Here’s the story

by Reception Chronicles

Since I’ve been a chubby toddler, it’s been beaten into me that if you don’t finish school, graduate college and and get a Masters degree then you will live in a box under the bridge befriending pigeons. I’m not saying don’t go to school but I always thought once I finish school and college I will be in a house with a job and a husband and money and not a trouble in the world…oh my days was I wrong.

My parents were amazing enough to let me move to the UK for four years and study film. Three years in Wales, one year in London…best time of my life. Now I have a bachelors degree, a masters degree…..and now i’m in a sea of people in search of a job in the film industry. Not only do I have shitty job experiences at Mcdonalds and a bar, I have no connections. After four years of studying and some innocent, mature, sober partying…

I wound up back in California with no money or a job and clutching onto my degree.

My father came up with the idea that I work at his company as a receptionist to get some money and look for a job. Well that was three months ago and here I sit in the exact same place. It is what I am now: 23, a receptionist at a computer software company and accepting the fact that this might be a longer trip then I thought. Believe me the job is extremely boring yet I have discovered it is amazing entertainment. The shit that goes on here is comedy gold without trying so I decided I will begin chronicling life as a receptionist in this halfway house for the insane (the office). Welcome to my battle station. It’s a good space…yet not fully operational. (yes expect a lot of star wars references)

Now its time to settle some cliches:

NO I do not file my nails at my desk. YES I do read Nora Roberts trash novels. YES I do manage a full working candy bowl. YES I fake enthusiasm on the phone. NO I do not know how to fax (three months and still no one has found out). YES I do know the UPS man by his name. NO I am not skilled in excel but rather Bejeweled Blitz on facebook.

As for business cards, my 1500 of them go into local restaurant raffle bowls for free stuff. I feel selfish that I get to witness the genius that goes on in this building so I will share with the world. Also all outbursts or rants can be blamed on the fact that I am in the midst of a diet. My mother so kindly bought me a red plastic cup for water that resembles a fast food soda cup so as she puts it “looks and feels like drinking soda.” Bless her.

Along the way will include words of wisdom from my father such as “never write with red ink in birthday cards, it makes them feel threatened” and his classic words describing people (especially on the road) like a jerkopottamus, curmudgeon, a bohemith load, typhoid sally, etc. Even though the job stays the same, everyday I wonder what else can happen. The benefit though is no one can yell at me or give me shit because I have a daddy defense shield in works. It is now reaching nearly 5pm. Quittin time as us office folk say…not all the time for me because I try to slink out of here like a rat at four but no luck today. It’s time to get in the car and face the packed freeway home. Car pool lane of course.

P.s I am also skilled in Sharpie Tattooing. Please enquire for a price list

and yes that is a fork…i don’t know why.

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