Tag: Work

Humor, Office, Secretary, Work

Crisis Averted

“Ah, Cindy Sondheim, you should have lived in an earlier age.  Things were simpler, less complicated.  Do you know how many women had nervous breakdowns in the fourteenth century?  Two.”
– Love at First Bite

Thanks for all the lovely pick-me-up comments yesterday, darlings.  It was really nice to know how many of you have felt the same way – and as every last one of you have turned out amazing and unbelievably fabulous, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to do the same with a bit more time, a few more naps, and much less stress.

Yesterday was beastly (if you couldn’t tell!).   We’ve heard negatives on some of J.’s  internship applications and are still waiting to hear back on others, which is almost more nerve wracking.

I had to hire a dozen students last minute and despite telling administration multiple times that we don’t have space for any more people, they were still shocked to discover that we didn’t have enough lockers or uniforms/gear for them.  Unfortunately, the ones ending up looking foolish in this situation are your friendly neighborhood C. and Hennessy, who have to explain to several students why they have to cart a pile half as tall as me of gear home with them.

I barely averted a few violations that would have added up to potentially thousands of dollars in fines had I not caught them.

I’d only got four hours of sleep the night before.

So, these and other factors combined into the perfect storm.  Literally!  Just as I was getting ready to go do the laundry run, a massive lightening and rain storm whipped up.  You may recall how often it rains when I do the laundry run, it’s lately become the office joke.  So when I ambled past Susie’s office to tell her I was heading out I glanced our her window and froze.  It was pitch black outside and rain was lashing the pane.

I felt a helpless, hysterical giggle start bubbling up inside of me and a clapped a hand over my mouth to keep it in.  But to no avail!  Both Susie and Wise turned, saw the rain, and started chuckling.  Then Chief poked his head around the corner and grumbled, “Have you done the laundry yet?”

That did it.  I collapsed on Susie’s desk laughing (and nearly crying).  She and Wise joined in, Chief stared at us a minute before retreating to the safety of his office.  When I got home, I put on flannel pants, an oversized sweatshirt, pinned my hair up, and crawled into bed with a book.

All better now.

Humor, Law Enforcement, Office, Secretary, Stupid People, University, Work

Rudeness Most Foul

“The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.”
– Isaac Asimov

Definately human.

The interesting thing about working at a university is how much information, equipment, and expertise is available to you.  So when a plastic bag filled with large bones is found buried on the grounds, it’s the work of a moment to ask someone from Anthropology to come over and verify that they aren’t human.  Just in case.  Or, less professionally, when one is hungry, one can just scamper over to any of the cafes, food halls, or centers that provide sustenance for cheap prices.

Alternatively, using campus resources can often put one in an awkward situation.

In the library there is a very nice media lab where you can covert anything in any format to any other format you please.  Now I’m pretty technologically illiterate, but even I can appreciate that sort of thing.  And for the first time I got to use it yesterday when Lt. Citrus gave me a sack full of VHS tapes and told me to convert them to DVDs.  How neat, thought I, and off I trotted.

I got a crash course in using the towering masses of machinery and, after snatching a book to keep me company (another benefit of a university setting), I got to work.  There was a lot of loading/unloading tapes, keeping an eye on the screens, finalizing data, etc., but mostly it involved waiting for the tapes to run fully (which could last from a few minutes to a couple hours).  And I even watched a couple: guy holding an audience hostage because God told him he was supposed to be supreme dictator or Earth, rioting at football games, your average wierdos…you know, the usual.

However there was some pretty dark stuff too and when converting those I taped paper over the screens (because I am of the somewhat old fashion opinion that an individual’s personal tragedy is nobody else’s damn business).  During these tapes, I kicked back with my book until I was rudely disturbed but a gentleman marching up to me.

You've been recording investigation documents, vital to court proceedure, medical records, and department case archives, for entirely TOO LONG. You will now be punished!

“You’ve been here for a long time,” he accused.
“Yes, and I apologize, but I am working on something important on behalf of the University.  I’m nearly done.  Do you need the machines?”
“No,” he said snappishly .  “I just think you’re being inconsiderate taking up so much time.”
Not really prepared to handle this sort of time management vigilante-ism (side note – not one person had previously needed to use the machines or asked me when I would be done), I only blinked.
“You’re probably not even doing anything remotely important,” he continued, crossing his arms and turning up his nose.  “What are you working on?”
I felt an eyebrow climb at his tone but answered in a chipper voice, “Well I’m transferring a video taken from a homicide scene investigation.  Then I’ll have to transfer the autopsy tapes as well, care to watch?”

His eyes bugged for a moment and then he slunk off.

Like I said, the equipment and resources amassed here are fantastic, but the ability to see some people in all there snippy, self-important silliness might be my favorite part of my job after all.

Humor, School, University, Work

In Which C. and J. Get Wined, Dined, and Lei-d

“We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
– Jane Austen

So, we are right in the middle of what could be arguably one of the most important weeks of our lives.  Certainly at least one of the most stressful for J..

He is interviewing for internships with the Big Four accounting firms this week, he also has two major tests, and tomorrow we’re flying out to California to celebrate the finalization of my brother and sister-in-law’s adoption of our little nephew.

