i just had a talk with folks back home. nitukar nasad sakit ni _________. makasapot! i just hate being pressured with things not so important and less significant even to her.
i lost my patience. i was having a wonderful time greeting the people dear to me happy birthday. then there she was, spoiling my wonderful moments. all for nothing but just the mere cause of sud-an...!
i lost my patience and broke down. she just can't understand what a person had to go through because of her nonsense requests! totally irritating and annoying.
kunsabagay, she's not my realy mother anyway... she's the least i have. unlucky me! i have to put up with her nonsense! this makes me miss my real mom so much!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
FRIDAY MIDNIGHT IS…
(an update on the previous post)
So these stupid recruitment people told me to come back on Friday at midnight. Shit!? What the heck is Friday midnight? I went out murmuring the phrase over and over again until I reached the parking area. Shit! Fuck! What the heck is Friday Midnight? And why the fuck didn’t I clarify this with that bitch? This bitch wasn’t the powertripper. This bitch was the one administrating the test and the one who informed me to come back on Friday midnight. The only thing I managed to ask her was do I have to bring anything? She said with a smile, “nothing, just yourself and a smile”. Fuck that phrase.
I found out about their job hiring in the classified ads including the phrase: bring your resume and a smile at… (other hiring info).
Fuck that phrase: these bitches barely smiled at their applicants! They weren’t intimidating—if that’s what they were trying to achieve, nor were they authoritative in that sense at all. at least that’s what they are to me.
I feel a little arrogant for telling all these rants about the only company I could work for in who-knows-for-how-long...or short. This is the only call center my husband ever approves of me working in.
Before we agreed that I get to go back to work, we made some compromises: the area or the company should be accessible and safe for graveyard workers.
Safety.
Being a very protective husband, he just wants to make sure that the company’s location has lively surroundings at night (talk about 24/7 establishments, fastfoods and all). He doesn’t want me wandering in dark alleys (such is the location of my previous company) looking for food during lunch breaks. He makes sure that whenever he would wait for me to get off from work he’d be anywhere where food is easy access.
As paranoid as he is, he wants a police station nearby where I work at. Indeed there is and it’s one of those well-maintained police stations in the city.
Accessible.
This one here also is accessible to his office and the most prominent hospitals in this side of the country. Malls are also within walking distance and a few-minute ride you’ll get downtown. I, too thought of no location ever better.
Less temptation.
This one should’ve been not included because I for one am such a kill joy person. I am that someone who doesn’t know how to party AT ALL. I am a home buddy, couch potato-lurker-type of a person. I am really not into nightlife, even more now that I am married. I am just boring to most and reserved to some. But I am just lazy. That’s why. I just love R and R. I am pretty laid-back who cares nothing about the world and just do my thing to get the things I want and R and R even sooner. But this one right here is a walking distance from this side of the town’s party capitol. But then again, this one probably has the farthest location from nightlife bars among all other call centers here in the city. So he should R and R as well.
R and R.
This one right here, too is very, very close to all kinds of R and R treatments in this city. A few strides from the office and you’ll be in for a dry traditional thai massage—an all-time fave of ours. Just another really short-ride down the town is another zen-inspired spa. A couple of blocks ahead and you’ll be in for another type of spa—a rather high-end one. The list could go on and on.
And so is this is list of reasons why this company still fits our taste awesomely despite the despicable staffs I had to put up with. I could live with that because I, too would work hard for the money.
*************
so I was told to go back on Friday @ midnight. What the heck is Friday midnight? The one between Thursday and Friday or that between Friday and Saturday? The latter should be staurday already because I tested my phone’s time: set it at 1158pm and wait till it strikes 1159pm and check out the date and day after a minute. So, when it’s 1159pm of Friday, 1200 (which is midnight) is already Saturday. Thus, making it the first hour of the day (Saturday). Then I figured out that I’d just go there on Thursday, a few minutes before midnight. Unless they’d be shitty and make a fool out of me—stupidly correcting me that they meant Friday midnight as Friday and then 1200am. Shit, they’ll gonna be pissing my shit off!
This morning, my dilemma over Friday midnight’s over. They texted me in rather unprofessional sort of way (shortcutting words the txtng way, so jologs) that they wanted to invite me for a client testing/interview tonight (Thursday in my time)and then I had to acknowledge their text, so they say. After just a split of a second, another text came in from same sender telling me to disregard the previous text and come for the same purpose on Friday at 1130pm. acknowledged the text and moved on with life. Dilemma is trashed.
So these stupid recruitment people told me to come back on Friday at midnight. Shit!? What the heck is Friday midnight? I went out murmuring the phrase over and over again until I reached the parking area. Shit! Fuck! What the heck is Friday Midnight? And why the fuck didn’t I clarify this with that bitch? This bitch wasn’t the powertripper. This bitch was the one administrating the test and the one who informed me to come back on Friday midnight. The only thing I managed to ask her was do I have to bring anything? She said with a smile, “nothing, just yourself and a smile”. Fuck that phrase.
