Scary Cora

I'm enjoying my once every two weeks volunteering job. It gets me up and out of the house in the morning, and it brings me satisfaction that I don't get as a SAHM. I'm solving a different set of problems, moving my mind in a variety of ways, and walking up and down the sanctuary steps and in and out of the pews is getting me the exercise I desperately need.

I keep saying that I don't think I can go back to work. I've been on my own for so long, making my own decisions, my own choices, and being the boss that I'm not sure that I can follow someone else's rules. I figured that volunteering would help to get me back into that routine of having to listen to someone other than my husband myself. Unfortunately, working alone can also create some bad habits, and one of those have carried over in my volunteering. I talk to myself. Aloud. I have a list of chores written in a book that sits in a holder on my desk, and a list of chores that are printed on a piece of paper that lies under the glass on my desk. I start with the book and move to the paper and finish back with the book. It's a system I have down pat.

My office is the first one that people see when entering the offices of the church. Inside my office through a door is another office where the administrator works. Her chair and desk are in the corner facing katty-corner toward the door and my desk and chair. We are about five feet away from each other. She too is new in her position and so we are learning together. She, of course, has had more days notched on her belt than I have as she works every day, and so I defer to her when I have questions. For the most part, we are the only two that work on Fridays so she is all I have unless I text or call my trainer.

I was on my sixth day of work, the third with this new administrator whom I'll call Opal. She is always there when I arrive and so I greeted her and sat down at my desk to look things over. I followed the list in the book; turn on the computer, check, read the volunteer book to see if yesterday's volunteer left me instructions, check. At this point, I notice that the desk is more cluttered than normal with notes. Two of the notes have my name and so I read them. The first one asks me to call UPS and schedule a delivery for the "tower of boxes on my desk".

Now I'm reading this note out loud to myself, and I look around as I read this.

Me: "I don't see a "tower". What "tower" is she talking about. Hmmmm..."
Opal: "They are on the floor in front of your desk. I think she moved them there when she left yesterday."

Ah. I get up and sure enough there are four large boxes on the floor in front of my desk. I mutter something aloud about not being very observant, and I sit back down. Call UPS. I wonder aloud if that information is in my volunteer manual, a book that is so very detailed a person walking in off the street could do this job. I pull it out and begin searching through it. I feel I have been given this information, or was it FedEx? I can't remember. I wade through the manual. I get to the end, turn back to the beginning, and read the entire manual. No UPS information. I give up that for now and move on to the next note on the desk.

It asks me to send the letters, which are directly under the note to me, including self stamped envelopes to the "nine people who don't receive emails." Hmmmm... I read this out loud again, wondering who are the mysterious "nine". I look under the letters. I look around the desk for a list of names and addresses. Nothing. I'm stumped. Immediately, I know what is happening. My trainer is testing me. She is trying to decide if I can handle this job. I say all of this out loud to myself.

Me: "I'm being tested. I am being tested on whether or not I can pull this off. This is a test. Not a test of the emergency broadcast system, but a test on how efficient I am. I shall prevail. Opal, do you have any idea who the nine people are that do not receive emails?"
Opal: "No, I don't know."

I turn back to the volunteer manual and start reading it again. Twice. Nothing. I take a deep breath, and turn to my computer. I search for UPS information in the computer. Nothing. I search for people, labels, addresses of people who don't want emails. Nothing. I decide to tackle the UPS problem. I look up the closest UPS drop off place. There are five in my surrounding area. I search how to have UPS pick up packages. This takes me to the UPS website. I read through it.

Me: "Excuse me, Opal, but do you know if we have an account number with UPS? I'm thinking they will want that information when I call."
Opal: "No, I don't know."
Me: "Perplexing, but I'm not giving up. I can't find it in the computer. Hmmmm...let's see."
Opal: "I think that the company is paying for the shipping. Those are printer cartridges that she is returning."
Me: "Aha! Okay, that makes that easier. But who do I contact? Oh. Wait. What's this? Chat Live. Well, now, let's chat live with someone at UPS and see what that gets me."
Opal: "You could maybe call UPS."
Me: "I could, but I don't know which UPS to call. There are five around this area. I'll see what I get with chatting live."

I hit the Chat Live button and a screen immediately pops up for me to type in. Someone types in a message to me, and suddenly I am talking to a...what? I picture her as a tall, blonde with dark highlights, glasses, and a business suit. I read aloud everything she types, and everything I type.

Andrea A.: "Good Morning. I'm Andrea A. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"
Me: "Well, isn't she pleasant? I hate to tell her she isn't really speaking with me, but I'll play along." Type: "Good morning Andrea, this is Cara"
Andrea A: "Good Morning, Cara. What can I help you with today?"
Me: "How many times is she going to wish me good morning?"
Type: "I need to schedule a pick up for some packages."

I wait. Nothing.

Me: "I seem to have stumped even Andrea A. with this question. What the hell? Oh, sorry. I'm in a church. What the heck? How hard is this task? If I knew which UPS was the one for pick up I could just call them. Why isn't that information on their website? Maybe I should discuss this with Andrea A."
Andrea A.: "Okay, Cara, do you have a return number on the label of the package?"
Me: "A return number? Well, let me see about that. Yes! Yes, here is the number. Of course, it can't just be simple like 1,2,3."
Type: "Number, number, number, letter, number, letter, number, etc."

