File this under the heading "Stuff I cannot make up"

Hello my friends!


 For those of you not familiar with the television show, "The Office,"  especially the US remake of the brilliant British original,  you need to check it out on Netflix, or on NBC's website. It might take a couple episodes to warm up for you, but believe me, it's worth it, and it's apparently going to become required reading if you're going to check in on this blog.

Yesterday was a lightening bolt of a day for me.  It's only my third Monday.  Yes, that's correct, I've only been in this job two weeks and one day.  And in that time, I was offered a promotion, (refused it after 3 days of training), became the "answer girl" for roughly half the things we do in the actual office, helped relocate the office, got bought out, fired, and rehired.

That was my first two weeks.  So arriving to work on Monday, I was sort of channelling the great Dorothy Parker when she said, "What fresh hell is this?"

I don't think even Dorothy could have believed this one.

In true Michael Scott fashion, the branch I work for is the most profitable in the company, which means my NBM  (New Boss Man) will probably never be fired, demoted, or exiled to an island deep in the Pacific, guarded by man eating sharks....all of which are female.  (He doesn't play that well with the fairer sex.) 

Working in the office, listening to those around me, I was convinced that the corporation as whole understood that NBM was pretty much a throwback to those delightful days when women were only good for bringing coffee and chasing around a desk, and they were keeping close watch on him so that he wouldn't actually do something so 1954 he'd do damage to someone.

Well I was right about one thing...they were keeping a close tab on him.

Yesterday, when I arrived and was simply minding my own business and making coffee, I heard a shout of agony emit from him office.  I was sort of hoping that he'd fallen and bruised his double standard, but such was not the case.  No, instead, corporate sent him an email informing him that he was to take three days next week and visit the nerve center of the company.  (The big corporation company, not the home office of the gent who just bought us and now runs us under the same name...you think this is confusing...try working here.)


They want to do a psychological profile on him...

To find out what in his brain makes him such an awesome leader that our branch is so profitable.

This is the man who last week got into a shouting match with...oh let's call her Sherry, the woman who sets sales appointments.  (More on her on Friday.)  The argument:  whether or not Sherry had clicked on the wrong button and scheduled the same appointment twice in one day.  (She had.)  The reason for the length of the argument?  (9 minutes)  NBM doesn't have any better grasp of the computer system than Sherry has.  And I've only been there two weeks.  It was sort of like listening to two people talk in a language they don't totally understand, and you only vaguely know.  (I solved their issue with two clicks of a mouse...took me forty seconds.  I should NEVER be the smartest person in the room! That does not bode well for the room as a whole.)

This is the man who, though he informed me that he knew EVERY aspect of the job, could not answer a simple procedural question I had and instead had me call an office in St. Louis.

This is the man who is now hiding his cereal bowl and spoon in a drawer in the new kitchen.  Washed?  No, of course not.  Rinsed, I believe so, but not washed.  Imagine my delight when I stumbled upon that this morning while looking for a coffee filter.

Yet, in true Michael Scott fashion, our branch is NUMBER 1 in all the branches of the company.  And the corporation wants to know how to make more of him.

God help us all.

How did you not fall down more before you hired me?

Hello all!

So I've now been at the new gig 7 days, and I have to ask this question:

HOW DO I KEEP FALLING INTO THESE MESSES?

Let's just recap what's happened in my first 7 weekdays:

Monday:  First day...was handed a large file of paper and told to schedule plumbing inspections.  Was not told what, exactly, was being inspected, or where the phone numbers for the plumbing inspectors were.  Also, was held responsible for the fact that one of the municipalities had raised their permit fees and therefore permit requests were being returned...slowly.

Tuesday:  Was offered sort of a promotion...since a position just opened up.  No talk of money, but was sent immediately to another desk where the disgruntled employee who was leaving was to train me.

Wednesday:  Learning far more about the New Bossman than I really wanted to.  And not all that jazzed about it.  NBM leaves empty cereal bowl on my desk after he eats his breakfast.  Figuring, since the bowl is sitting next to the plaque that says, "Director of first impressions"  I probably shouldn't have a crusty, milky cereal bowl on my desk, I take it and wash it.  Rest of the office folk scold me for failing the "bowl test."

Thursday:  Really starting to wish people would remember that I have been here four days, not four years.  Find out more interesting info on the Boss...and am starting to think I work in a daycare center, given how much tattling there is in the form of furtive phone calls to Human Resources.  Starting to feel that same heavy feeling when I come home from work.  Oh, and though the new position is triple the responsibility, NBM informs me that my raise will be $1.50 and hour from my previous agreement.  Not sure it's worth it.

