurrence: Here I am rifling through the stacks upon stacks of paper I must copy, file, or shred. All of a sudden the sterling white is blemished by a deep red spot. "What on earth?" I think to my self. I go back a few pages and realize that they too are blemished. It is then that I realize the deep red spots look like blood! I drop the papers in hand and turn my fingers every which way until I find the source of this drippage. Ahh. It's a nasty one. Oh well. If it is only paper cut #79 then I consider it a good day. "Paper, you have outwitted me this time but alas, tomorrow I'll be wearing gloves."

3. Standing at the copy machine for approximately 6 1/2 hours at a time. Definitely a hazard.

Mental/Emotional Hazards
1. I probably enjoy the most exciting tasks in the office. And by exciting I mean brain cell killing, mind numbing, and dizzyingly boring. Most of my projects involve a repetitive action. That may sound easy but after several hours of doing the same motion your brain does in fact shut down. When this happens your body goes on auto pilot and left to it's own vices it's not pretty. Symptoms include glossy eyes, vacant expression, and mouth frozen with lips parted slightly.

2. Unbeknownst to many, an office job can take a toll on your emotions. One day I was filling in for the receptionist and as such, I had to man the phones. I heard that familiar chirp, picked up the receiver, and gave our friendly greeting. My friendly greeting was met with an angry snarl. The lady on the other end demanded that I put her through to extension 123. Knowing that our extensions only spanned the 400's, but wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt, I kindly told her I would check to see if we had that extension. Apparently the time it took me to lift my eyes to the paper and open my mouth was an eternity to this person because she proceeded to unleash a slew of ugly verbiage. Not only did she attack my intelligence but she attacked my character as well. I said all of two sentences to this Venom Lady and yet she felt it necessary to abuse me with her words. She then had the nerve to hang up on me! God Bless her. I sat there stunned and shaking for a few minutes. Wow. Who knew that answering the phone was so offensive? Then I thought, I need to pray for Venom Lady. Who knows what may be going on in her life? She may just need a hug.

"You want me to do what?!"

I take pride in my appearance. I probably care too much and spend a little too much time on how I look but unfortunately it is one of those character flaws I am trying to work on. If any of you ladies have discovered the secret to not caring what you look like then please do me a favor and enlighten me.

So I had on this not quite red, not quite pink jacket and wedge heels that matched perfectly. I'm telling you, it was going to be a good day. Now these wedges were brand spanking new (note to self: never break in new heels at work where you are stuck wearing them for 8 hours). Thirty minutes into my day, my feet were starting to squirm. "This was a bad idea, " I thought. Oh well, "suck it up girl. You are a professional now and your legs look hot."

I did not know that some bosses put their employees through job initiations. I always thought that that kind of thing was reserved for gangs, fraternities and sororities. Well my boss took one look at me and immediately I could see the wheels turning, "Now what can I do to torture our newest employee?" I did not like the look on her face. The hair on my arms stood on end and I felt the air around me take on a distinct chill. "Oh Copy Girl!" she said patronizingly. "I have a special job for you. I need this box of documents taken to the building downtown. Oh and you'll have to walk." "Alright. No problem," I said as I felt my feet scream "are you crazy?!" I turned to go and caught the look on my boss's face, "Hmph! That'll teach her never to wear her pretty little heels again." Funny thing, it did.

By the time I got home the skin on my heels was completely rubbed off and bleeding. I had blisters the size of grapes, and the bones in my feet felt like a pile of mangled hangers. What a day. I think it's time to go shopping for flats.

The Adventures of Copy Girl

The ink was barely dry on my diploma before I landed my very first full time job. College life was officially over and a new chapter in my life was unfolding. I tried to be brave as I boarded the elevator to the sixth floor. I had no idea what lay ahead but I trusted that the Lord had brought me this far and He was not going to leave me now.



Basically all I knew was that my title was "Office Assistant." A little copying, a little filing, how hard could this job be? I had traded in my jeans and flip flops for a more "professional" look with heels and everything. If nothing else I looked good. I took a deep cleansing breath as I exited the elevator and walked through the gleaming glass doors. "This is going to be an adventure," I thought to myself as I tried to quell the butterflies in my stomach.



And an adventure it has been. I plan to document some of these adventures to gain perspective, try to keep my sanity, and laugh. The following stories are based on my life at the office.