So for the next few weeks, I'm working for a major cordial/bottler of a high profile range of soft drinks - not quite the number 1 but a close second if you catch my drift Although to look at the security around here, you'd think they were bottling Dom Perignon Front door is on an open on bell system, I have to lock down EVERYTHING before I leave. Everyone has a security tag to get in and out although every tag has the name of the company ON IT which I thought a bit stupid "Hey, Gazza, Look just found a (popular brand soft drink manufacturer's) security tag! Let's go nick some (not quite the number 1 soft drink)" Of course I lost mine after a week and have to pay twenty buckaroos to replace it.
There are perks of course. I can help myself to the drinks fridge but I don't actually like it much. The premium drinks aren't available to staff . .especially that energy drink that makes you fly and the other one that has you dancing to heavy metal bands in your lunch break. There is a little Iced Tea or that Water which is supposed to make you smarter.
Anyway. The job is half a day of Admin and relief reception while my partner in crime has a cuppa or a wee. Then reception from 1pm when the other receptionist leaves for the day and whatever admin I can squeeze in between calls, which isn't much.
In the morning I receive some emails with very pretty graphs and spreadsheets noting the sales teams efforts. These I dutifully cut and paste into A3 charts and hang on the wall that nobody ever looks at. Seriously, I could hang the same ones back up again and not a soul would notice. Much to the wonder and amazement of the girl who used to do them, she is absolutely flabbergasted that I can do this in about 20 minutes when it took her hours to adjust margins and change page orientation. Er hello darlin' just cut and paste special into a Word doc as a Metaphile and bring to front to adjust? Apparently that's a stroke of genius. Yeh, imagine, me wicked smaht?
Then there's usually a bit of binding to do. Whenever anyone asks me though I remember that line from "The Craft" and ask them which member of staff they'd like me to shut up with a spell. Seriously, binding can be quite dangerous as I hurt my finger slamming down the guillotine handle and jamming it against the lever for the spirally thingamebobs.
Then I've had to do some really exciting stuff like check serial numbers on PDA's and accessories and ring a few reps to find out why they have so many batteries when the only have one iPhone and charger. So you see, this position is intellectually stimulating and packed with variety and requiring me to dig deep into the gamut of skills I have honed over the past umpty years.
At about 10:30am, I feel like a caffeine hit and wonder into the rather nice canteen where thankfully I can get an espresso, whilst perving at bunch of burley blokes in hi viz vests, hair nets and safety glasses. A rather rotund canteen lady with an enormous rack and netted white hair, grumpily makes me a flat white with one, and laments the fact that I only have a $5 note and she needs change before whining about how hard it is making corned beef and mash for 150 factory workers.
Then there's the big project. An Excel database of contracts, dates, orders and contacts because even though they have a very sophisticated SAP system with provision for all of this information (and much of it already keyed), it seems only a handful of people know how to extrapolate reports so we're going back to the 'old ways'. That sort of takes me through to lunch which at this point in my economic doldrums is a cigarette and a free Iced Tea or Smart Water (God knows I need a litre of that each day) which I hate but . . . hello? It's free!
Then all afternoon on reception, fiddling with the database but mostly signing those funny little courier pads that make your writing look retarded, (What? You didn't expect political correctness here did you?) answering phones, guiding lost fork lift drivers to the right part of the building - one was rather gorgeous - and downing a double Twix at 3pm from the vending machine. No wonder I'm breaking out in zits.
The most exciting part of the day happens from about 4:30pm when the Startrack dude comes to pick up the overnight envelopes. Yeh, he's cute, and chatty (Hmm seem to have a penchant for cute and chatty). Then, I lock the fridges and the storeroom because apparently if it isn't nailed down it will take flight, put the console on 'night mode' and trundle home.
So that's it. . . kinda sad innit? Over 50 jobs applied for, 5 rejected, the rest unanswered or in the process of being short-listed and me . . surrounded by huge stainless steel tanks of tonic water and creaming soda.
Soda soda everywhere and not a drop to drink. But I'm very helpful . . .