I found out about their job hiring in the classified ads including the phrase: bring your resume and a smile at… (other hiring info).
Fuck that phrase: these bitches barely smiled at their applicants! They weren’t intimidating—if that’s what they were trying to achieve, nor were they authoritative in that sense at all. at least that’s what they are to me.
I feel a little arrogant for telling all these rants about the only company I could work for in who-knows-for-how-long...or short. This is the only call center my husband ever approves of me working in.
Before we agreed that I get to go back to work, we made some compromises: the area or the company should be accessible and safe for graveyard workers.
Safety.
Being a very protective husband, he just wants to make sure that the company’s location has lively surroundings at night (talk about 24/7 establishments, fastfoods and all). He doesn’t want me wandering in dark alleys (such is the location of my previous company) looking for food during lunch breaks. He makes sure that whenever he would wait for me to get off from work he’d be anywhere where food is easy access.
As paranoid as he is, he wants a police station nearby where I work at. Indeed there is and it’s one of those well-maintained police stations in the city.
Accessible.
This one here also is accessible to his office and the most prominent hospitals in this side of the country. Malls are also within walking distance and a few-minute ride you’ll get downtown. I, too thought of no location ever better.
Less temptation.
This one should’ve been not included because I for one am such a kill joy person. I am that someone who doesn’t know how to party AT ALL. I am a home buddy, couch potato-lurker-type of a person. I am really not into nightlife, even more now that I am married. I am just boring to most and reserved to some. But I am just lazy. That’s why. I just love R and R. I am pretty laid-back who cares nothing about the world and just do my thing to get the things I want and R and R even sooner. But this one right here is a walking distance from this side of the town’s party capitol. But then again, this one probably has the farthest location from nightlife bars among all other call centers here in the city. So he should R and R as well.
R and R.
This one right here, too is very, very close to all kinds of R and R treatments in this city. A few strides from the office and you’ll be in for a dry traditional thai massage—an all-time fave of ours. Just another really short-ride down the town is another zen-inspired spa. A couple of blocks ahead and you’ll be in for another type of spa—a rather high-end one. The list could go on and on.
And so is this is list of reasons why this company still fits our taste awesomely despite the despicable staffs I had to put up with. I could live with that because I, too would work hard for the money.
*************
so I was told to go back on Friday @ midnight. What the heck is Friday midnight? The one between Thursday and Friday or that between Friday and Saturday? The latter should be staurday already because I tested my phone’s time: set it at 1158pm and wait till it strikes 1159pm and check out the date and day after a minute. So, when it’s 1159pm of Friday, 1200 (which is midnight) is already Saturday. Thus, making it the first hour of the day (Saturday). Then I figured out that I’d just go there on Thursday, a few minutes before midnight. Unless they’d be shitty and make a fool out of me—stupidly correcting me that they meant Friday midnight as Friday and then 1200am. Shit, they’ll gonna be pissing my shit off!
This morning, my dilemma over Friday midnight’s over. They texted me in rather unprofessional sort of way (shortcutting words the txtng way, so jologs) that they wanted to invite me for a client testing/interview tonight (Thursday in my time)and then I had to acknowledge their text, so they say. After just a split of a second, another text came in from same sender telling me to disregard the previous text and come for the same purpose on Friday at 1130pm. acknowledged the text and moved on with life. Dilemma is trashed.
Cold Feet and Job Application Blues
So as expected, I was asked in the job interview what happened at my last call center job. I have thought of my answer for this question way before I sent out applications. I knew this would come because I would ask same question should I become a recruiting officer and encounter someone with same situation as mine. I have even practiced the answer to this question with friends and random strangers who innocuously engage in small talks (e.g. during long rides towards hometown when visiting folks). So I am pretty sure that whenever I am asked this question again, I’d be confident to give out my most honest answer. I got married and since my husband earns way more, I sacrificed and prioritize on getting knocked out by husband, adjust to the new life, organize and reassess priorities including my career advancements. But job interviews aren’t always a walk in the park for average individuals like me. my husband was confident that it would just be breeze for me and that I just panicked. But honestly, I really got cold feet and almost backed out. I managed to look for reasons to serve as my inspiration and drive me to motivation so I would forget my anxieties over this. I just thought of my parents how they would struggle again financially over the next few months. I prayed hard the interviewers won’t make a fool out of me.
I prepared for this.
My husband even prepared with me. He cleared his day so he won’t get tired of driving me towards the venue. I was really nervous that night. I kept on sighing and fidgeting. I know my husband was annoyed by me that time because he couldn’t concentrate on his driving. But he let it pass this time. Instead, he constantly gave me reassuring comments. I was glad and happy that he had finally allowed me to work and even supported me all the way but I was just really nervous.
