Surprise, I'm still invisible!

Hey all! Let's pretend I haven't been gone for a couple of years. 

Ok?

Ok.

Remember when I was repeatedly called Courtney back my co-workers a few years ago? (See here, here and here.) Wasn't that funny? 

Guess what happened when I opened up an email from my insurance agent this morning?

If you didn't guess that it happened again, you might want to
download the Luminosity app and work on your brain power.
I basically spoon fed the answer to you.

Either I've got an evil twin or doppelgänger that enjoys confusing people and eliciting exasperation from me, or my self-importance got too high and life decided to knock me down a few pegs. Again. I'm going to turn into a small blond girl and go find myself my own Aibileen Clark now.

Minus the racial inequality and civil rights issues. 

Love,

Courtney

Our Wars III: Revenge of the Hick

See what I did there? I'M SO CLEVER!

You know that time I accidentally shot Andrew in the face with an elastic? Well, I don't have to feel guilty about it anymore.

Sidenote: Yeah, I never actually felt guilty. It was hilarious.

We were at the gas station. Andrew was pumping Knuckle's (my car) gas, I was inside paying and Lucy was sitting in the car, freaking out because Andrew was outside of the car and "Oh my God what if he NEVER COMES BACK AND I'LL BE LEFT WITH MAMA AND DAD WILL NEVER COME BACK DAD,DON'TLEAVEMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Sidenote: Lucy's neuroticism clearly comes from my side of the family. Also, yes, we take Lucy everywhere with us either because Andrew can't bear to be without her or he thinks she'll be lonely at home alone. In the case of the latter, we could just fix it if we bought another puppy, Andrew!

By the time I was done paying, Andrew was already back in the car and ready to go. So I walked up to the passenger side, started to open the door, and got sprayed in the face with windsheild wiper fluid.

Sprayed in the fucking face.

With fucking windshield wiper fluid.

It's like time slowed down as I stood there in complete shock: the wiper blades going back and forth, my face and coat getting drenched, the look on Andrew's face as an unending stream of "I'msorry!I'msorry!I'msorry" poured out of his mouth.

After wiping off most of the washer fluid, I got in the car, where Andrew excused his behaviour by explaining that he "thought you were already in the car!"

You can be assured that that excuse didn't fly.

We rode home in silence; Andrew knew better than to try to play country music on the radio in a time like this.

In Case You Thought I was Joking About Being Invisible



 

I really wasn't. 

Proof, motherfuckers.

You know, Courtney only has three different letters than Christine. And four letters out of place.

But the C is definitely in the right place.

 

Two Days Before my Blogiversary, it all Comes Full Circle.

Remember when I created this blog in order to vent out my frustrations that I was completely invisible at my previous job? That, after 5 months on the job, I was called Courtney in a company email?

It just fucking happened.

Again.

At a completely different job, where I have now been for over 4 months, I have received not one, but two packages in the mail today on which I am refered to as Courtney C.

I... I have no words.

The Ass has Relocated

My one year contract as an Ass expired last week, so my Ass ass said bye bye to marketing and hello to job hunting! Luckily, I was able to find another job right away so that, other than three paid vacation days, I never had an unemployed work day.

You are now looking at a brand new Administrative Assistant!

Sidenote: Well, ok, you're not looking at me at all. Just look at the picture of me on the side bar, or picture me in your head. With clothes on, you pervert.

My job title is the same, only I now work for an Environment firm. Or something like that. Whatever it is, a lot of photocopying is invloved. I basically answer requests for information about the environment in our province. That would include information about specific regions, and the events that may have environmentally impacted that region.

Why the Eff is the octopus looking
for orange juice? Is this a common
occurence?

Unfortunately, I'm on contract yet again, and so am only promised work until the end of October.

Now here's some deets about my new job.