Friday:  Can't take the pressure of the hurried training any more.  I can probably do the job, but between NBM's constant pressure to know everything NOW and the rest of the office telling me how awful he is and how hard the job is, I've decided NOT to take the offer.  NBM did not take it well.  Informs me that he knows EVERY ASPECT of the position and that the woman doing the job is simply slacking because she likes to create tension.  Having sat next to this woman for four solid days, I have my doubts...but I don't care.  My soul is worth more than $1.50 an hour...I think.  I feel remarkable happy again, in spite of the fact that NBM, in a hissy fit, drops another file of paper on my desk and says, "Fine, then do this."  Again, no explanation about what I'm supposed to actually do with it...so I sort the papers into a nice alphabetical order and put them in my desk.

Friday PM:  After long talks with NBM, the other woman decides to leave a week early and never return.  She spends an hour on the phone with HR, and then walks out.  She does leave her keys with the other lady in the office (the one who shrieks and cries when she can't figure out something on the computer...which is pretty much every half hour), as well as a note for NBM.

Monday:  Did I mention that the lady who got the note and the keys doesn't come in until 11 AM?  When I arrive at 8 AM, the office is in chaos...and suddenly I am the answer lady.  Turns out, NBM knows NOTHING about the position in question and between him and the production manager, they haven't a clue how to carry out the most basic tasks in the company.  At least the production manager says please and thank you when I am able to help them out. 

Yes, I've been here less than 6 days.

Oh, the office is relocating, and no one seems to know exactly which day we're supposed to show up at the new location.  I ask this question and it turns out that today, Tuesday, I'll be at the old location one more day. Which is funny, since I happen to know that the phones are being switched to the new location today.  NBM also informs me that I'm responsible for packing up and moving my office computer.  Really?  I wasn't aware that I was covered under the insurance policy for broken stuff. 

Also, while there are 7 company cars and vans in the parking lot, apparently not a single one of them is stocked with a pair of jumper cables.  While we in Wisconsin don't worry about dead batteries so much in the summer, jumper cables are something most of us carry in our cars.  However, when I return from my lunch break, sales guy asks if I have jumper cables because his company car is dead.  I do...but seriously?  How did these people manage to stay upright without me?

Bigger question...how do I keep falling into these situations?  Is all of corporate America simply this comical?  Am I being filmed?  Is that Rick Gervaise behind the shop door?  Am I on The Office?

My company picture.  The only on
missing is the woman who weeps
when the computer make her mad.

Finally, today.  As I expected, the phone guy showed up at 8 AM just as it had been mentioned about the office for at least...7 days.  Guess who was COMPLETELY SHOCKED by the news that we were not going to have any phones available to us all day?  If you said New Boss Man, you'd be right.

But the bigger funny, the one that made me run to the bathroom for a private guffaw.  The production manager, you know, the one not allowed to schedule production appointments, was not quite understanding why he couldn't fax something.  The following is a real life conversation between the two men who are now giving me orders:

PM:  I can't fax anything.  I'll bet that's because the phones are out.

NBM:  Why can't you fax anything?

PM:  The phones are disconnected.

NBM:  Why wouldn't you be able to fax anything?

PM:  Isn't the fax line connected to the phones?

NBM:  Oh, that's right.  So....what you're saying is that we can't fax anything?

PM:  I guess not.

I mystified them all by answering a phone call in the middle of this meeting of the brain trust.  Apparently, the phones hadn't quite been turned off.  Here is that conversation:

NBM:  Did you just take a phone call?

NGS  (New Girl Sarah):  Yes.  From one of the sales guys.

NBM:  How did you do that?

NGS (fighting the urge to reply in a smart alecky way):  I guess the phone isn't completely disconnected yet.

Phone Guy (who is about ready to shoot someone in the face):  Okay, all your phones are disconnected.

NBM:  They can't be...she just took a call.

Phone Guy:  Right...and then I disconnected the lines.

NBM:  Then how could she take the call.

NGS:  Excuse me...I'm just going to run to the ladies' room.

It's a real place...and I work there now.  God help us all.

So now we are in our new location.  It's a lovely big top with lots of music and clowns running around.  Me...I'm the bearded fat lady in the corner, taking notes and writing my next novel.