We got there a few minutes late but they didn’t care. There were applicants sitting by the outside of the office waiting for their cue to come in. I had myself registered and signaled my husband that I am going to be OK. He went downstairs to grab something to eat. I didn’t eat dinner nor take anything at all. I was too nervous to chew some food. I could even feel my lower lip shaking as if the temperature was so low and im freezing to death. My hands were sweaty and my knees were shaking a bit as well. I so wanted to go back home and rather have my night sleep, resting my back against the soft bed and care about nothing at all except on what to do in the house the next day.
The chatter of my fellow applicants and their awkward English accent calmed me a bit until I talked to some of these fellow applicants who were actually years younger than me –both by age and working experience. So I , again, spilled out my “why I resigned from PS” stuffs. I managed a consistent answer because I was somewhat calmed.
The first batch of applicants were done with their testing (the first step in the application process). The second batch were called, including those who were my new acquaintances.
The first batch applicants were quiet about the test. My feet got cold again and sweaty. My stomach was rumbling and I got muscle aches all over my body. I felt so stressed.
When one of my new acquaintances finished first and went out of the office I got relieved because he told me what the test was about—English (grammar and reading comprehension). I didn’t bother to ask when more of them went out as they are finished with theirs as well and 3rd batch was called. I was one of them. We were assigned each a station.
During the application process, candidates would go through that English grammar and reading comprehension test—I got 141 out of 150. What a shame. The exam was just easy and me being a major in English graduate, having taught in a prime school here in the city and have worked in a contact center before (where quality analysts grade every phone transaction made). And I didn’t manage to get a perfect score. Not even just 5 mistakes. I swear the exam was just easy. You just have to answer the entire test in 20 minutes and the test was not even 150 items. More like 80 items worth 150 points because of doubled points somewhere. I bet I missed out somewhere in the reading comprehension: asked what jerry Seinfeld have his audiences often do…I didn’t know really and none of the choices ever made sense to me so I just choose the best I could come up with and apparently it wasn’t the right answer. I was sure of the rest though.
I thought I should read even more and educate myself with various stuffs even more.
So I moved on to the next level…err, next step: interview. I was eager for the interview now that I have gone inside the office and kind of compared their office to the one I had before. This one’s really a least strict one. I was relieved but not confident. Finally, my turn was up.
Interviewer: so you’ve worked with (previous company) for almost a year, why did you resign?
Me: *smiles* I got married, my husband did not approve of the schedule, asked me to devote my time on building our family and I agreed. So I quit the job and stayed home for some time.
Interviewer: *smiled, too* So you’ve worked as a teacher from (_________), what did you do after it?
Me: So, yeah I worked as a part-time substitute English teacher for almost a year as well and because I wasn’t really into teaching in a low-paying high school, I did not re apply for a regular position. I couldn’t take politics especially with those old high school teachers. So uncool. After that, I just stayed home. Just stayed. *unconfident to elaborate*
Interviewer: where would you see yourself three years from now?
Me: hopefully, when I get hired, I’d be one of the trainers or QAs or just team coaching/leading/ supervising. *serious look. Thinking I didn’t want to be where he’s now. boring for me. I’d rather floorwalk agents and terrorize their ass off to get good surveys*
Interviewer: *seemed satisfied with my answer**thinking, maybe, I was a dork for not wanting his position*I think your position is boring, dork!* How much are you expecting to earn?
Me: About (_____) or something. I’d love to get hired no matter how much your regular rate is. I am so looking forward in excelling myself here—something I regret not doing before.
Interviewer: *smiling and nodding while head down on my CV to look for more info to scrutinize* uhm…if there’s anything about you that is work-related that you want to change, what would it be?
Me: *shhh…t! I haven’t thought of this! What will I answer?damn.* uhm…I guess being too honest. (damn! What did I just say?shhhh…t!) uhm… I hate being too honest and not able to make good alibis. Like this one time where I used to work before and you know when we empathize too much we sympathize to our customers and would really go that extra mile to help them but can’t really because your hands are tied by the rules (of the client)? Well, I pretty much screwed up one time and told this customer that she had to be really mad and threatening so I could escalate her call to our csa and get what the dollar she wanted back. I didn’t get a memo from the csa but I did get reprieved by my ever good TL. So, I really2 want to come up with a good alibi or excuse the next time. I want that to be changed. (silently screaming at the top of my lungs “damn!” I wish I hadn’t said that. it’s so lame. I could’ve just said I wanna improve my communication skills…improve my vocabulary…achieve coherence in my writing composition without any struggle at all or just anything but that! honesty?damn!damn.)
***********************
The interview indeed with me awkwardly offered a handshake which he (the interviewer) accepted awkwardly as well (he was not so used to it I, I can tell—he still held his ballpen on that hand he used to accept my handshake offer, wattadork!)
************************
I passed the initial interview. I got listed in one of 3 to wait an hour for the (they say) final interview. It was with their operations manager.
I was last to get called as I was last to arrive among those who get to this step.
