My poor reader. You will tire of me repeating certain phrases like a broken record. However, sometimes, I will repeat them, because people continue to give me cause to repeat myself. Today my plea is directed towards the parents. Believe me when I say that there are times in my personal life where I am not the nicest person on the phone. Or if my electricity bill is too high, which is frequently the case, I’m not always the most pleasant person to speak with. I’m not always all smiles and endless patience, such as my job portrays. In fact, today you, Mr. Jackass, almost unleashed to Jen that I strive to keep controlled, not only in a professional setting, but also in a social setting.

What did Mr. Jackass do?

His daughter went potluck for 2 roomies in a 4/4. This means that she had one roommate that she was friends with and needed two others to occupy the four bedroom four bathroom apartment. Her friend backed out of her lease and found someone else to take over the lease for her. So now, Jackass’s daughter is living with three strangers. The stranger that took over the friend’s lease is causing trouble, not paying utilities, the works. So, Jackass calls the office. He essentially tells me that I’m an idiot, the apartment complex is run by idiots, he thinks the way that we do things here is idiotic, and he would like to speak to the manager.

Well, hell. If you’ve read my previous post, you’ll know that my “managers” aren’t there. That was the icing on the cake for Mr. Jackass. I am doing my hardest to be helpful and informative, but when Jackass stops me to tell me that I am not telling him what  he wants to hear and that the manager didn’t either, but he’d rather talk to the manager because at least she is an adult… Jen almost lost her everlovin mind. I wanted to tell him that he was being rude, and if he actually wanted his problem to be remedied, then he might want to consider being polite to the people who will be taking care of it. He then left his name and his phone number, and I seem to have lost the message… Whoops.

Jackass.

I am frustrated. Rare is the day that I am genuinely frustrated and have come to the point that I’m willing to bite the bullet and actually confront the person(s) that are the source of my discontent. I’m just not exactly sure when I decided that enough was enough, but I did decide it extremely late in comparison to the rest of the people in my office. I was under the impression that work requires mandatory attendance.

Silly me.

I was also under the impression that “managment” was generally a mandatory practice. They are here to be able to answer the questions and make the decisions that the employees cannot make. What, then, are we to do whenever “management” deems it unnecessary to be here?

Wing it.

What makes me frustrated is not that “management” isn’t here a lot, it’s that I have no idea when “management” will actually be in the office! I do not mind informing residents, parents, bill collectors, and our regional manager that “I’m sorry, ———’s not in the office right now, can I take a message?” It’s when they ask me, “Well, when will (s)he be in?” that I have a problem. I want to tell them that I do not know. I honestly have no idea what hours “management” is keeping this week or even for the day. I am not even sure if they are coming in the office today! That sucks. What in the world am I to say?

I understand that people in management positions get certain privileges and perks inherent to an authoritative position, but there is a line between utilizing those perks and abusing them. I believe that line has been crossed time and again. Well, there’s nothing I can do, being of lower importance in the ladder of authority. But be sure that if given the chance to speak freely on the subject, I will speak my mind.

If you are living at my apartment complex, then 99.9% of the time, you are either attending Texas A&M University or Blinn College. This fact automatically lends an understanding of some modicum of intelligence. I would suggest utilizing the intelligence that these establishment’s believe you have, and put your intelligence to people skills.

“Do not bite the hand that feeds you.”

That said, you aren’t going to piss off the server who is bringing you your food. You aren’t going to insult the bouncer that will let you in the bar. I assure you that you will not insult the tailor who is making a dress for you.  So, tell me why you will yell and scream and INSULT the men and women that run your apartment? Do you realize that if we wanted to, we could make your life a living HELL? No, of course you don’t. Because if you did, you would be sending me a cake or giving me a candle instead of calling me stupid and telling me that I’m not fit to be in the position that I’m in. This goes the same for your parents. Parents, newsflash.  YOUR KIDS ARE NOT ALWAYS TELLING YOU THE TRUTH. When you ask if they put the work order in for their sink, and they say yes, but it still hasn’t been fixed. Please expect to be told that your child has never put in a work order. You will more than likely be notified of this AFTER you begin our conversation with a hostile tone and throwing around accusations. I’m not sure if you realize all the things that can go wrong when you’re renting an apartment somewhere. Let me inform you of just some of the unfortunate things that can happen.

1. Your rent checks aren’t ever received by the office
2. Your work orders are lost in the system
3. We saw an illegal pet enter your apartment. Fines are due immediately.
4. Your ethernet has stopped working, and the part needed to fix it is on back order.
5. When you move out, we found your apartment trashed, and have the pictures to prove it.

