View From My Apartment 20
This is just a quick one…
…So. I have a job. Some of you may know about it, others may not. It’s a rather silly job as jobs go. I update the rolodex of a CEO of a major corporation. I won’t say who, because that wouldn’t be right. Let’s just say it’s an AMazing EXperience and leave it at that.
Basically: I go through the rolodex and call and confirm the information is still up to date.
This job affords me some time to think.
Which I guess is ideal. Though, what would be trully ideal would be the view that is right outside my door: All of Manhattan. But…no. I get an office with no windows.
But I have time to think.
And one of the things that I was thinking about was things I’ve said in job interviews. One thing pops to mind and it’s particularly relevant to the job I have now.
I have said, “I like the office environment. It’s a good fit.”
Now. Let’s be honest. I was lying. Of course I was lying. Who FITS an office environment? I was lying because I want the job…not because I want to update rolodexes, but because I want the pay check.
Who fits an office environment? And I’m not talking about the people who are doing something they care about that happen to work in an office, I’m talking about the paper shufflers, the phone answers, and the copy makers…Why, why, why?
I guess it’s the paycheck too.
I have had some office jobs that really are about collecting paper from a group of people, putting into one form and then sending it out to a different group of people. I am just a funnel. Well. No. I’m the guy that operates the funnel that is the computer.
And when this world becomes paperless…I’ll be doing the same thing, just not touching paper, which sort of further removes me one more step from reality.
I don’t know for certain what the people on my floor do. I know they answer phones. They take messages. And I see them typing. But I don’t know WHAT they are typing. The whole floor, save for the executives are just made of Admins. But what are they doing in there, in their offices and cubicles?
Me? I’m calling two thousand names asking: Is this you? Is this still your number? Do you still live here? And what exactly is YOUR job title?
It’s a living.