Unfortunately, the other girl had real toothache and was just tolerating the pain so she could get the chance of getting hired. (see next story/post)
The first one told me she had to come back tomorrow evening for the client interview and waited for me outside so she could hitch a ride with me home. (it was already 12 midnight and she was alone. We’re not neighbors but her last of the 2 rides she had to take would just be near where we live so we could just drop her at the jeepney stop).
Finally, my turn.
It was in one of the three closed doors earlier. At first I thought these doors behind their lobby were just clinics and equipment rooms but no it’s not. Behind two of these previously closed doors are their bigbies. I went inside the first room, just behind the lobby. In it was this chinky-eyed woman with blond curly long hair and also as healthy (read: fat but voluptuous) as I am. I didn’t know who she was as she never offered an introduction. I felt like a student paying a visit to one of my terror professors in college before. Talk about the dean before Tampus (who’s also terror by all means…may she RIP.jk). I get nervous by a superior’s indifference. The office was rather small with clutters all around. Messy and a sight for sore eyes. She was pretty and she had a somewhat secretary in the office who looked more like a household help who fetches her drinking water and all except that this girl, as innocent-looking as she was on the computer when I got in. I thought she was more like of an HR or one of the special agents as I was told they operate in a different kind of way. But as to why she was doing little errands for the chinita bitch? I don’t really care.
There was no introduction nor was I informed who she was –whether she’s from HR or just one of my potential sups.
So I greeted her and she greeted back. She told and motioned me to sit down to the chair lining up in front of her table facing the wall. Awkward by that position, I instead sat on the edge of the chair and faced her. I was seeking my own comfort hoping to exude some confidence. I wasn’t achieving that. I got nervous by her indifference. She was not intimidating; just bitchy and so uncool for me. I can’t explain why I call her those. I just feel she is. She’s the type who bosses her way all the time. She was like the queen of the damned in this company. The potential power-tripper. Our conversation wasn’t really clear.
powertripper: what happened in (previous company)? you’’ve worked there for a year…
me: *interrupting* less than a year, actually.
Powertripper: …well, almost a year, a little less than a year. You could’ve been a team leader by now?
Me: *felt awkward and smilingly rolled my eyes a bit, saying* maybe but you see, I got (F! I felt more awkward telling her these this time!) married and then I sort of got transferred a newly-formed team which would be like a promotion but would put me back into the night-shift regardless of my priority in the new scheduling. (powertripper interrupting something unclear to my ear). Then my husband disapproved of this considering the location of the (previous company’s) office back then.
I wasn’t really clear when I delivered this answer. Somehow I was hesitant in giving those answers. I felt so stupid having to tell the same lame reason I had already given to one of her slave…err, agents. After all other awkward and unprecise answers, she ended saying…
Powertripper: okay, okay…I don’t mean to pry.
Me: sorry…I don’t take it that way.
Powertripper: *giggling* it’s just not good to hear…
(wtf?! You asked, I just f’n answered! What’s wrong with you…some kind of feminist or something? So what? The heck I care? I am also feminist but that doesn’t make me ignorant of “marriage” stories and all that jazz.)
anyways…
powertripper: *after my some more awkward explanations from me, she said* hmm…can you wait for like 30 minutes for our team captain to arrive? You’re supposed to have a client interview yet but don’t worry, it’s already a sure ball and the client isn’t really intimidating.
Me: uh, okay.sure! iL just be outside. Thank you.
And she replied without looking at me. I felt like an idiot there. I wanted to just go home and rant about them/her when I get home.
***********
I went outside where the other applicant waited for me. I took her outside to talk so the people won’t easily hear our talk. I told her I had to wait for 30 more minutes for the client interview. I just asked her what her interview was really like. No clear answer either. Now I just realize, was I just hazed-minded because I was frantic all the while and haven’t taken a bite of something? Or was this hiring process really f* up so unclearly?
No matter. I instructed the other applicant to please inform my husband downstairs that I had to stay maybe an hour longer for I don’t know how long the client interview will go. I apologize for not being able to give her a lift halfway home. She wished me good luck and bid her take care, good luck for tomorrow and God bless as well.
It was more than 30 minutes before they called me up again. Were they like me— insensible of the time and the person who don’t know them and haven’t been officially hired wait for them? So me! I should change the way I do these to people.
I was interviewed at the same corner where I had my initial interview at. The interviewer was certainly not the client. I felt more pissed that I lost interest and enthusiasm I so had earlier. I felt again like an idiot being given the run around. I was so like “ready” to give up and tell them I know I screwed up in come of my answers in the interviews, but please just give it to me damn straight that I fell short of what you expect out of me based on the resume and that I need to do more interviews as a honing exercise before I face your client. This is what I dreaded most in applying for new jobs. The interviews. I could just take exams, have training and jump on the floor for my first call.
I am so eager to end this lengthy crappy rant and figure out what FRIDAY MIDNIGHT is.
Update on the next post.
I prepared for this.