Obviously, because my apartment complex is extremely well run, and our agents are nothing if not professional, these things will not happen. But, at some point, you children need to start to consider the ramifications of your actions. We are not here for you to stomp and wipe your shoes on. We are here to make sure that the residents are comfortable and that things are running smoothly and efficiently around the property. This is sometimes a strange and tedious tightrope of tasks we have to walk, so it would be very easy for one of our many requests to slip through the cracks.

This is not a threat. This is a small suggestion for everyone who thinks about walking into the office to speak to me in the practiced condescending tone. Please know that the majority of the time, you are wrong, we are right, and therefore, you just made an ass of yourself. Trust me we will remember.

Tags: Frustrated

So, just because of an artbitrary convo I was having with coworker, I decided to ponder a situation that I don’t think is universal in the world of business and part time workers. We know that for the most part, people in my line of work, part-time employee’s specifically, are flaky and do not generally stay in one job for any significant length of time. They come, they go. As quickly as they left the first job they’ll leave the next, and so on until they are put into the real world and it’s time to settle down. Well, everyone who started working when I started working are still there. We are all still there, except for ex-Worker Bee G. who graduated and obviously took his A&M degree to bigger and better places. We all will do the same thing, when presented a better suited and more lucrative job. But aside from that, we have all stayed in the same place for almost a year and half. We have long since figured out our place in the office, and we have also figured out our places in the lives of everyone there. What in the world is going to happen when one of us leaves? Yes, I know. We’ll hire someone else, they’ll do the same job that person did. A part time worker is dispensable. But a friend isn’t. I realize now that I’ve gotten so comfortable in my coworkers/friends that I am scared for the next person that comes in and tries to fill their shoes. Admittedly, I don’t like change. Once I get comfortable with something, I will not change it unless there is dire need or there is something much more amazing to be obtained through it. I know that with everyone at the office being either a Junior or Senior, time is running out, and it will happen soon.

Dang if these people haven’t become a pillar in my life. My friends, my fellow worker bee’s have become the pillars in my life, the one thing that doesn’t change with the season, school year, or drama. It kinda feels like I’ve dipped my pen in the company ink for so long that I don’t have any color left in my pen except for the one I’ve been dipping in for almost a year and a half. 

Imagine you have a snow white pen, and in front of the white, virginal pen is this big vat of ink. Simply for dramatic purposes, let’s make it red ink. Day after day, hours upon hours, you dip that absorbent pen into the red ink. It only makes sense that the dominant color in the pen is going to be red. So, when you take out the red and have to start over with a new purple mix of colors, it makes sense that it would take a long time for the pen to adjust to a new color mix.

Corny, yes, but doesn’t that illustrate my point that starting over now with new workers would take some serious adjusting? I’m not good at adjusting. I’m not good at change. Even though I know it’s going to happen at some point, I’m going to continue my “Ignorance is Bliss” lifestyle and I’ll let you know when that mentality fails me.

One of the most difficult balancing acts of our generation involves work and play. A recurring theme in my writing is going to be how to balance work, or an issue at work, with play, or an issue with my friends/social life. Keeping that in mind, how do I balance my relationship with someone at work and balance that same relationship in a social setting? Even worse, how do I balance that relationship when I don’t agree with their actions in one venue or the other. For instance, one of the Worker Bee’s isn’t doing their job. Say, they are taking special liberties that other Worker Bee’s wouldn’t even consider, they are leaving the office early and coming back late from lunch, they are not completing their required jobs. How do I, as a friend and a co-worker, bring their inadequate performance to their attention without offending either parts of them? Would it be better to let someone in higher authority take care of it? Or would it make more sense for me to come to them as a friend and let them know? I like to think myself close enough to most of my friends/office staff to be able to have a candid conversation with them and not have to sugar coat my every word. 

So tell me, which persona do I portray when I need to be critical of someone? The co-worker or the friend?

There’s always “that” person that comes in the office and says/does something, and they have no idea how much joy we get out of their situations. A girl who we shall call Kat-girl comes into the office. T. askes if she can help Kat with something, and here’s what goes on afterward.

