Being a Receptionist
It seems like there are many misconceptions about being a receptionist. Is it a gravy job that allows me to sit here and write a blog about the misconceptions there are about being a receptionist -- yes. But it's not without it's drawbacks.
And by drawbacks I mean, situations that test 'how badly do I need this job' vs 'I'm really going to drop this m-fer right here and now'.
There is this resident, whom frankly, I don't see how he's eluded jail or murder long enough to make it into a nursing home to begin with. He's a mean, minority hater, woman hater. Since I am both a minority and a woman I go strictly into the red column. Not to mention the fact that he was terribly mean before he got old so now he's an angry, old guy...great.
Couple this with the fact that one of my favorite residents moved out, she is...she's great. She's sweet, she's polite. I'll miss her, but while I was mourning the departure of the better reasons about this place Mr. I'm Angry All the Time walks over and starts yelling at me about unlocking the door to the laundry room.
Here's where the fun of surfing the internet inbetween answering phone calls, and directing visitors to their right places ends. I can't leave the desk, it's part of the job description of being a front desk receptionist.
He's shouting the door is locked!
I'm like, get your f#$^& clothes tomorrow then (not really)
are you going to help me, why do you work here, everyone here is useless.
It turns out the door isn't locked.
I've had problems with this resident before. The director had taken his keys for whatever reason, I didn't know this so as far as I know, the resident lost his keys because he couldn't even tell me who he gave his keys to.
He demands that I tell him my name, which I do. I like my name. I think Lauren is really pretty.
And then he says, I'm going to remember that.
I said You can do what you want as long as it's away from me.
And then he told me he was going to report me. An hour later he asked me what time it was and wished me a good night.
I can't believe they're still treating this man like he's independent when he's clearly insane.
I got turned down by 30 other jobs last year. One job I was accepted for, believe or not was worse than this one. I worked there for a few days, they weren't even sure what shift I would be taking on, the place had no order.
But I know one thing's for sure. I have to get the heck out of here.
And by drawbacks I mean, situations that test 'how badly do I need this job' vs 'I'm really going to drop this m-fer right here and now'.
There is this resident, whom frankly, I don't see how he's eluded jail or murder long enough to make it into a nursing home to begin with. He's a mean, minority hater, woman hater. Since I am both a minority and a woman I go strictly into the red column. Not to mention the fact that he was terribly mean before he got old so now he's an angry, old guy...great.
Couple this with the fact that one of my favorite residents moved out, she is...she's great. She's sweet, she's polite. I'll miss her, but while I was mourning the departure of the better reasons about this place Mr. I'm Angry All the Time walks over and starts yelling at me about unlocking the door to the laundry room.
Here's where the fun of surfing the internet inbetween answering phone calls, and directing visitors to their right places ends. I can't leave the desk, it's part of the job description of being a front desk receptionist.
He's shouting the door is locked!
I'm like, get your f#$^& clothes tomorrow then (not really)
are you going to help me, why do you work here, everyone here is useless.
It turns out the door isn't locked.
I've had problems with this resident before. The director had taken his keys for whatever reason, I didn't know this so as far as I know, the resident lost his keys because he couldn't even tell me who he gave his keys to.
He demands that I tell him my name, which I do. I like my name. I think Lauren is really pretty.
And then he says, I'm going to remember that.
I said You can do what you want as long as it's away from me.
And then he told me he was going to report me. An hour later he asked me what time it was and wished me a good night.
I can't believe they're still treating this man like he's independent when he's clearly insane.
I got turned down by 30 other jobs last year. One job I was accepted for, believe or not was worse than this one. I worked there for a few days, they weren't even sure what shift I would be taking on, the place had no order.
But I know one thing's for sure. I have to get the heck out of here.
Comments
Post a Comment