My husband even prepared with me. He cleared his day so he won’t get tired of driving me towards the venue. I was really nervous that night. I kept on sighing and fidgeting. I know my husband was annoyed by me that time because he couldn’t concentrate on his driving. But he let it pass this time. Instead, he constantly gave me reassuring comments. I was glad and happy that he had finally allowed me to work and even supported me all the way but I was just really nervous.
We got there a few minutes late but they didn’t care. There were applicants sitting by the outside of the office waiting for their cue to come in. I had myself registered and signaled my husband that I am going to be OK. He went downstairs to grab something to eat. I didn’t eat dinner nor take anything at all. I was too nervous to chew some food. I could even feel my lower lip shaking as if the temperature was so low and im freezing to death. My hands were sweaty and my knees were shaking a bit as well. I so wanted to go back home and rather have my night sleep, resting my back against the soft bed and care about nothing at all except on what to do in the house the next day.
The chatter of my fellow applicants and their awkward English accent calmed me a bit until I talked to some of these fellow applicants who were actually years younger than me –both by age and working experience. So I , again, spilled out my “why I resigned from PS” stuffs. I managed a consistent answer because I was somewhat calmed.
The first batch of applicants were done with their testing (the first step in the application process). The second batch were called, including those who were my new acquaintances.
The first batch applicants were quiet about the test. My feet got cold again and sweaty. My stomach was rumbling and I got muscle aches all over my body. I felt so stressed.
When one of my new acquaintances finished first and went out of the office I got relieved because he told me what the test was about—English (grammar and reading comprehension). I didn’t bother to ask when more of them went out as they are finished with theirs as well and 3rd batch was called. I was one of them. We were assigned each a station.
During the application process, candidates would go through that English grammar and reading comprehension test—I got 141 out of 150. What a shame. The exam was just easy and me being a major in English graduate, having taught in a prime school here in the city and have worked in a contact center before (where quality analysts grade every phone transaction made). And I didn’t manage to get a perfect score. Not even just 5 mistakes. I swear the exam was just easy. You just have to answer the entire test in 20 minutes and the test was not even 150 items. More like 80 items worth 150 points because of doubled points somewhere. I bet I missed out somewhere in the reading comprehension: asked what jerry Seinfeld have his audiences often do…I didn’t know really and none of the choices ever made sense to me so I just choose the best I could come up with and apparently it wasn’t the right answer. I was sure of the rest though.
I thought I should read even more and educate myself with various stuffs even more.
So I moved on to the next level…err, next step: interview. I was eager for the interview now that I have gone inside the office and kind of compared their office to the one I had before. This one’s really a least strict one. I was relieved but not confident. Finally, my turn was up.
Interviewer: so you’ve worked with (previous company) for almost a year, why did you resign?
Me: *smiles* I got married, my husband did not approve of the schedule, asked me to devote my time on building our family and I agreed. So I quit the job and stayed home for some time.
Interviewer: *smiled, too* So you’ve worked as a teacher from (_________), what did you do after it?
Me: So, yeah I worked as a part-time substitute English teacher for almost a year as well and because I wasn’t really into teaching in a low-paying high school, I did not re apply for a regular position. I couldn’t take politics especially with those old high school teachers. So uncool. After that, I just stayed home. Just stayed. *unconfident to elaborate*
Interviewer: where would you see yourself three years from now?
Me: hopefully, when I get hired, I’d be one of the trainers or QAs or just team coaching/leading/ supervising. *serious look. Thinking I didn’t want to be where he’s now. boring for me. I’d rather floorwalk agents and terrorize their ass off to get good surveys*
Interviewer: *seemed satisfied with my answer**thinking, maybe, I was a dork for not wanting his position*I think your position is boring, dork!* How much are you expecting to earn?
Me: About (_____) or something. I’d love to get hired no matter how much your regular rate is. I am so looking forward in excelling myself here—something I regret not doing before.
Interviewer: *smiling and nodding while head down on my CV to look for more info to scrutinize* uhm…if there’s anything about you that is work-related that you want to change, what would it be?
Me: *shhh…t! I haven’t thought of this! What will I answer?damn.* uhm…I guess being too honest. (damn! What did I just say?shhhh…t!) uhm… I hate being too honest and not able to make good alibis. Like this one time where I used to work before and you know when we empathize too much we sympathize to our customers and would really go that extra mile to help them but can’t really because your hands are tied by the rules (of the client)? Well, I pretty much screwed up one time and told this customer that she had to be really mad and threatening so I could escalate her call to our csa and get what the dollar she wanted back. I didn’t get a memo from the csa but I did get reprieved by my ever good TL. So, I really2 want to come up with a good alibi or excuse the next time. I want that to be changed. (silently screaming at the top of my lungs “damn!” I wish I hadn’t said that. it’s so lame. I could’ve just said I wanna improve my communication skills…improve my vocabulary…achieve coherence in my writing composition without any struggle at all or just anything but that! honesty?damn!damn.)
***********************
The interview indeed with me awkwardly offered a handshake which he (the interviewer) accepted awkwardly as well (he was not so used to it I, I can tell—he still held his ballpen on that hand he used to accept my handshake offer, wattadork!)
