Unwelcome Reception for the Receptionist

This is my second week of temping as a receptionist. The weird thing is though, their phone doesn't really ring that much that they need a full-time receptionist. An entire hour has sometimes passed without the phone ringing at all. So I keep encouraging the administrative assistant to give me projects. Time passes faster when you're busy.

It's a small law firm - only five lawyers, and about half a dozen or so paralegals. They're all very close, which is sweet. They go to the movies together, help each other move, go fetch coffee at the Starbucks around the corner together.

However, what is not sweet is the way they treat me. The paralegals have big offices, and sit two to an office. They have sliding glass doors - like balcony doors. There is a portable phone which I am supposed to take with me when leaving the front desk to do other tasks, like pulling files for the paralegals to work on, and re-filing files they've already worked on.

A lot of these files are REALLY heavy. Often one "file" is actually three fully packed redwelds that are in a bankers box. Now, I know that the fact that the temp agency didn't tell me there'd be tons of heavy lifting is my problem, and that I am always welcome to call the temp agency and tell them I can't do the job anymore because I am feeling things in my back actually pull themselves out of place and I now have at least two pinched nerves that make me scream in pain when I accidentally move in my sleep.

I get all that. But the reality is that I need work. I have no ego issues surrounding taking a job I am over-qualified to do. Technically, I'm under-qualified for this particular job since I can't deal with the fucking files without damaging my body, but I mean in general.

Anyway, I am so paranoid that I am having problems at this temp job because deep down a part of me doesn't want to "just" be a receptionist, that I refuse to bitch about how my back has never been the same since I got sick in 1995 and re-learned to walk.

So the paralegals. They never, ever help with the files. The files that I'm bringing to them. Bringing to them because they need them. To do their jobs. I can be standing next to their desk holding five files in one arm while trying to shove other files on their bookcase over to make room for the new ones, and they just fucking sit there, staring at their computers or talking with each other, completely ignoring me.

They also often have packets of paperwork that need to be copied prior to being mailed out. Today one paralegal came over at 1pm as I was putting my jacket on to go to lunch and said she needed a copy job back by 2pm. It was from a file I gave her yesterday afternoon. Really? When I explained that I was on my way out but could do it immediately upon returning, she was annoyed. Normally people give you about three hours to a half a day to complete copy jobs at this firm. How do they know I'm not in the middle of a project for someone else? How do they know there aren't four copy jobs in front of theirs?

They are annoyed when I open their balcony doors to deliver files. Or to ask if they have files because another paralegal told me to check with them. One attorney literally glares at me Every. Single. Time. I go to her about anything, even when I let her know her husband's on the phone. It got to the point this afternoon that I didn't have it in me to face her wrath and just left files outside her door in a pile with a note on them. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll get in before she does and I can toss them in her office.

This office does immigration law, and I get a lot of phone calls from people for whom English is not a first language. When I lived and worked in Florida this happened too. Except then their primary language was Spanish. Here it's Mandarin or Cantonese. All the Indian people speak English and have very thick accents.

Today one of the projects I was working on involved going through years of e-mails between clients and the lawyers at the firm. It was so interesting. All the clients, literally all of them, were so polite in their written communication. Polite, and very well-mannered, and appreciative of all the work being done to help them get whatever visas they needed or wanted. When I went to Mexico I was very determined to not be The Obnoxious American, and I thought I succeeded. Um yeah. After what I read today, I am guessing I came across more like a ... person who's nice for an American. These clients have shown me a new level, and I am in awe. I have a new goal for if I ever leave the country again. (My mother would say, 'Couldn't you be nice while you're IN the country?' To which I say fuck no!)

Oh! Here's something funny: there is an office manager. Once again, I can't tell if she's pregnant or just fat. I'm pretty sure she's wearing maternity shirts. But I'm just not positive. Today she told me she was running out to the doctor, and I immediately tried to think of something I could say to inspire her to share more information, but came up with nothing in the half-second I had. Turned out it was the dentist. Damn.

Help me focus on the positive about this job. It is work! It won't turn into a permanent job, but for these couple of weeks, it is solid work that pays me more than unemployment does. Excuse me please - I have to go repeat that six times in front of the mirror.