My name is ironic.
See, I’m Kasey, and one definition of that name is “brave” or, according to wikipedia, “vigilant in war.” I’m not that, either.
My parents might or might not have looked my name up in 1000 Baby Names or whatever it’s called; in the end all that mattered was the tribute to my great aunt KC. I’ve posted on this before, and mentioned that I really feel more like a Kate.
You could argue, though, that brave and fearless are not necessarily synonymous. In my head brave is filed under “being really freaking afraid of doing the thing, but doing it anyway because it needs or is worth doing.” I’m about 50/50 on that one. Sometimes I sit back and realize that the thing might need doing or be worth doing, but someone else can handle it because I am not equipped for that mess. Brave is finally telling my boss that no, I don’t want to go permanent at my job because I might very well be perfectly competent, but I’m just not satisfied enough to spend the next couple years plugging away at invoices just to keep my resume from looking like I drop jobs on a whim. Fearless is throwing caution to the wind and walking out at lunch like a coworker did a few months ago after a particularly passive-aggressive diatribe from our permanent coworker that was couched as constructive criticism; I was just as mad, but I’ve got bills and loans and a new(er) car to save for.
So maybe I’m not fearless. And maybe that’s a good thing. I do need to get on the bravery thing, though. My boss is waiting for an answer, after all.
Tomorrow’s my first day at my new job; technically, it’s my new temporary-indefinite-but-probably-permanent-unless-I’m-just-dreadful-at-it job that a very obliging staffing agency found me. I spent almost two months job hunting on my own, got exasperated—and slightly desperate when recruiters kept getting stuck on the fact that I have a master’s degree—and signed up at a staffing place that specializes in administrative/clerical placements and has pretty good reviews on multiple sites. Then BAM! Lucked into an assignment that seems like it’ll be a really good fit less than 24 hours after finishing a fuck ton of paperwork.
Basically, I get to double-check that computers have pulled the right information from invoices in the company’s A/P department so they can be sent on for payment. From the way they described it in my interview, it’ll be a chance to A) get away from customer service, which is a HUGE FUCKING PLUS and B) wallow in nitpicky little detail work eight hours a day. Plus, I now have a legitimate reason to make business cards with the following job title:
Empress of Invoices and Master Captcha Cracker
(I might or might not have actually browsed layouts for said business cards last night.) Plus, I get to wear my own clothes and work in a smaller department that has some fairly good prospects for moving up into the company itself. It also doesn’t hurt that I’ll be making three dollars an hour more than I was at the hotel. Seems like a pretty fair trade for not getting to wear my piercing at work anymore. I know it’ll get tedious, but I tend to thrive in tedium. See y’all on the flip side!
Brain is dead. Dead, dead, D-E-D, dead.
Work is still insane, which is why I’ve been so heavy on the Wordless Wednesday posts rather than written content. Once things have calmed down a bit, I want to add another day .
Anywho, my boss finally managed to snag someone from front desk to be our fourth coordinator—my other coworker’s recovering from some really hardcore surgery and probably won’t be back ’til December at the very earliest. We both actually wanted someone bright-eyed and new to the hotel, but my boss is a thousand times busier than I am even when we’re not understaffed, so neither one of us would have the time to train anyone to use our complete clusterfuck of a system on top of learning how to do the job itself. Dunno how much the Powers That Be paid for this program, but it was too much.
I’ve worked with the girl she chose before, and she’s nice enough, but she’s also the only person about whom I’ve ever said, in genuine Southern style, “Bless her heart…” Cross your fingers she’ll shine and totally rock the house down once we get her settled in.
Completely unrelated but still awesome: there’s a little boy playing with his grandparents on the hill in front of my apartment building and he is clearly having the time of his life. I’ve not heard this much unbridled, belly-laughing joy in ages. Grinning ear-to-ear at the moment.