Felt a bit like this, actually.

We went to Firm #1’s reception the other night and I had an interesting time.  Early in the evening the spouses of the interview candidates were shunted off to a different room, meaning that about 99% of the women there were removed.  We all filed into a conference room where a string of partner’s wives were sitting at the front, looking very like the parish’s women’s organization presidency.  And the whole hour continued very much in that vein, which was slightly uncomfortable for everyone concerned.

Then at dinner we were seated at an awkward table, people were either trying to say something extremely clever or were absolutely silent.  However J. got to meet and ask the interviewer some questions and all indications so far are that his interview went well.

ACCOUNTING!

Firm #2’s reception was last night and was luau themed.  Points for food and entertainment as they had Polynesian dancers and pyrotechnics.  There was much fewer awkward silences, and the women weren’t kicked out which was a huge plus as far as I was concerned.  This time we weren’t seated and got to jostle for position to meet with the representatives, again with the requisite attempts to be memorable.  J. interviewed with them this morning, also went well.

Firm #3’s reception is tonight but I will be cleaning our house and packing for California so I won’t be able to report on that, ducklings.

However, a few thoughts!  Last year when they first started recruiting overtures, we were introduced to The Swag.  Sweatshirts, bags, all manner of stationary.  This year Firm #1 gave us a canvas tote and an aluminum water bottle, as opposed to the rather cheapish, fall-apart-as-soon-as-look-at-it ones we got from Firm #2.  But!  Firm #2 pulled ahead when won a raffle prize at their reception, styled as a collapsible cooler, actually more like an over sized lunch box, and we also got real orchid leis as opposed to the cheap plastic kind you normally get at parties.  However due to sheer bitterness, they dropped below pre-reception rankings when the guy called after us won an iPad.  Firms #3 and #4 have only given pens, a shameful showing.

Humor, Work

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

“Perspective is worth 80 IQ points.”
– Alan Kay

Why, why, why do I provoke the fates?  No sooner do I wish for a less insane week and bemoan the stress…than J. calls saying our car won’t start, a massive project that requires a 24hr turnaround lands on my desk, Sav’s computer loses a critical file, I have to imput dozens of photos into a case where someone seems to be trying to fleece the university (in a badly managed con) and…

I get a bunch of files and briefings handed to me.  There was a horrific accident last night, one of the people involved passed away, painfully.

Jaw dropping, major attitude adjusting perspective.  Shutting up.

*Please keep the family in your thoughts, darlings.  Even if we are having a bad day, theirs is far more painful.

Humor, School, Weekend, Work

A New Week and…GAH!

“Alright, just stop panicking.”
“Who said anything about panicking?  This is still just the culture shock.”
– The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

Last week was a trial, kittens.  No question of it.  But J., perhaps sensing my deep inner need to hurt something, wisely diffused me by taking me out twice, once to my favorite restaurant and to see a movie (Easy A. Quite funny.  Go see it).  And so, having lost my initial hatred for humanity, I had very little choice but to be happy and content over the weekend.

This week is going to be much calmer and less interesting…

Oh wait.  J. has three interviews with Big Four firms, we have three business receptions to go to pre-interviews, he’s got two major tests, and we’re flying out to California to celebrate the adoption of our little nephew being finalized.  So, with the exception of that happy last item on the list, this week is going to largely impact the rest of our professional lives.  And of course, J. and I are both coming down with something.

Shut up.

*Breathes into paper bag*

Humor, Work

Life Lesson From a Hellish Work Week:
Vodka. Please. Or death, that works too.

The Ministry of Idiots has been hard at work this week.  See here and here for some light reading on the subject.  We were also yelled at for a substantial amount of time both yesterday and today by two separate nasty people who were teeth-gnashingly enraged that they’d been caught doing something illegal.

There is something in the water, I am sure of it.  I have never experienced nasty behavior on this scale for such an extended period of time.  Everyone in the office is looking a bit worn down and grim, we’re just trying to make it to 5pm Friday at this point.

And so, minions, I leave you with this thought that has been reiterated to me again this week and I wish other people would learn:

“Let me never fall into the vulgar mistake of dreaming I am persecuted when I am contradicted.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Humor, Law Enforcement, Office, Stupid People, Work

Another Myth to Dispel

“Look, I am not stupid.”
– Terminator, 1984

I really am surprised and dismayed whenever it is reiterated to me that the general public thinks our department is staffed with morons.  I don’t know where this idea comes from – that anyone who works at/for a police department has the IQ of a deck chair – but really, can we let it go?

Now I admit, some of the officers aren’t the savviest when it comes to modern work practices regarding inter-gender relations, and common sense in administrative details is somewhat lacking, but I must say that they are damned good police officers.  I’d shift a few personalities around if I could, but I’ve never had any complaints about their actual skills and professional capacities.

