So I'm assisting a local woman who is managing a huge employee survey. Specifically, she has been subcontracted by a huge Survey company to provide Help Desk service for a survey being conducted by a huge international firm. There are a number of standard, approved messages that address a number of requests/situations, and because the company is international, they have been translated into Spanish, French, German, Italian, Portuguese, Polish, Czech, Japanese, and Chinese.
When we get a messsage in another language and can't figure out what it means, we use an online translator. So far, Chinese provides the most amusing results, such as:
"Hello and greetings for your valiance! Sadly, the word is tired. I am the company dandelion!"
They have misplaced their password, and need it sent to them. Obviously.
While we are sending responses, the woman's voice-over work is also going on, so native speakers of other languages appear to record lines for voice-mail phone trees. So it was recently that I found myself keeping a pair of fraternal twins (yes, it's a theme) occupied for a German woman while she made her recording. When they arrived, the boy asked me in German if he could sit on the porch swing. His mother, in English, told him he had to speak English, so without missing a beat, he asked again in English.
How to feel inferior to a 4-year-old.
I am the company dandelion.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
My new superhero name: Dementia.
So because I'm peri-menopausal, I've become extremely absentminded. So it was that this morning I went through the usual routine of animal feeding, and only after giving George his Pepsid realized I'd given him instead a medicine I had on hand for Amie. I jumped on the net to see whether it was a problem.
After seeing things like "liver toxicity:" and "renal failure," I called the vet.
"I accidentally gave my cat 3 cc's of Metacam," I said.
The receptionist put me on hold. A half-minute later she came back on and said,"Can you come here? Like, now?"
So I shoved poor George into the carrier and headed for the vet. Because I'm also PMS-ing, I was getting teary and whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," all the way. George looked unhappy, but then again he is not a fan of the car. It was hard to tell whether he was depressed or heading into The Light. Whichever it was, he was calm.
A thought occurred to me.
I got to the vet, and said, "you know, I realized I misspoke. It was not 3 cc's; it was POINT 3 cc's."
I was put into the exam room and Dr Davis, my vet, came in.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that you made that dosage mistake, because I was already setting up the payment plan for the supportive care and hospitalization that he would have needed."
"Do we even really need to be here?" I asked.
"Well, no. BUT, he's 18, he's hyperthyroid, so his kidneys are already vulnerable, so it's not bad that he came in."
George got a once-over. He was pissed because I'd forgotten to change the carrier bedding from Amie's last visit, so he'd been sitting on rabbit poop.
Bottom line: I give George subcutaneous fluids each day for five days, plus a pill crushed and mixed with water for his gut.
The bill was about a hundred dollars, which is pretty cheap for a vet visit for us, but still, not great timing. And he goes in for bloodwork on Friday to make sure he's OK.
*sigh.*
After seeing things like "liver toxicity:" and "renal failure," I called the vet.
"I accidentally gave my cat 3 cc's of Metacam," I said.
The receptionist put me on hold. A half-minute later she came back on and said,"Can you come here? Like, now?"
So I shoved poor George into the carrier and headed for the vet. Because I'm also PMS-ing, I was getting teary and whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," all the way. George looked unhappy, but then again he is not a fan of the car. It was hard to tell whether he was depressed or heading into The Light. Whichever it was, he was calm.
A thought occurred to me.
I got to the vet, and said, "you know, I realized I misspoke. It was not 3 cc's; it was POINT 3 cc's."
I was put into the exam room and Dr Davis, my vet, came in.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that you made that dosage mistake, because I was already setting up the payment plan for the supportive care and hospitalization that he would have needed."
"Do we even really need to be here?" I asked.
"Well, no. BUT, he's 18, he's hyperthyroid, so his kidneys are already vulnerable, so it's not bad that he came in."
George got a once-over. He was pissed because I'd forgotten to change the carrier bedding from Amie's last visit, so he'd been sitting on rabbit poop.
Bottom line: I give George subcutaneous fluids each day for five days, plus a pill crushed and mixed with water for his gut.
The bill was about a hundred dollars, which is pretty cheap for a vet visit for us, but still, not great timing. And he goes in for bloodwork on Friday to make sure he's OK.
*sigh.*
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Spring in Chicago
The air in the back of my apartment is about 15 degrees colder than the air in front of my apartment. A neighbor and I went to the lake to have some wine and snacks and it was chilly walking through our courtyard, and balmy once we got to the yard. I've been opening and closing windows all day.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
6 inches forward and 5 inches back...
The latest production in my season subscription to the American Theater Company is "Hedwig and The Angry Inch," which I saw last night. Was aware of the show, knew something of the story, but had never gotten a good idea of whether I'd like it or not.