Wait. Nothing.

Me: "What is this woman doing? Is she chatting live with more than just me? How hard is this? Oh, wait. It says here that Andrea A. is (listening). What? She's listening? To who? Me?"

I glance up at Opal, who is ignoring me. I glance around the room. I look out the window. I look up at the ceiling. I look back at Opal who is now looking at me.

Me: "It says Andrea A. is (listening)."
I lean in to my computer and whisper, "Hello? Hello Andrea?"

Opal stares at me. She smiles and goes back to her computer. I snicker. I crack myself up. Come on, that was funny.

Me: "Oh! Now it says, Andrea A. is (responding). Well, frankly, she isn't very quick on her responses. I'm just saying."
Andrea A.: "Okay, I have that in my records. Do you have other packages?"
Me: "Oops. I guess I should have mentioned that."
Type: "I have four boxes all with the same return number. They are being paid for by the company. They are printer cartridges."
Me: "I'm not sure Andrea A. needs that information, but just in case she is curious. Hmmmm...she is listening again."
I lean into the computer and whisper, "Did you get that Andrea A? The boxes contain valuable printer cartridges....used cartridges."
Opal: "Is she listening?"
Me: "No, now it says she is responding. I like this. I'm thinking that we need this. The church needs a Live Chat button on our website. Wouldn't that be cool? I could do that job. I could do it from home. Chat with people who need assistance. That's a job right up my alley."
Andrea A. "Okay, when would you like to schedule a pick up?"
Me: "How late are you here, Opal?"
Opal: "Until 3:00 p.m."
Me: "Okay, so I'll say before 3:00 pm."
Type: "Today, please. Before 3:00 pm. The office closes at 3:00 pm."
Whisper, "Did you get that, Andrea?"

Waiting. Waiting. Andrea A. is (responding).

Me: "Jeez, she is not the fastest typist. I would be more johnny on the spot than this gal."
Lean, whisper, "No offense Andrea." "Wouldn't it be funny if she typed, "None taken." How freaked out would that make me?
Opal: "That would be weird."
Me: "I know. But cool."
Andrea A: "Okay, you are schedule for pick up today of four packages. Can I have your address please?"
Type: Address, address, address."
Andrea A: "You have been scheduled. Someone will be at this address before 3:30 pm. Is there anything else I can help you with today, Cara?"
Me: "What? What the hell? I mean, heck. I just told you we close at 3:00 pm. What part of that did you not get? Oh, Andrea A. you are falling down on the job."
Type: "I need someone here before 3:00 pm. as we close then. I said that before. Sorry."
Me: "I'm not really sorry, though. I'm annoyed now. How hard is this? I will be a better Live Chat person than Andrea A."
Lean, whisper: "Hear me, Andrea? Pay Attention!"
Andrea: "Okay, you are scheduled. Sorry for the inconvenience. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Me: "Not unless you know the names and addresses of the nine people who don't receive emails." Type: "No, that's it. Thank you."
Andrea A.: "My pleasure. Have a wonderful day."
Me: "You too, Andrea. Well, wasn't she just the nicest thing. Not as focused as she should have been, but efficient enough to help me take care of that task."

I sign off, quite pleased with myself. The phone rings and it is a local UPS representative confirming my address and pick up information. I remind her, because I'm not so sure Andrea A. got it, that we close at 3:00 pm. She thanks me, and I hang up.

Me: "Well, there we go. I handled that one. It only took me an hour, but I have passed that portion of the test. Now on to the next one. Although, I better do my normal jobs first and leave this one to the last."

I do this. I complete all of the lists in the book and on the paper under the glass on my desk. I arrive from the sanctuary hot and sweaty from walking up and down the stairs and in and out of the pews. I plop down into my chair and turn on the desk fan. We are all middle aged woman with hot flashes so the fan is very important. I try again to find the nine names. I spend too much time and finally I admit defeat. I text my trainer for help. She texts me back the information. The labels of the nine people are hanging on the bulletin board by the work station. I finish the job. It is now a half an hour past my leave time.

Type: "I'm afraid I've gone into overtime."
Trainer: "I'll make sure to reflect that in your paycheck."

See. A sense of humor. I giggle. I begin cleaning off my desk preparing to leave. Opal's cell phone rings. She answers. I get from the gist of her conversation that it is my trainer. Opal has had some computer issues all day. The trainer is very knowledgeable about the computers, and well, everything to do with anything at this place.

Opal: "We have a laptop? I didn't know that."
Me: "Oh, yeah, we do. It's right here behind me."

I pull open the drawer to the cabinet behind my chair. Opal, on the phone with my trainer, comes into my office and stands peering down into the drawer.

Opal: "Nobody told me there was a laptop. Uh, huh. Okay. Sure."
Me: "I'm just going to sneak out now. I'm in to overtime and don't want to get too far into that."

I stand up which puts me face to face with Opal. She is staring at me.

Opal: "Well, I guess I could have had the volunteer do that today. Cora is here."
Me: "Cora? Okay, then."
Opal: "Yes, I could have had her do that, but, well, frankly, she scares me."

Yep. Sigh. I think I'll be better with the Live Chat job. I'm going to look into that.