• The office is a frigging maze. You know those labyrinths in your activity books when you were a kid? Yeah, its like that. I have to bring my paperwork down to the HR people, but I got lost trying to find them, so I just gave up and went back to my desk. Office: 1. Christine: 0.
• I'm on a short contract because I'm filling in for someone who is on indefinite sick leave. Which means I'm sitting at the desk of someone who's already established here. The result is me, surrounded by family photos and decorations that are clearly not mine. I would pretend they are, but everyone in the photos/paintings/sculptures is Black, and mostly sporting dreadlocks. And let's face it, although I can dance like I got soul, I'm as White Girl as it gets.

  

  GIMME EVERYTHING YOU GOT, TROLLEY LADY!

• In the afternoon, a trolley comes by with snacks. A FUCKING TROLLEY! It's like I'm in the middle of a train ride to Hogwarts. I almost squealed and asked for a chocolate frog. Instead, I just gave the weirdly-difficult-to-determine-age trolleyman an awkwardly huge smile and walked/skipped by him.  I hope I get into Ravenclaw *fingers crossed*
• In our office building, there's a cafeteria. Bonus: they have an awesome salad buffet. Even better: the salad is super cheap! They make you pay by the weight of your plate; while my salad cost $2 without tax, a small bottle of apple juice and a coconut/chocolate chip cookie cost $3.
• SOMEONE'S GONNA GET SKIN-NY! (I sang that part)
• They didn't have much work for me to do on my first day here (the girl with access to the information requests is on vacation today) so I've been mostly looking at wedding stuff. But now, Andrew can't get mad, because I'm doing it for Swizzy. Because I'm a badass M-O-H. HOW DOES IT FEEL, ANDREW?

------------------------
P.S. In case you're wondering how much I need to pay for my salad in Wizarding money, here's a currency converter: http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizworld/galleons.html

Answer: My salad would have cost 3 Sickles and 17 Knuts, tax included.

Surprise! I'm still Invisible! UPDATED: TURNS OUT I'M VISIBLE

Today is Administrative Professional Appreciation Day.


"Marketing, I have a beard.
How can I help you?"

 It's a day to consider those people who answer your phone, update your calendar, book your accommodations and car rentals. We screen calls from annoying people for you, work the photocopying and fax machines (since no one else knows how), and order the navy blue folders for you, because the light blue folders ruin your work flow. We essentially do all the shit you don't want to deal with.

So I got in to work today, walking by another Administrative Assistant's desk. She had a beautiful bouquet full of summer flowers on her desk with a big "THANK YOU" card next to it. The Admin across the hall got a gorgeous potted orchid plant.

Excited, I hurried over to my desk.

Nothing.

All that is on my desk is my name plate, a box of Kleenex and the dog calendar my mom bought me last Christmas.

I guess my team forgot to appreciate me.

If I get a call from a telemarketer or a really exasperating client, I'm forwarding the call. And I'm double-siding all photocopies. SCREW CONVENIENCE, I'M SAVING THE PLANET!

UPDATE! Flowers just got delivered to my desk.


Now feeling appreciated.  I guess I'll keep screening calls then.



Update: I am not Invisible. I am Non-Existant.

So I'm talking to another Admin. Ass at work when this guy Brian comes up to me and starts asking me if I know how to load RFMs into the database. I give him this look.

He then goes on to say "Well, this woman called me asking how to do that and I sent her to you, so you might be getting a call soon. I told her, 'If anyone in this office knows how, it's Jennifer.'" My answer?

"...But my name is Christine."

He then goes from confused, to embarased, to apologetic. Now, here's the thing. He didn't get my name mixed up. He actually thought I was another girl in our office. Apparently, I'm not even good enough to be my own person.

I'm going to make myself a giant name tag now.

Update: I am still Invisible

I just stood in an elevator for a full minute, trying to exit it. Why did it take so long? Cause another woman on my floor started to drive in her giant cart (do I work at Costco or something??), but stopped in the doorway to wait for her friend. I assumed she would eventually notice me standing in the middle of the elevator and eating my tuna sandwich. She did not. I had to say "Excuse me!" several times, until she turned around and spotted me. She seemed to be in such shock that I existed that she just said "Oh!" and stared. We maintained awkward eye contact as I attempted to maneuver around her cart. Which took forever, because she made no attempt to move it out of my way.

Maybe I should come with a siren....