They went all atmosphere on our behinds: since Hedwig and her band, The Angry Inch, perform in a club setting, we were given wristbands and told to go around to the alley, walk down, and knock on the door (in effect, we were entering the theater from the back). I went down the alley, saw a sign for The American Underground, knocked three times on the door as instructed, and was greeted by a 65-year-old man in a button-down shirt and slacks.
So OK, some of it was not quite authentic.
Once inside, I was surrounded by black walls covered with band posters, and I suddenly felt that it was 1984 and I was at Spit on Lansdowne Street.
The show was very good, and the actor playing Hedwig was amazing; I don't know how he does this several nights in a row without collapsing from exhaustion. There is the band, and a very minor supporting character, but it's really a one-man show, and he never stops talking or singing. The set was wonderful, the music was soundtrack-purchase-worthy, and I really enjoyed it all. Turned out that the drummer for the band was my old buddy Doomed Attraction, so I had to suspend my disbelief, knowing that this "Punk" band member was really a real-estate agent, but that's OK.
They went all atmosphere on our behinds: since Hedwig and her band, The Angry Inch, perform in a club setting, we were given wristbands and told to go around to the alley, walk down, and knock on the door (in effect, we were entering the theater from the back). I went down the alley, saw a sign for The American Underground, knocked three times on the door as instructed, and was greeted by a 65-year-old man in a button-down shirt and slacks.
So OK, some of it was not quite authentic.
Once inside, I was surrounded by black walls covered with band posters, and I suddenly felt that it was 1984 and I was at Spit on Lansdowne Street.
The show was very good, and the actor playing Hedwig was amazing; I don't know how he does this several nights in a row without collapsing from exhaustion. There is the band, and a very minor supporting character, but it's really a one-man show, and he never stops talking or singing. The set was wonderful, the music was soundtrack-purchase-worthy, and I really enjoyed it all. Turned out that the drummer for the band was my old buddy Doomed Attraction, so I had to suspend my disbelief, knowing that this "Punk" band member was really a real-estate agent, but that's OK.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Leave no door unopened...
OK. So it started with babysitting. Then the dad, C--, referred me to his neighbors across the street, who were looking for an assistant, so he told me about them and we connected.
The woman, J--, has her own thriving voice-over business. She and her Guy also have a blues band and have made seven albums. He has a music business on the side, and he's currently working with a songwriter to do custom music for a Bar Mitzvah. They have a recording studio in the basement. She has branched out into managing huge workplace surveys for multinational companies, and is getting ready to finish one now -- she runs the email Help Desk, which is what I'm helping with. I take emails from employees looking for their password, for example (in a variety of languages) look up the information, and send back an approved scripted reply (in the appropriate language).
She needs help with her invoicing, managing work and files, helping record talent - in short, everything, and she thinks she wants me to help with it all. I may also be able to do voice-overs myself. It's chaotic but kind of fun - I bike two blocks to their GORGEOUS house, where they ply me with snacks and their cats love to be petted, and we go to work. Today I also helped them take out two storm windows. It's crazy but fun. I'd be paid as a subcontractor, so the downside is that I'll pay more in taxes (we also need to figure out pay; right now it's not quite what I need), but the upside is that there is potential to be part of a lucrative venture. So the verdict is still out, but I'm seeing how it goes.
Then tonight I met with a guy who has an organic apple orchard and is looking for someone part-time to do his bookkeeping and organize his files, etc.. He makes no money on it yet but loves it; his money-making business is running a consulting firm that works for FDIC -- they close banks. So yeah, his business is booming. We talked for over and hour, and he said, "You know, I don't know whether you'd work better on the farm side or the consulting side. I think you'd be good in Operations - I think we're looking for someone right now."
I'd be part of a bank-closing team, and the way he described it, it's kind of cool. The banks that failed get shut down, the FDIC takes over, and the employees become FDIC employees. Except for the managers, of course; being the ones that drove the bank into the ground, they get fired immediately.
"I want that job," I said. "I want to walk into a room full of managers dressed in a sharp suit, and say..."
"Gentlemen, I'll need your IDs, your keys, and the combination to the safe," Farm Guy said.
"Oh man. Yep; I'd do it," I said.
The cool thing is that each closing can take 3-6 months, and the team sent to close it travels to the bank's city and lives there during that time, in a hotel. It's a great way to see other cities, right? Except, as I told him, I can't travel right now because of my pets.
"It's only a matter of time before we have some locally," he said.
Oh yeah; he says it pays really good money. He also seems like a normal sort of guy.
So we left on an up note; I think he really liked me. I told him to be sure and mull me over.
So I've gone from no job to several potential radically different career opportunities. It's kind of exciting.