************************
I passed the initial interview. I got listed in one of 3 to wait an hour for the (they say) final interview. It was with their operations manager.
I was last to get called as I was last to arrive among those who get to this step.
Unfortunately, the other girl had real toothache and was just tolerating the pain so she could get the chance of getting hired. (see next story/post)
The first one told me she had to come back tomorrow evening for the client interview and waited for me outside so she could hitch a ride with me home. (it was already 12 midnight and she was alone. We’re not neighbors but her last of the 2 rides she had to take would just be near where we live so we could just drop her at the jeepney stop).
Finally, my turn.
It was in one of the three closed doors earlier. At first I thought these doors behind their lobby were just clinics and equipment rooms but no it’s not. Behind two of these previously closed doors are their bigbies. I went inside the first room, just behind the lobby. In it was this chinky-eyed woman with blond curly long hair and also as healthy (read: fat but voluptuous) as I am. I didn’t know who she was as she never offered an introduction. I felt like a student paying a visit to one of my terror professors in college before. Talk about the dean before Tampus (who’s also terror by all means…may she RIP.jk). I get nervous by a superior’s indifference. The office was rather small with clutters all around. Messy and a sight for sore eyes. She was pretty and she had a somewhat secretary in the office who looked more like a household help who fetches her drinking water and all except that this girl, as innocent-looking as she was on the computer when I got in. I thought she was more like of an HR or one of the special agents as I was told they operate in a different kind of way. But as to why she was doing little errands for the chinita bitch? I don’t really care.
There was no introduction nor was I informed who she was –whether she’s from HR or just one of my potential sups.
So I greeted her and she greeted back. She told and motioned me to sit down to the chair lining up in front of her table facing the wall. Awkward by that position, I instead sat on the edge of the chair and faced her. I was seeking my own comfort hoping to exude some confidence. I wasn’t achieving that. I got nervous by her indifference. She was not intimidating; just bitchy and so uncool for me. I can’t explain why I call her those. I just feel she is. She’s the type who bosses her way all the time. She was like the queen of the damned in this company. The potential power-tripper. Our conversation wasn’t really clear.
powertripper: what happened in (previous company)? you’’ve worked there for a year…
me: *interrupting* less than a year, actually.
Powertripper: …well, almost a year, a little less than a year. You could’ve been a team leader by now?
Me: *felt awkward and smilingly rolled my eyes a bit, saying* maybe but you see, I got (F! I felt more awkward telling her these this time!) married and then I sort of got transferred a newly-formed team which would be like a promotion but would put me back into the night-shift regardless of my priority in the new scheduling. (powertripper interrupting something unclear to my ear). Then my husband disapproved of this considering the location of the (previous company’s) office back then.
I wasn’t really clear when I delivered this answer. Somehow I was hesitant in giving those answers. I felt so stupid having to tell the same lame reason I had already given to one of her slave…err, agents. After all other awkward and unprecise answers, she ended saying…
Powertripper: okay, okay…I don’t mean to pry.
Me: sorry…I don’t take it that way.
Powertripper: *giggling* it’s just not good to hear…
(wtf?! You asked, I just f’n answered! What’s wrong with you…some kind of feminist or something? So what? The heck I care? I am also feminist but that doesn’t make me ignorant of “marriage” stories and all that jazz.)
anyways…
powertripper: *after my some more awkward explanations from me, she said* hmm…can you wait for like 30 minutes for our team captain to arrive? You’re supposed to have a client interview yet but don’t worry, it’s already a sure ball and the client isn’t really intimidating.
Me: uh, okay.sure! iL just be outside. Thank you.
And she replied without looking at me. I felt like an idiot there. I wanted to just go home and rant about them/her when I get home.
***********
I went outside where the other applicant waited for me. I took her outside to talk so the people won’t easily hear our talk. I told her I had to wait for 30 more minutes for the client interview. I just asked her what her interview was really like. No clear answer either. Now I just realize, was I just hazed-minded because I was frantic all the while and haven’t taken a bite of something? Or was this hiring process really f* up so unclearly?
No matter. I instructed the other applicant to please inform my husband downstairs that I had to stay maybe an hour longer for I don’t know how long the client interview will go. I apologize for not being able to give her a lift halfway home. She wished me good luck and bid her take care, good luck for tomorrow and God bless as well.
It was more than 30 minutes before they called me up again. Were they like me— insensible of the time and the person who don’t know them and haven’t been officially hired wait for them? So me! I should change the way I do these to people.
I was interviewed at the same corner where I had my initial interview at. The interviewer was certainly not the client. I felt more pissed that I lost interest and enthusiasm I so had earlier. I felt again like an idiot being given the run around. I was so like “ready” to give up and tell them I know I screwed up in come of my answers in the interviews, but please just give it to me damn straight that I fell short of what you expect out of me based on the resume and that I need to do more interviews as a honing exercise before I face your client. This is what I dreaded most in applying for new jobs. The interviews. I could just take exams, have training and jump on the floor for my first call.