“Oh, no. I must speak with a-a-a MANAGER! I cannot say this to you, it is so shameful!” Says Kat.
“What can I help you with, Kat?” Asks J., the assistant manager.
“I need to file a problem..”
Confused, J. asks, “Do you mean a complaint?”
“Yes, yes that’s it. A complaint. You see, I have problem. My neighbors are loud.”
“Oh well that’s something we can easily take care of! If you’ll just tell me…”
“NO! You don’t understand. They-well-they are loud when they…have relations,” ending on a whisper. “And it hasn’t been just once. No, no, they are loud when having relations all the time. They don’t be quiet when I ask them, and when they having parties, it sounds like people are having”-whisper-”relations all over the apartment!”
J. is having a hard time containing his laughter at this point, and says, “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Have you tried calling the police?”
“Oh no!! Where I come from, if you are caught having”-whisper-” relations, they sentence the couple to death! And it is so shameful. They should be ashamed of themselves! Is there anything that you can do??” Her eyes are desperate and pleading at this point. She is completely serious.
“Yes, I will send them a noise violation. Do you want me to be specific in exactly what they are receiving the noise violation for?”
“Yes, please. Make sure to let them know that they are lucky they live in America and have been caught having,”-whisper-”relations here and not my country!”

At any given time during the week, I know exactly with whom I am working, what time they get off, and who comes in to relieve their shift. We are like clockwork. You can set your watch by our comings and goings.  Some may say they prefer this type of certainty and routine in their lives, but if you know anything about me, you’ll know that isn’t the case for me. I am not the most organized person in the world, as evidence by the fact that I lost my debit card on a bowling excursion and lost my keys during a road trip. Organization isn’t my style. I work with two of the other four leasing agents in the office every day. Worker Bee’s S. and W. are the only two people I work with, and we work a lot, therefore we see each other a lot. Now, don’t get me wrong when I elaborate on the point I’m trying to make, because I adore both of them, but how about a little spice? I know that our schedules are dictated by our schooling, but sometimes I need something to waken my senses out of the deep slumber that education and work have put on my college life. I have the same routine day in and day out, and in the spirit of routine, I see the same people day in and day out. My schedule unaltering. I’m not the only one suffering from this perpetual cycle, and I’m certainly not the last. But every once in a while, I would like a little jump start for my senses. I can’t continue going to work and seeing the same faces and talking to the same people, when only a fraction of those I see are followed by a pleasant conversation. I would like to say I have an idea in mind to cure me and my fellow co-workers from this persevering ennui, but nothing has come to mind as yet. We believe a night of utter debauchery and deviance is what the doctor prescribed, but it has yet to cure our cravings for something bigger, better, faster, crazier.

So what’s an over-worked, over-studied, BORED as hell girl to do? It’s difficult to say when the major source of inspiration are your friends and a white boxer named Shiner Bach. The difficulty comes in when my friends are my co-workers, facing the same dilemma as me, and my boxer can’t speak and just wants to cuddle. The prescription is something new, fun, and exciting. Something we haven’t even considered yet. Until then, debauchery and deviance will have to suffice.

I come in contact with a minimum of 300 people per week, and granted, this is through all different mediums. Telephone, e-mail, fax, in person, you name it I’ve done it today. I’d like to call this my 6 degrees of separation via the office. When I talk to one person, that person is a roommate of someone I have a class with, this person is friends with a friend of a friend in my Howdy Ags Organization (Whoop), and in great instances like tonight, they are the referees of my intramural volleyball game, and subsequently T. and I kicked some serious “Underwood” bum. My point is that in a town like College Station, the old adage “it’s a small world” is eerily accurate. Everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows you. For all intents and purposes, you could actually view my office as the Officers of a fraternity/sorority. We know the business of everyone’s living arrangments, we know if they have a dog, cat, fish, lizard, and we even know when they’re illegal. So really, we know a lot about everyone who lives at the complex! There are 826 people living at the complex this year, currently, and I have come in contact with many of them daily. Not just in the office mind you. The girls who live in 1734 frequently see me at the bus stop. A guy in 1111 hooked me up with some great seats for the football game, thanks again! Even a girl who came to get a package that she thought we lost, is in the class I began this blog for. So they’re everywhere. Best example lately has to go to the girl I saw tonight. She lives in 313, and was the referee for my volleyball game tonight. During warm up, I ask T. if this girl lives at our complex, and she says she doesn’t know. However, I’m not convinced. I get to the referee to do the coin toss, and she asks me if she knows me. Yes. You do. You live at the ^$@!^! don’t you? Yes! “Oh girl, I’ve been meaning to come up to your office to talk to y’all about some stuff…” Then going into an explanation of what her issues are. It seems as though the company ink is trailing to my volleyball games now…