Out on my ear

I wasn't in a good mood when I got into the office this morning because the tube had been even more cramped than usual and obviously some people had seen the weather report that it might rain later so I had to deal with umbrellas jabbing me in the ass every two minutes. Not great!

Things got even worse because no sooner had I sat down than Pam trotted through and said she wanted to see me in her office. I smiled sweetly and went on inside. Once again, there was a pile of coffee cups on her desk. Either she'd been in there drinking coffee all weekend or the cleaners hate her as much as I do and don't clear her shit away for her. She sits me down and starts saying things like she wants staff to be consolidated and it's really important that the face of the firm is actually one that belongs to the team and is not from another organisation. My mind was ticking over like mad by this point but I thought it was best not to say anything and just let her carry on droning. Her saucer eyes didn't move from my face once the entire time she was speaking and I was determined not to look away so it must have looked like we were having a staring contest. She said that because Donna was intending to leave now was an ideal time to find a receptionist who can truly represent the firm and it was not suitable for a temporary worker to be manning the desk longer than a permanent one. What she was getting it here I have no clue, but I assume she didn't want a smelly old temp showing a new perm receptionist the ropes. Her mistake. She told me that Donna would be serving her notice period doing other duties and that I was being released from my contract that VERY MINUTE. Then she looked away and brought out one of my temp agency's timesheets. "We'll pay you for today, of course," she said and signed her name on the sheet before taking her copy and giving me the other for the agency. I just kind of sat there not knowing what to say. "If you could get your personal effects from the desk and then I'll ask David (a security guard!) to escort you out of the building." was her next move and so I took the timesheet, stood up and left the office.

When I got back to reception, there was what looked like a 17 year old sitting there obviously shitting herself in case the phone rang. She was tapping with one finger on the keyboard attempting to scroll down on the legendary crap operating system. I started putting my bits and bobs in my bag. I don't tend to keep much at any desk I have so it didn't take long. The 17 year old turned to me and asked if I knew what to do when the screen froze. I asked her if she was a temp and she said no she wasn't. "Then you're on your own love," was my reply and I made to walk towards the lift as David dragged his knuckles behind me. As I was stepping into the lift, I turned to see Jeanette stood there with a smug expression on her face and then she walked into Pam's office and shut the door. What a fucking joke.

I got outside and called my recruitment agent and told her what had happened and she was gobsmacked. She said not to worry and that she'd do her best to dig something out for me.

I'm not particularly bothered about not working there any more- temping is supposed to be temporary after all, but I found the way I was removed a bit weird and can't help but think that Jeanette has got something to do with it.

And so I'm at home on a Monday afternoon instead of answering phones and watching Donna work her way through yet another packet of Chewits. It's a funny old world.

The breakdown

Yesterday I broke my unwritten rule of having too much to drink on a work night and went to the pub with Donna to discuss her future plans. She's very excited- like a Yorkshire terrier on speed- and kept getting the drinks in. The result was I could feel my speech slurring by nine and knew I had to get home. Today, I am hung-over in a bad way. If any callers have been taking too long to get to the point, I've just been disconnecting them and leaving Donna to deal with any tirades when they call back.

Donna's transformation from chav extraordinaire to super empowered independent woman is nothing short of miraculous. She hasn't said anything mildly racist in weeks and is actually not that bad to be around. I'd quite forgotten that my whole reason for helping her was to get rid of her so i could have the reception to myself, but now I've decided I don't really want to work there anyway. What am I like?

My usual supervisor goes on holiday today for two weeks so someone else will be overseeing my duties and making sure I don't spend the day on the web posting fake profiles on dating sites or booking holidays (just booked a weekend in Rome this afternoon). Her name is Pam- which every office worker in their mid fifties seems to be called these days- and she wanted to see me earlier this morning. This wasn't really good for me as I've been feeling like shit all day but I rallied a bit and painted on a smile and went on in.

Pam was sitting behind her desk in front of a mountain of empty coffee cups. I'd never seen her close up before so wasn't quite prepared for how large her eyes looked behind her very thick glasses. They were boring into me as I walked in. She told me to sit down and then said how much she was looking forward to working with me. Alarm bells rang straight away- when someone tells you that it means one of two things- 1. You're fired or 2. I'm gonna work you like a bitch and make your life hell. She explained that she'd heard that items of stationery had been going missing and she knew how temps loved to get their hands on post-it notes and pens (???). This totally baffled me because I never write anything down ever. In only pick up a pen to pick my nose! She then said that although my weekly timesheet told her how many hours I'd worked per day, it didn't say what I'd done. My face must have looked completely incredulous because she went on to explain further. "I'd like you to write down the tasks you've done each hour and tell me when you take your breaks and that kind of thing. It's like a breakdown of your working day. Be as specific as you can. You can start that from Monday if you like." She then got up and opened the door for me as I went back to my desk totally dumbstruck. What the fuck is going on? What does she think that is daily task list will consist of? I don't need to be a fucking clairvoyant to write Monday's 'breakdown' for the saucer-eyed bitch RIGHT NOW.