So when you call up the parking office, asking us to remove a car from our records because you won’t be driving it anymore, we take pause.  Because, you see, we have access to your state records and your class schedule.  We can see that you live far enough away from campus that walking could be uncomfortable, we can also see that you are sill enrolled in classes.  We also know that, with your student parking privileges removed, the only place your car could park on campus would be a visitor lot.  And we know that you know that parking in visitor lots while still a student is forbidden.  And finally, we are able to guess that a man still enrolled in classes asking us to remove his parking privileges, while living too far away to walk to campus daily, might be trying to find a loophole for parking in visitor lots.

Most vitally, we know that checking visitor lots regularly for people who have already tried this trick hundreds of times, turns up at least half a dozen like minded people a day.  Here’s your ticket.  Also, I have a Twitter friend for you.

We’re not idiots.  And you’re not as clever as you think you are.  We really have seen it all before, and have prepared accordingly.

Fail, Humor, Office, Stupid People, Work

From the Frying Dumb Into the Stupid

“De mal en pire.”
– French saying

Dear World At Large,

Allow me to disabuse you of a seemingly common notion: the internet is not anonymous.  No really, it’s not.  Yes, there are steps you can take to protect your identity and privacy, but anyone who really wants to figure out who is posting those trollish comments at the bottom of a youtube video probably can.

From a police perspective, this anonymity myth is particularly funny.  We’ve had instances with theft that we’ve traced from Craiglist, and abuse of animal carcasses (not as kinky as it sounds) that we’ve tracked from Facebook. The bottom line is, if you do something wrong and then publish photos, accounts, or step-by-step instructions somewhere online, it is really easy to find you and punish you.

So, when a kid shared on Twitter that he was jumping curbs in his car to park in visitor and handicapped parking, it was the work of a mere moment to look up his name on the campus directory, see what car he drove, and slap a ticket on it.  And when he came in huffing and puffing about why he’d got a ticket because “he hadn’t done anything wrong,” it was immensely satisfying to tilt a computer screen at him to display his own confession, broadcast for all creation to see, and watch him turn 12 shades of red.

Truth is, dear World At Large, if you really are so silly as to tell everyone what you’ve done and where you are, do expect someone to show up and hold you accountable.  Because someone probably will.  And if you are really so narcissistic that you have to share every detail of your life, even your petty criminality with us, you have much larger issues to deal with.

Yours with love,
C.

Humor, Secretary, Weird

Who Guards the Guardians?

“Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”
– Juvenal

Several times a week, background investigators come into the office to collect information on former students who have applied for government or high profile jobs.  Most of the investigators are pretty normal and businesslike, but one or two of them make my eyebrows climb.

Perhaps. But not quite yet, it would seem.

One of the, according to the police grapevine, once had a normal 9-5 job and seemed perfectly ordinary, until the day he had a “divine revelation” that there was going to be a massive earthquake that would destroy everything – or something to that effect.  I misremember if this was supposed to be connected to an end-times scenario.  Anyway, based on this “revelation” he quit his job, packed up his wife, food, and probably guns and moved to a cabin in the mountains.  (Sidenote – the mountains?  Usually located on fault lines of tectonic plates?  Really?)  Sadly the appointed day for this catastrophic event came…and went.  Years ago.  So, chalking it up to experience, he moved back to civilization.  He’s a very nice man, very professional, and privately I consider him a harmless sort of lunatic.

Slightly more creepy is Fetish Guy.  One day, wanting to look grown up, I piled my hair on my head and threw on a pearl set me father gave me and felt very country gentry and pretty…until a regular background investigator came in for a check.  He handed me the paperwork and, catching a full look at me, stopped in his tracks.

Um, ok. Back here in reality...

“You’re wearing pearls,” he said slowly.
“Uh, yes,” I said, a bit stupidly.
“I love it when women wear those.”
“Oh.  Thank you.”  Backed away slowly.
Now, every time he comes in he always gives me an uncomfortable glance over and asks where my pearls are because he “really likes seeing me wear them.”

Ulp.

Who, exactly, did the background check on the background checkers?

Humor, School, University, Work

The Freshman’s Lot

“Of course there’s a lot of knowledge in universities: the freshman bring a little in, the seniors don’t take much away, so knowledge sort of accumulates.”
– Abbott Lawrence Lowell

It's alright, dears. This feeling of being overwhelmed is entirely normal. And here's a tip, it doesn't really ever go away.

I swear, every year the Freshmen get younger!  It’s orientation time/first week of school so herds of these infants are roaming across campus with dazed and confused looks on their faces, prodded along by overbearing parents.

These parents are walking their “children” (who are usually 18 and above) to classes, arguing that their little darlings should be able to park in the Provost’s parking space because it’s closer and widdle babykins can’t possibly be expected to walk all the way from the dorms to class, and if they are out of state, calling us in a state of panic because they their kids didn’t answer the phone when they called, and can we send out a search party now?!

We at the University Police department, hate such parents.  We hate even more explaining to them, that if their child has been robbed, accosted, or got a splinter, we actually have to work with the child (who again, is over 18) and not the parents themselves, as said child is a legal adult.  Ooh, they hate that.

All I’m saying is, my parents dropped me in middle America somewhere and bunked off to Belgium.  I got myself to school, into a dorm, registered for classes, text books and supplies , and off to classes in two days, requiring only a ride from Fairy from the airport to campus.