So it’s the aforementioned Friday afternoon and I’ve been not-so-busy at work but not-so-rich for leaving early. I do answer the phone and everything, but everyone in the office has their own back-door number so my phone, the general switchboard, doesn’t get in on the action unless it’s 1) one of the stores (which is cool) 2) a salesperson (in which case I play dumb and take a message or 3) a wrong number. Maybe five times a day the phone rings. Maybe.
That’s not all I do, of course. It’s actually an enjoyable job. I fulfill marketing and prize requests. I also process the mail when it comes in and, as such, get the first crack at any unclaimed catalogs. Office supply used to be my favorite genre; now it’s the promotions rags. Last week, I bit my tongue from purchasing a gross of flip-flop erasers in assorted neon colors for $3.49.
My favorite co-worker (though they’re all lovely) has also come to the conclusion that she’s either mastered her job or bullied all the stores into doing things the right way, because she’s got a lot of free work time on her hands. This morning was no exception.
“I usually have some corrections to make on the orders when I get them,” she told me. “Today, every store did it right, except for one error that will take me like, 10 minutes.” We laughed.
I went home for lunch, just in time to see Max-cat dash across the street in the path of the car in front of me. Everyone escaped without injury, though Maxwell’s pride suffered when I soundly berated him from across the street.
Monstro was going to come home but called at 12:35. “I guess you’ve figured I’m not coming home for lunch,” he said. True dat. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Well, the store mail to-be-logged usually keeps me busy for half an hour,” I said.
Despite what my Bible study said on Monday, my prophecy skills failed me (if you’ve already guessed the punchline, give yourself a bubble-gum cigar). Not a single piece of store mail to-be-logged. For the first time since I started work a month ago.
Just as well that I saved my big project for after lunch: an inventory of the stockroom that I organized and consolidated last Friday. Friday is our jeans day so it’s better to save the dirty work until then.
Maybe I could sneak in a book with me…
OK…time has passed… I did a lovely job on the inventory, didn’t sandbag or anything, and got it all typed up into a spreadsheet with subheadings and everything. Plus, when I got back to my desk, there was one envelope of store mail to be logged (the local stores sometimes drive it over to us). And it’s 3:56, 64 minutes to go until the weekend. Have a great one!