I am so eager to end this lengthy crappy rant and figure out what FRIDAY MIDNIGHT is.
Update on the next post.
I Love Being At Home But I wanna Earn My Own Money!!!
So I had this new job. Great! wait, i don't like the sound of "job".
Let me rephrase it.
So I get to WORK AGAIN. Great! I didn’t have to box my entire life in the interior of our (not) own home. It’s been four long years having to spend hours and days just being alone at home doing routinary household chores. When everything’s done, i am left with nothing else to do, no one else to talk to. I couldn’t talk to our dog. What would you have thought of me? The hours I’d spend at home everyday are mostly spent on sleeping, cooking, eating the dish I cooked, surfing the net to read blogs and meet networking friends---the only socialization outside the family I’ve had in years. Have I not learned to talk before I confined myself in this daily solitary life as a stay-at-home wife, I would be mute and not conversant by now.
I glanced at my pile of laundry needed to be sort out to be put in our cabinet and the pile of dirty clothes to be sorted and listed before sending it off to our fave laundry service. I am the lady procrastinator (and I hope my prospective employers don’t get to read this). I always take my time in doing things. I’ve been my own boss in my own company for so long. So, I don’t get orders, I don’t need to give orders as well. I clean whenever I like. I cook meals whenever I feel like it. I bake and make desserts whenever I am in the mood to do so. I tend the garden whenever I have nothing else to do. We don’t even have a garden now. all we have outside the house is a façade of tall pale green grasses and trashes from neighbors and passers by. Somehow I feel self-pity having to go outside our fence to sweep the trashes they so let the waters carry and deposit in our territory. Students, teachers and other professionals would pass me by in the morning looking down at me with the look and sarcastic smile I could just interpret as something like I am so martyr sticking out with this stingy life when unlike them, I am way younger and have been seen actively working always riding a taxi to work every busy week mornings while they, so pretty with their make ups, fresh wet hair and clean neat uniform wait in the crowd for a jeepney to pull over and would have to run after the jeepney towards the “jeepney stop” because CITOM’s are always there every busy-week morning. They would look at me, very yuppie-like get up calling for a cab just before i’d smell burnt gas. And now, I so look damned in my ragged shorts, baggy shirts, and uncombed dry pony tailed hair smelling sweaty and smeared with earth from pulling off tall grasses annoyingly taking over my garden. I had to struggle myself at bending down to pull some garbage sticking so stubbornly on the earth because they’ve been there when it rained and stuck themselves on the ground when the mud got dried up after the rainy season.
For long we didn’t hire house helpers. We were doubtful if we could handle it financially and the reliability of the helper. For long, we haven’t had any person even from our family invade the privacy of our home. We (my husband and I) both liked it the way it is. My husband and I fight very often before because I always complain at how he handles the budget and how I so wanted to just lay around, give orders. He would complain at the expense it would take. Though, he wouldn’t agree at my request to work again so I won’t get bored, lazy and ugly. After many nerve-racking fights, he finally agreed to having a household help. So we got one –someone we got so lucky having because she was reliable enough in almost everything. She cooks really good, she cleans the house really well, she does the laundry good, she’s quick at doing errands, she doesn’t have to be told what to do. Except one time when I asked her to buy some stuffs outside and one was presto creams peanut butter flavored biscuit and even provided her with a written list of the items to buy. She bought a real peanut butter—the spread contained in breakables?! I just laughed softly at the mistake which was purely out of ignorance anyway. She was from a nearby island and never heard of the kind of biscuit. We only had her for less than 6 months because her stupid parents asked her to go home so she could resume her high school there. I told her to just stay and we’ll send her to the nearest night school together with other helpers but she refused because her parents really insisted on their proposal. I was so mad I didn’t talk to her for days before she had to go home. I became really mean to her and told her that I will only be giving her her month’s salary and would never proved her her fare to go back home. I really liked her because I felt I could really trust her and she said she like being here too because we were friends. I would take her shopping and all. I was so determined to help her not to make that wrong decision of going home. I know how poor they really are. Her parents don’t really have jobs back home. she has 4 more siblings and only one is working aside from her. true enough, when she went home, her cousins who works near here would tell me how frail and dark even more she became. They said she would go to school without having eaten breakfast nor was there lunch as well to eat later on as well. Her mom even left them while they were asleep and they didn’t know where their mom was. Is father would just fish using improvised fishing rod for their food. Her skirt uniform, they said, was just tied so it won’t fall off her waist because she lost so much more weight. I so pity her. she said she really would’ve wanted to come back and work here again but we don’t have any place for her in the house anymore. We had our sofa donated to my husband’s mom and furnished our sala with my husband’s motor parts. It really is like a junkyard in here. *sigh*. And now, I don’t know if she still has her cellphone—she bought one when I gave her a bonus one time. I can’t think of a way to end this so I could move on to my next subject. Perhaps just this: poverty sucks! What else?
