It’s been in the works for three months now. This picture to the right is a lot of things, but I like to think of it as tangible evidence that I’m trying my gosh darn hardest to move away from what a journalism professor spat at us in class, “You guys know nothing; you all have just a subsidized life anyhow.” (How’s that for inspirational academic advice? )
Well, not anymore buddy. Yours truly is now is allowed to use the professional e-mail signature “Library Specialist II.”
The title gives it a way cooler sound of grandeur in my mind that what it actually entails. Essentially I’m just just a lower rung assistant archivist, but “specialist” gives it a ring that I’ll be cavorting around the stacks Metal Gear Solid style while brandishing a staple remover.
Even if that’s not in the job description, I may still do this anyhow.
I reflected about jobs with my Mom over the weekend and I realized that I have had nine jobs since I was 15. This seems crazy. I worked some jobs for only a couple weeks/months and some I worked at the same time. This though is my first foray into the world of actual 8-5 working stiffs. Finally, an honest day of work…and totally getting special parking perks.
[Having a car for said parking perks…*sigh* Priceless.]
Beyond the parking, which I completely over obsess about in my parking complex (aka “No, seriously, I will knife you if you park there”), I get all this other stuff with my job that I know is supposed to lure me into the working world. I’m utterly lapping it up let me just say.
Let us view – My Office.
Wait, but that’s a…cubicle, yes? With another desk? And no windows?
*starry-eyed reply* But they’re ordering me my own phone and my own brand spanking new computer! Did you see the keys? Just wait until I send campus mail to myself from the English Department!
[Wait, did I say that out loud?]
That’s …your view? No windows at all?
Well, I get to still have my work station I had with Harary. Thereby, windows.
But…it’s so…so…Office Space.
*wags finger* I have not decorated yet. The strangely hokey 1950 film poster of Across the Badlands has to go. Plus R reminded me that I could go with a themed cubicle. I was thinking a Myspace Top 8: Cubicles Edition. Or a shrine to Xenu. I’m weighing my options.
This is where it get completely wacked: I’m understanding the fetching allure of status symbols a bit more now. I, like another classmate of mine, was a bit miffed that non teaching graduate students were not allocated locations in the private cubicle area. I know, we weren’t employed, but we at least wanted in on some of the lurid action we heard faint whispers of – that is, bickering about who shares your station and who is just way too loud about their personal happenings.
This translated in my mind how there was crazily poetic orgies in the bathrooms, with them pulling out secret bean bags at night and smoking a bit of the ganja.
But now – the glory is mine! [Insert cackle.] Do I have to share my cubicle? No! Do I have a computer and phone provided to me? Yes! Do they have secret side doors? No! Do I get a handful of keys, one specifically for the elevator? Yes!
Woo! [In other news, Area Woman realizing her pathetic nature and just shrugging.]
I’m sure someone is reading and thinking, ‘Big whoop, a dinky office with a set of keys [But… but…Elevator KEYS!], but lands almighty I don’t care. I’m taking in stride because I know I’m also the kind of person who truly relishes that she’s created a easy system of sorting ten boxes of correspondences alphabetically without leaving her chair. A Lego mindset for the real world, beat that.