The woman, J--, has her own thriving voice-over business. She and her Guy also have a blues band and have made seven albums. He has a music business on the side, and he's currently working with a songwriter to do custom music for a Bar Mitzvah. They have a recording studio in the basement. She has branched out into managing huge workplace surveys for multinational companies, and is getting ready to finish one now -- she runs the email Help Desk, which is what I'm helping with. I take emails from employees looking for their password, for example (in a variety of languages) look up the information, and send back an approved scripted reply (in the appropriate language).
She needs help with her invoicing, managing work and files, helping record talent - in short, everything, and she thinks she wants me to help with it all. I may also be able to do voice-overs myself. It's chaotic but kind of fun - I bike two blocks to their GORGEOUS house, where they ply me with snacks and their cats love to be petted, and we go to work. Today I also helped them take out two storm windows. It's crazy but fun. I'd be paid as a subcontractor, so the downside is that I'll pay more in taxes (we also need to figure out pay; right now it's not quite what I need), but the upside is that there is potential to be part of a lucrative venture. So the verdict is still out, but I'm seeing how it goes.
Then tonight I met with a guy who has an organic apple orchard and is looking for someone part-time to do his bookkeeping and organize his files, etc.. He makes no money on it yet but loves it; his money-making business is running a consulting firm that works for FDIC -- they close banks. So yeah, his business is booming. We talked for over and hour, and he said, "You know, I don't know whether you'd work better on the farm side or the consulting side. I think you'd be good in Operations - I think we're looking for someone right now."
I'd be part of a bank-closing team, and the way he described it, it's kind of cool. The banks that failed get shut down, the FDIC takes over, and the employees become FDIC employees. Except for the managers, of course; being the ones that drove the bank into the ground, they get fired immediately.
"I want that job," I said. "I want to walk into a room full of managers dressed in a sharp suit, and say..."
"Gentlemen, I'll need your IDs, your keys, and the combination to the safe," Farm Guy said.
"Oh man. Yep; I'd do it," I said.
The cool thing is that each closing can take 3-6 months, and the team sent to close it travels to the bank's city and lives there during that time, in a hotel. It's a great way to see other cities, right? Except, as I told him, I can't travel right now because of my pets.
"It's only a matter of time before we have some locally," he said.
Oh yeah; he says it pays really good money. He also seems like a normal sort of guy.
So we left on an up note; I think he really liked me. I told him to be sure and mull me over.
So I've gone from no job to several potential radically different career opportunities. It's kind of exciting.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Still searching!
I've applied to work for the Civilian branch of the U.S. Army, working with families of deployed soldiers.
I've applied to be a part-time bookkeeper for a man who owns an organic apple orchard 100 miles from Chicago (the work would be in town, including farmers' markets). I figure it would be a great way to see the business side of running an organic concern, including the certification and paperwork behind it all.
I'm doing some more babysitting this week, and the father of the twins had mentioned me to other locals who need help with some Help Desk thing they are doing, on the office end of it. The couple's main business is sourcing talent for voice-overs and yes, the main goal is to see whether I can get myself into THAT action.
I am supposed to temp at the local convention center this weekend, doing something having to do with driving clients to a particular booth. Still have no details other than that the place will be crawling with urologists. Sexy.
Today am meeting with the Horticulture department head at Harold Washington College to talk about my bright future in plants.
And I'm still in my pajamas.
I've applied to be a part-time bookkeeper for a man who owns an organic apple orchard 100 miles from Chicago (the work would be in town, including farmers' markets). I figure it would be a great way to see the business side of running an organic concern, including the certification and paperwork behind it all.
I'm doing some more babysitting this week, and the father of the twins had mentioned me to other locals who need help with some Help Desk thing they are doing, on the office end of it. The couple's main business is sourcing talent for voice-overs and yes, the main goal is to see whether I can get myself into THAT action.
I am supposed to temp at the local convention center this weekend, doing something having to do with driving clients to a particular booth. Still have no details other than that the place will be crawling with urologists. Sexy.
Today am meeting with the Horticulture department head at Harold Washington College to talk about my bright future in plants.
And I'm still in my pajamas.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
My new hobby.
Tired of the ludicrous job postings on the net, I've started rewriting postings, where I correct spelling and grammar and generally edit the ad before returning it to the poster with my compliments and my express desire to not apply for the position.
To mix it up, today I began heckling the more egregious examples of delusion.
Take for example, the personal/business assistant position, which entails working "in an intense, fast-paced environment where there is no down time," for which they were offering $12 per hour. I sent them an email asking whether the posting was a joke.
To mix it up, today I began heckling the more egregious examples of delusion.
Take for example, the personal/business assistant position, which entails working "in an intense, fast-paced environment where there is no down time," for which they were offering $12 per hour. I sent them an email asking whether the posting was a joke.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)