Finally changed the blogroll part, whoopee. At least something’s done.
So, let’s see.
The dogs are doing great. I somehow managed to blow my grandparents’ minds when they came over. I blew their minds with fast typing and not having to look at my fingers (I haven’t had to look down at my fingers when typing out words for well over a decade, and yet, they are still amazed). I blew their minds with my awesome Google-Fu skills (because it is so hard typing in what they’re looking for into a search engine.) Though, thanks to the batteries in the wireless keyboard, or my own fast typing, I somehow managed to bring up an Ask.com search engine that has a Shakespeare bust caricature as its mascot. Fascinating.
I finally managed to get in touch with the 401(k) people to see if they sent me the wrong paperwork. They did, and the lady oh-so-helpfully informed me that I need to “get in touch with the former employer” to have my birthday fixed to the correct date. I informed her they were supposed to do this twice, once with direct deposit and once when they set up with 401(k). I did not inform her that they did not give me the information needed to make sure the 401(k) was not set up. I told her that I don’t consider them to have an abundance of brains and she did the awkward laugh. Booyah. Mal quote and I weirded out some chick. Go me. Now to fill out the necessary paperwork with a post-it stating “fix my birthday jackass” on it, mail it to them, and bug the shit out of HR to make sure they actually send it to the 401(k) people. Why is this so complicated?
Still applying for new places. I called one place to “check the status” of my application and was informed, by a very awkward girl, to call back after 3 pm because that is when the, I’m assuming, hiring manager will be available. I thanked her because she gave me the woman’s name and she was cool. I called back around 3:30 pm and got out: “Hi, my name is ____. I put in an application the other day and–” And was promptly interrupted. The woman asked me if I supplied contact information, I stated yes, and she told me if they were interested, they’d contact me back and hung up.
I loathe being interrupted. Not so much as in an interesting conversation kind of way where sometimes you get so into the conversation you’re talking back and forth and someone interrupts to put in their two cents. Usually when this happens, we eventually get back to the original topic. But I can’t stand being interrupted when I’m attempting to relay important information or even trying to get a greeting out.
It’s one thing to be like “Oh hey, did you hear about *this*?” And someone chimes in with yes, no, or something different. But it’s something entirely different when it’s like “Hi, my name is—” and interruption with something stupid. Or:
“Hi, may I help–”
“I want *this*”
“*This* is available at–”
“That’s all I want.”
“Ok. Are we going to–”
“My card is–”
“Sir/Ma’am, I need to verify–”
“My number is ****”
And on and on and on. This was a constant at the last job I had. Though, some incidents weren’t as bad as others. Sometimes you got whole sentences out, other times you got maybe three words.
I told Jamie what had happened and he pointed out that the person I spoke with should not be allowed in that position and obviously missed the step of “call after putting an application in” while job-hunting. I’m still kind of bothered by it. It’s starting to seem like every time I get in touch with someone, they’re highly unprofessional. I’m going to have to call more places tomorrow to check on applications. I hate calling places (I blame my dad).
And now to go check on Izzy, who has decided to do her high-pitched bark. She must’ve peed her crate. Or she’s demanding dinner. One of the two.