I See... Shit?

You hear these abstract stories about the pretty girl having it easier.  People like her more so she has it easier in life.  I thought this was a fat girl's line.  I thought that was bullshit.  But hey... listen to this fat girl.

Suddenly I'm working beside a runway model (some clear exaggeration should be inferred here) and that line is finding some truth in my eyes.  Suddenly I'm the backseat driver. 

... I'll take care of the paperwork while she works the front lines.  I'll make the coffee so she can hand it out.  I'll crawl under the machine so she can shine from above.

I'm getting sick.  Not that I don't have my own insecurity bullshit to deal with.  But I'm tripping over myself.  I bust my ass for nearly four years... she walks in and in under one year she has them all tickled.  She says... you don't want to look like me, I'm just there to look at. 

Fuck that, I want to shine!  I want to be the prize!  I want the long tan legs that make men stupid and weak.  But the grossest thing to me is that we've submitted to using her.  Send her here, send her there, have her work that event or this one... but be sure to wear your pretty little skirt.  Gag!

I try not to talk about work, but this constant reminder is helping me to break down on a daily basis.  I try not to see all the differences in treatment... but they are screaming in my god damned face!

I'm envious, green, jealous, and I'm making myself sick with it.  If only I felt sick enough to stick a finger down my throat maybe this game of bullshit could be over with.

But maybe it won't ever be... not because I'm fat, short, pale as a ghost, with curls of chaos... but because I'm opinionated, bitchy, passionate, controlling, and overly honest.  I call it like I see it, and as she loves to remind me, you can't do that... we have to treat them like children.  With kids gloves gently caressing their sensibilities. 

I'm too busy stroking my own insecurities.  And this one has me questioning if I want to stay here much longer... because daily I look in the mirror... and I see shit.  Unhappy, unhealthy, negative, gray matter in oblivion.  If I were them... I'd pick her too.

It's The Stupid Machine!

So, here's my current rant...

I went pre-law for a that one year and loved the hell out of the law, but not the crappy prerequisites that came along with the Bachelors degree. So when I decided I should go back to school I wanted it to be short and sweet. I wanted to get the courses I needed and get out as fast as possible. So I went to a technical school to get the Associates and got it over in 18 months. Optimally, is this where I want to be in my life? Hell no!! I, of course, wanted to prove to the world I am more than a damn receptionist. I was going to be an incredibly compassionate attorney knocking down one child abuser at a time!! I excelled in school and I've excelled at every job I've ever been at, so why am I here feeling like I'm treading water at a meaningless-go nowhere kind of job?

I spent nearly three years working at The Bank of New York (Mellon). I worked in securities processing. Internal clients loved me to pieces for my ability to solve any problem that came along and my relentlessly-helpful, bubbly personality. My last week on the job a guy came in and gave me a box of chocolates for all my assistance and support. I liked being liked. I liked even more rocking the socks off my department with my knowledge of the inner workings. I guess my combination of those years and the time I serve here at my present company, I will probably go back to school for something relating to finance and securities.

But until then I am here... answering phones and working all the machines. Sometimes I feel like my day revolves around the mood of the copiers. I fix them whenever they break and assist all my co-workers in understanding the machines' complexities. So why is it the first second I look like I'm pissed off at the machine my older co-worker can't help herself but to run off and get my boss??? Machines absolutely are not difficult, you just have to hit the buttons in the sequence the machine wants you to hit them in. And occassionally the machine gets so confused by what you are trying to manipulate it into doing it runs an error code.

So I'm standing there changing out the ink catridges in my mail machine... Do you want to change the cartridge now? I hit yes. Please remove the catridges and hit continue. I hit continue. Thus far, absolutely nothing is complex! You replace the new ones exactly as you removed the originals. But the machine is refusing the continue command, clearly there is a sensor not picking up the actions. I clear and re-process a few times with no luck. I decide maybe I should just go on without its promptings and it will catch up. Nope, not that either. I obviously look disgruntled, my co-worker looks over my shoulder, "usually the boss does that". Well, I guess out of all the shit to do in my day, I didn't figure I needed to run to my constantly frustrated boss to come over and slam a hammer on the machine to make it do a simple task. I say ever so sweetly, "No, I'm fine, thank you, I'll get her if it's necessary." Really I want to drop-kick the short lady and get her away from my space so I can secretly swear at the machine!

Do I honestly look that incapable of operating this stupid machine? Its got to be the older generation right, if you've never done it before you must never be able to figure out how it works? Well... when I finally broke down and let the short-older lady grab the boss, she sat here for nearly 45 minutes swearing at the machine for me, threatening to call for service on it multiple times. I guess its better she was doing the swearing than I was but honestly, it's the stupid machine's fault for not sensing! :P