******************
This is my first entry for this blog. I followed a friend’s advice—to just pour my heart out. thus, the title for this blog. Thanks for reading.
Let me rephrase it.
So I get to WORK AGAIN. Great! I didn’t have to box my entire life in the interior of our (not) own home. It’s been four long years having to spend hours and days just being alone at home doing routinary household chores. When everything’s done, i am left with nothing else to do, no one else to talk to. I couldn’t talk to our dog. What would you have thought of me? The hours I’d spend at home everyday are mostly spent on sleeping, cooking, eating the dish I cooked, surfing the net to read blogs and meet networking friends---the only socialization outside the family I’ve had in years. Have I not learned to talk before I confined myself in this daily solitary life as a stay-at-home wife, I would be mute and not conversant by now.
I glanced at my pile of laundry needed to be sort out to be put in our cabinet and the pile of dirty clothes to be sorted and listed before sending it off to our fave laundry service. I am the lady procrastinator (and I hope my prospective employers don’t get to read this). I always take my time in doing things. I’ve been my own boss in my own company for so long. So, I don’t get orders, I don’t need to give orders as well. I clean whenever I like. I cook meals whenever I feel like it. I bake and make desserts whenever I am in the mood to do so. I tend the garden whenever I have nothing else to do. We don’t even have a garden now. all we have outside the house is a façade of tall pale green grasses and trashes from neighbors and passers by. Somehow I feel self-pity having to go outside our fence to sweep the trashes they so let the waters carry and deposit in our territory. Students, teachers and other professionals would pass me by in the morning looking down at me with the look and sarcastic smile I could just interpret as something like I am so martyr sticking out with this stingy life when unlike them, I am way younger and have been seen actively working always riding a taxi to work every busy week mornings while they, so pretty with their make ups, fresh wet hair and clean neat uniform wait in the crowd for a jeepney to pull over and would have to run after the jeepney towards the “jeepney stop” because CITOM’s are always there every busy-week morning. They would look at me, very yuppie-like get up calling for a cab just before i’d smell burnt gas. And now, I so look damned in my ragged shorts, baggy shirts, and uncombed dry pony tailed hair smelling sweaty and smeared with earth from pulling off tall grasses annoyingly taking over my garden. I had to struggle myself at bending down to pull some garbage sticking so stubbornly on the earth because they’ve been there when it rained and stuck themselves on the ground when the mud got dried up after the rainy season.
For long we didn’t hire house helpers. We were doubtful if we could handle it financially and the reliability of the helper. For long, we haven’t had any person even from our family invade the privacy of our home. We (my husband and I) both liked it the way it is. My husband and I fight very often before because I always complain at how he handles the budget and how I so wanted to just lay around, give orders. He would complain at the expense it would take. Though, he wouldn’t agree at my request to work again so I won’t get bored, lazy and ugly. After many nerve-racking fights, he finally agreed to having a household help. So we got one –someone we got so lucky having because she was reliable enough in almost everything. She cooks really good, she cleans the house really well, she does the laundry good, she’s quick at doing errands, she doesn’t have to be told what to do. Except one time when I asked her to buy some stuffs outside and one was presto creams peanut butter flavored biscuit and even provided her with a written list of the items to buy. She bought a real peanut butter—the spread contained in breakables?! I just laughed softly at the mistake which was purely out of ignorance anyway. She was from a nearby island and never heard of the kind of biscuit. We only had her for less than 6 months because her stupid parents asked her to go home so she could resume her high school there. I told her to just stay and we’ll send her to the nearest night school together with other helpers but she refused because her parents really insisted on their proposal. I was so mad I didn’t talk to her for days before she had to go home. I became really mean to her and told her that I will only be giving her her month’s salary and would never proved her her fare to go back home. I really liked her because I felt I could really trust her and she said she like being here too because we were friends. I would take her shopping and all. I was so determined to help her not to make that wrong decision of going home. I know how poor they really are. Her parents don’t really have jobs back home. she has 4 more siblings and only one is working aside from her. true enough, when she went home, her cousins who works near here would tell me how frail and dark even more she became. They said she would go to school without having eaten breakfast nor was there lunch as well to eat later on as well. Her mom even left them while they were asleep and they didn’t know where their mom was. Is father would just fish using improvised fishing rod for their food. Her skirt uniform, they said, was just tied so it won’t fall off her waist because she lost so much more weight. I so pity her. she said she really would’ve wanted to come back and work here again but we don’t have any place for her in the house anymore. We had our sofa donated to my husband’s mom and furnished our sala with my husband’s motor parts. It really is like a junkyard in here. *sigh*. And now, I don’t know if she still has her cellphone—she bought one when I gave her a bonus one time. I can’t think of a way to end this so I could move on to my next subject. Perhaps just this: poverty sucks! What else?
******************
This is my first entry for this blog. I followed a friend’s advice—to just pour my heart out. thus, the title for this blog. Thanks for reading.
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