I got a Master's for this

[igotamastersforthis]

...and I’m back.

A fair bit of time has passed, and since the last time I posted, I have moved to a new country and joined another large bureaucracy. (I just can’t seem to quit them.)

There have been highs and lows - both personal and professional. And now, during a bit of a lull period, I find myself struggling and having dilemmas like: If I don’t let shenanigans get to me, does it mean that I am a well-adjusted adult who can compartmentalize appropriately, or does it mean that I am becoming jaded and bitter and it’s time to make a change?

As I work (or rather, flail) through these latest (but also not all that new) dilemmas, I do know that I need some kind of cathartic release.

Cue: Tumblr and anonymous Internet rants/confessions.

[igotamastersforthis]

URGENT (Redux)

Can you turn this into a word cloud?

(People are seriously obsessed with these things.) 

[igotamastersforthis]

Token Minority Female

I have decided that this will be a special sub-series on this blog, which is really proving to be invaluable for cathartic release. It does require me to out myself, though - I am indeed a minority female!

Generally people mean well, but I honestly can’t tell if that makes the ridiculous (not very PC) things that happen here better or worse. I go back and forth. 

For example, I recently found out that my picture was featured in my organization’s strategic plan. Where is that picture found, you might ask? Under the objective to “recruit a diverse workforce.” 

[igotamastersforthis]

Are you an intern?

I am on the younger side of the spectrum at the organization where I work. I cannot count the number of times people, upon meeting me, ask if I’m an intern. Actually, I can’t even count the number of times people that I do know have referred to me as an intern. Or the number of times people have mistakenly introduced me to others as an intern. You get the picture.

Like, thank you for thinking that I’m young, but I’ve been working here for two years. 

[igotamastersforthis]

Can you update this design?

Yes, of course I can help. 

But here is the usual sequence of events, as we proceed:

1) Could you please send me the file? It wasn’t attached in your e-mail. 

2) Thank you for sending me the image file. I can’t edit an image file. Could you please send me the original design file? (This is my biggest pet peeve.) 

3) Oh, you have no idea who created this in the first place and you can’t find the design file? That means I’ll either have to replicate this somehow, without the original design elements, or start from scratch. 

Thank you for nothing. 

[igotamastersforthis]

Such a Millennial.

I got called out for being “such a millennial,” because I was on my phone while waiting for the elevator.

This was a perfect stranger. And not that I need to justify myself to anybody, but the elevator in my building moves at a sloth-like pace. 

[igotamastersforthis]

What is a blog?

No, really. I had to explain what a blog is to several people in a group meeting. 

[igotamastersforthis]

Make me a Wordle.

I recently spent a couple of weeks with the head of my department, helping him complete a final project before his retirement. 

He was obsessed with “wordles,” which is what he thought word clouds are called, and kept sending me different documents to transform. The thing is, what he was sharing with me isn’t really suited for word clouds. 

I wound up having to significantly clean up the source content - almost to the point of doctoring - to get word clouds that weren’t utterly and completely insane. 

The sad thing is, I’m not sure if he would have noticed the difference if I hadn’t done that. 

[igotamastersforthis]

URGENT.

Can you convert this PDF to a Word document for me?

[igotamastersforthis]

Make this go viral.

It was suggested (in all seriousness) that I get together with my other “young people” friends and find ways to “use the social media” and make something I was helping with go viral.

Because that’s how it’s done.

[igotamastersforthis]

Attaching multiple files.

The head of my department asked me if it was possible to attach more than one file at a time to an e-mail. 

I walked him through “shift, click, click”. 

He then proceeded to tell me about all the years he’s spent adding one file at a time. 

I decided not to tell him about using “control” as an alternative means of selecting more than one file, so as not to overwhelm him.  

[igotamastersforthis]

Watermarks.

I was actually asked to remove a watermark from a document for a group of people this week. 

The main kickers:

I wasn’t sent the file to work with.

After I asked for the file, another six e-mails went back and forth while people tried to find out who had a copy to send to me. 

I was sent more than one version of the document. 

In total, more than a dozen e-mails were sent, involving six people (including me), before this was resolved. 

I was asked to remove a watermark. 

Granted, they did need this done in both PDF and Word, making it doubly hard.

[igotamastersforthis]

Hello hello.

Let me preface this blog, and what stories will follow, by saying that I fully and firmly believe in working hard and paying your dues, especially early on in your career (which is where I am - fingers crossed). I must also say that I have had some wonderful opportunities at work, and I have grown personally and professionally over the last couple of years in ways I would not have thought possible before. 

But at the same time, I get asked to do some pretty ridiculous things at work. The organization shall remain nameless, but suffice to say it is a large bureaucracy and the majority of people I work with are quite a bit older. 

My attitudes around my work - and the dreaded “what am I doing with my life” question - continue to fluctuate on a daily basis. An important personal change, though, is my ability to not let crazy requests (sometimes demands) get to me too much. Instead, I tally it up in my brain as another funny story to relay to my friends. As they’ve accumulated in my mind, I’ve decided to record them somewhere - hopefully by writing about them anonymously on the Internet (as you do), it’ll also provide some cathartic release.