0830 – 0930 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1030 – 1130 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1130 – 1230 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1230 – 1330 Stand for ages in queue for sandwich. Get pissed off because sandwich is not what I asked for. Eat it anyway. Return to desk to hear Donna moan "I'm starvin" for the eightieth day in a row.
1330 – 1430 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1430 – 1530 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1530 – 1630 Do a handstand. No- only joking. Answer phones and take deliveries.
1630 – 1730 Answer phones and take deliveries.
1730 Skip home safe in the knowledge that my job is a load of shit.

Why exactly does this thrilling day need to be itemised? Or does she want me to tell the truth?!!?

Don't mess with the mother

Finally I have the time to blog again, not that anything much has happened. My protegee is now ready to fly the nest and is handing in her month's notice this week. She's got her place at beauty school and is ready to rock. Her mother has been informed and is unsurprisingly blaming me- and so she should.

I don't normally eat in the staff canteen, preferring to go to the park or just sit anywhere but the office when it's time to have lunch, but the other day was so hot I couldn't bear to brave the elements and leave the air con behind (it was working that day). When I was deciding which kind of quiche was least likely to give me food poisoning, I heard a thunderclap behind me. I turned round to see Jeanette striding towards me with all the grace and charm of a birthing rhino. I smiled and got no smile back so I guessed the deed had been done and Donna had revealed her plans.

To cut a long story short Jeanette insisted on sitting opposite me as I pretended to eat my salad. She spat and convulsed like a Tasmanian devil, saying I was putting ridiculous ideas into her daughter's head. Now, Jeannie works in HR and is kind of important, but my lunch break is fucking precious to me and it was bad enough I was having to spend it in the building instead of out in the park checking out the hotties so I just said "Oh Christ, Jeanette, the only thing I'm putting into Donna's head is actual thoughts, something she's never experienced thanks to you suffocating her at every turn. Now why not go and discuss this with Donna and let me eat this poor excuse for a salad in peace?" She said I could "get fucked", which is absolutely correct- I can and DO get fucked unlike her- and then she was gone.

I was clever this time and forewarned my supervisor about the bust-up but she said it sounded like a personal matter and wouldn't affect my job here. If anything she said Jeanette;s swearing had made her look worse. All the same, I've decided that my work here is done and it's time to move on. It's not all bad, I reckon I gave Donna a boost and I even managed to nab myself a little souvenir of my time at this job- the beautiful Matthieu. Haha. I think I've got a couple more weeks while they try and take on two new members of staff so I've still got time to show them just who is the mightiest Receptionista of them all.

Too hot to blog

Normal service will be resumed as soon as someone fixes the fucking air-con. xxx

Getting away with it

Today's been a bit of a downer so far because it's the anniversary of the London tube bombings so everyone's been quieter and a bit nicer to each other. Donna and me have been spreading the love by wearing lower-cut tops today. We felt it was the least we could do to cheer up the boys. Some of the guys had friends who were injured or freaked out and one of the bombs was pretty close so everyone's just all subdued and thoughtful.

Donna's looking better every day- I think the breakthrough has been made and I know I've actually done this girl a favour. Even though I started helping her out for my own gains, I know that she's lots happier. Wow I feel like the girl out of Clueless or something- but not as stupid.

Anyway, we're still working on Donna plucking up the courage to tell her mum that she's going to train to be a beauty therapist, but I think we're close now.

Anyway, what else has been happening? It's been quite quiet really. My supervisor- who I hardly ever see because she's so busy sorting out all the young Pas who cry all the time because they've too much work- came to have a word with me about my run-in with the bitchy PA the other week. I thought I was in the shit because while my supervisor is a nice woman, she doesn't take any shit and is mega efficient- a woman after my own heart. She came up to me earlier this week and said she wanted to talk to me about Anne. "Who's Anne?" was my response. She explained that Anne was Colin's PA and had moaned about me because of my rudeness. When I quoted back almost word for word the exchange I'd had with the snippy bitch, I could see my supervisor's mouth tighten as if she was trying not to laugh.

She said "Look, this woman's a lazy bitch and we know it, and she knows we know it, but people are hard to sack...unless they're temps." I gulped at this point. "But," she continued, "as long as you just stay out of her way and try not to rub her up the wrong way again I'm sure I can sort it." She laid her hand on my shoulder quite protectively. "I think I've dealt with it now and while I'm not saying you have to take any nonsense from her or anybody, just watch your step. Some of these Pas have been here since before Stonehenge and can get uppity about newcomers pointing out how lazy they are." She then smiled and walked off. That's what I believe they call a result!