WANNA GROW UP TO BE A DEBASER
This is my first day of work, and so far it's full of blunders. I'm trying my best to get the hang of the phone systems and gracefully answer the phone and forward calls to the necessary people, none of whom, of course, are here today. Most of all, it takes a serious amount of finesse to give the impression that one is competent, busy, and quick when really you're putzing around on the internet and asking where calls need to be forwarded. It's dull and mind-numbing, and I've only been here for two hours.
My new bass guitar is giving me all kinds of reasons to work, though. Not only because I'll have lots of new accessories to drool over, but because I want to replete my account after my buying frenzy at Guitar World. I'm just trying to keep myself thinking about the salary, not looking at the clock, and doing something that at least looks productive. Ugh. If you know of anything that I can try to make myself look more productive, you have to let me know. Endless blog posting and e-mailing and message boarding seems a little suspicious, although that's what all the other interns seem to do. Believe me, I won't be disappointed at all if I don't get a renewed contract here. I'll take my five weeks and run, thanks very much.
It's kind of sad to see how many people fall through the cracks and want to talk to Bill DeWeese himself. So far I've talked to a lady whose trust fund has been voided, and who hasn't had any help from anybody. She wanted Bill himself to save her, but he doesn't work here, and we can't just patch you through to him, as sorry as we are. I've also tried to help a woman whose father in law is going to die from lung cancer because of something a contractor did. She wanted to talk to Bill DeWeese, too, but what can I do but patch her through to Sharon? All of these people are sick of cheery-voiced interns like me, who are all too hopeful to pass them on to another voicemail box, another office, where they'll just deal with more interns. It kind of sucks.
This is my first day of work, and so far it's full of blunders. I'm trying my best to get the hang of the phone systems and gracefully answer the phone and forward calls to the necessary people, none of whom, of course, are here today. Most of all, it takes a serious amount of finesse to give the impression that one is competent, busy, and quick when really you're putzing around on the internet and asking where calls need to be forwarded. It's dull and mind-numbing, and I've only been here for two hours.
My new bass guitar is giving me all kinds of reasons to work, though. Not only because I'll have lots of new accessories to drool over, but because I want to replete my account after my buying frenzy at Guitar World. I'm just trying to keep myself thinking about the salary, not looking at the clock, and doing something that at least looks productive. Ugh. If you know of anything that I can try to make myself look more productive, you have to let me know. Endless blog posting and e-mailing and message boarding seems a little suspicious, although that's what all the other interns seem to do. Believe me, I won't be disappointed at all if I don't get a renewed contract here. I'll take my five weeks and run, thanks very much.
It's kind of sad to see how many people fall through the cracks and want to talk to Bill DeWeese himself. So far I've talked to a lady whose trust fund has been voided, and who hasn't had any help from anybody. She wanted Bill himself to save her, but he doesn't work here, and we can't just patch you through to him, as sorry as we are. I've also tried to help a woman whose father in law is going to die from lung cancer because of something a contractor did. She wanted to talk to Bill DeWeese, too, but what can I do but patch her through to Sharon? All of these people are sick of cheery-voiced interns like me, who are all too hopeful to pass them on to another voicemail box, another office, where they'll just deal with more interns. It kind of sucks.
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