Kryptonite...

What? What's this?
You know, for the longest time, I thought I was invincible. I thought I was damaged and hurt to the point of numbness. I thought I had built this wall strong enough.
But as much as it frightens me, I think I may be developing feelings for someone. And I think what scares me the most is the idea of opening myself to getting hurt. But for this one, I think I may be ready. I can't say that one word, though...

From one breath to the next...

I have never been so happy for a day off. I have been thinking, as I search for a new job, of what the corporate cronies could do to make the property better. First, give all of us in the office a raise. Secondly, try to do what we do for just one day. They ask for us to get a certain amount of things done in a day, which is fine, but I think they don't understand just what we go through on a daily basis. The amount of foot traffic we get, and phone calls, makes it very hard to get other things done. Taking care of the tasks at hand doesn't leave much time for alot of our paperwork, as much as it needs to be done. I don't think more people need to be hired; things are crowded enough as it is. But maybe if they stepped in our shoes for just one day, they'd get it, and maybe help us handle it better. That's why they get paid the big bucks, right?

Also, anyone know of any good avenues for job searches?

Nicaragua: Day Two

It's the second day of the hostile takeover. Needless to say, it's been thoroughly exhausting. It's like re-learning everything that's been drilled into my brain for the last four to five months. What I'm most afraid of is the corporate people not liking me, or finding out what I've been fearing and avoiding for the last, well, four to five months: I'm no good at this. I'm praying that they won't hold the fact that I suck at this against me and just assume I wasn't taught well. All I can do for now is keep the trepidation to myself, show a good attitude, and keep moving forward, since it IS my job (for now).
I still don't know the exact reason for the managerial removal. I guess that it's mainly because the property wasn't moving in the direction that they owners wanted it to go, and they didn't feel the person in place was doing what was necessary. Well, obviously, since there were shootings and all. The thing is, with the rental rates being what they are, the kind of people that are attracted aren't the best kind. (There's a statement that's got to break at least one Fair Housing rule.) We'll see. So far, it's OK, just crazy.
On a less-stressful note, I'm off tomorrow, and indulging in a day at the spa, thanks to my Economic Stimulus check. And I don't think I'll answer the phone until I return to work on Thursday.

And Taking Names....

I think I now know what a coup d'etat feels like. I was sitting in my office, merrily (ok, maybe not merrily) working away, and a coworker comes in, whispering hurriedly, "Ronan's here...that's Ronan!" Our corporate honcho had arrived, accompanied by several of his cronies, a few of which I had never met. Something big was going down. I didn't think too much of it, since we'd had several corporate visits, both surprise and planned, in the past month or so. We'd been working hard and brushing up and trying to improve, and for a while I thought we were dong well. Next thing I know, my boss is leaving the office with one of the corporo-cronies. That was the last time I saw her. About thirty minutes later, I was informed that she had been "removed" from her position. Tension was thick in the air, tension that I still feel right now, even at home in my room. I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow. I know that these corporate individuals (All seven of them. Yeah. Seven.) will be here until further notice. It's like the interim government coming in to take control until the new regime is properly established. I feel like....like....like a small South American country, actually.
This invasion may work out in our favor, though. I'll get new training. Hopefully we'll clean out some of the trash, and I mean that literally and figuratively. It's gotten to where I don't feel safe at work. There have been at least three situations in which guns were involved. I've left buildings and immediately smelled weed. In asking the residents to clean up after themselves, all I get is attitude and insults. I do not know what is going to happen. And I am not sure I want to stick around long enough to find out. This is not a career; it's merely a job. A job that's become a catalyst for me to get a new job.
All I can say is, I can't wait for my day off on Wednesday.

And the Saga continues...

I'm thinking that there's so much going on at work, I should just make it into a epic tale. A Tale of Woe, if you will...well, sort of. And I'll give it a title. Something like, "The Adventures and Misadventures of PostGrad in an Uneducated World." Nice ring, don't you think?

Chapter One: PostGrad the Enforcer
It's summertime, and the kiddies are out of school. What to do, what to do? I know! Let's go up to the leasing office and play with the water cooler! I know that a plague of summer vacation can often be chronic boredom. But with everything that's on TV, and the boundless capacities of a child's imagination, shouldn't one be able to find something to do? However, since parents here are nothing like what they used to be and seem to take no interest in what their children do, even though they may be sitting at home collecting a check (and dust), we've had to institute a rule that no child can be in the office without a parent. No more free cookies, no more water cooler games. I actually saw a kid trying to steal twenty four teabags from the coffee bar, not realizing I had a perfect view of what he was doing. I just want to scream, "Where are your parents? GO HOME!"
Then, later this afternoon, as I was walking a key over to the other side of the property, I hear someone's sound system blasting the music out. How generous of this individual, I think, to share his or her music with the better part of the CSRA! This, however, is not a nightclub. I walk over to the car, tap on the window, and kindly ask the guy to turn the music down, telling him that this was "a residential area." God, that felt good.
What have we learned from all this? Give PostGrad a little power, she becomes a Nazi.

Ain't she cute...

I haven't been to the gym in a week. Over a week. Between work craziness and my mom's surgery, I haven't had the desire. I know I keep saying I need to just go, no talking myself into it or out of it, just go, but last week was just too much. At one point, I went nearly 72 hours without sleep, and when my mom was in the hospital, I spent my free time there and not the YMCA.
In the meantime I'm on a cleaning kick - my room, my bathroom, my brother's room (it's become storage). I never realized just how much junk I have. It's going to be a bitch when I move out. And on that note, I'm still looking for other jobs. It's becoming more and more apparent that this is not a job I want for much longer. I don't regret the experience, but I can't take the environment. We can't get anything done because we're too busy battling the daily vandalism, the bad attitudes, the crime, both petty and not-so-petty. I don't feel safe there, and I'm a pretty tough chick. Even the little kids there are horrible. I feel more like SuperNanny (a name which they're actually started calling me around the office) rather than WonderLeaser. Fortunately I have been able to remain calm and professional through everything, but I am not being paid enough to have to put up with this crap.

*UPDATE*
Yet another PostGrad Shock: First Summer Vacation with a Full Time Job. 'Nuff said.

Now this is an issue...

I am not quite sure why, but I find myself moving into a pattern whenever I am slightly broke and am awaiting a paycheck. I window-shop online. Not only that, I plan out all the things I might have denied myself during the period of broke-ness. It's like a countdown to the possibility of impulse-buying, sort of. For one, I seriously need a pedicure. Even more than that, my eyebrows are starting to look like caterpillars. I start thinking of all the things I can do with the money after I pay my bills. (Hey, at least I figure in bill paying to the equation.) However, it's getting to be such a habit that I'm starting to wonder if it's not a little unhealthy. For what am I trying to compensate? I guess I'm just trying to figure it out before it goes too far and I don't even have bill money anymore.

Ergh.

But if this is the biggest one of my problems, I should just consider myself lucky!