Well, They Asked...
Mar. 7th, 2007 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianI got an email from my recruitment agency today. In it, she asks how I am getting on in the assignment and whether there's anything she needs to know.
My response:
"Well, actually, yes. This is the second time I've been in this fucking sinkhole of a post and both times the fucking hospital has lied through their godsdamned teeth about the actual nature of the role, so that instead of simply clearing a typing backlog, I am doing the senior secretary/PA duties for two consultants as well as clearing a typing backlog, not to mention sorting out the completely disgraceful disaster area the previous temp - who they sacked for being incompetent - left behind her. On the whole, I'd rather be shovelling raw sewage than working in that horrible office with its ergonomically unsound desk chair, constant phone calls from entitlement bitch patients, unholy workload, constant finger-pointing for things that other temps fucked up and the hour and three quarters I have to spend on public transport just to get to the office. They're lying scheming arseholes who, by throwing temps into that cesspit of a role with no warning of the actual workload, are causing undue grief to said temps and cheating both the temp and the agencies involved out of their rightful rates for the work."
Okay, maybe not in quite those words, but I did point out that ChelWest is cheating them and me by consistently misrepresenting the role and suggested that they might want to be careful dealing with that hospital in future. I swear, that fucking place keeps screwing me over - ChelWest, recall, was the hospital that didn't pay me when I was on long-term sick because a receptionist couldn't pass along a fucking message, not even when I provided them with the appropriate doctor's certificates.
Oh, and did I mention that I missed the interview I had to get put in the running for the cushy PA job at the medical research firm because this one patient ranted at me for twenty-five minutes by the clock about things that were the fault of other secretaries? And that I can't commit to another interview until I know that the complete and total nightmare that office got left in is at least marginally under control? And that this basically means that I'm stuck there for eternity because trying to clean up several months worth of temp mess in there is like trying to empty the Atlantic with a sieve?
I will never say that the world owes me a lottery win. However, I don't think I'm wrong in saying that the world owes me a huge bag of sweeties.
My response:
"Well, actually, yes. This is the second time I've been in this fucking sinkhole of a post and both times the fucking hospital has lied through their godsdamned teeth about the actual nature of the role, so that instead of simply clearing a typing backlog, I am doing the senior secretary/PA duties for two consultants as well as clearing a typing backlog, not to mention sorting out the completely disgraceful disaster area the previous temp - who they sacked for being incompetent - left behind her. On the whole, I'd rather be shovelling raw sewage than working in that horrible office with its ergonomically unsound desk chair, constant phone calls from entitlement bitch patients, unholy workload, constant finger-pointing for things that other temps fucked up and the hour and three quarters I have to spend on public transport just to get to the office. They're lying scheming arseholes who, by throwing temps into that cesspit of a role with no warning of the actual workload, are causing undue grief to said temps and cheating both the temp and the agencies involved out of their rightful rates for the work."
Okay, maybe not in quite those words, but I did point out that ChelWest is cheating them and me by consistently misrepresenting the role and suggested that they might want to be careful dealing with that hospital in future. I swear, that fucking place keeps screwing me over - ChelWest, recall, was the hospital that didn't pay me when I was on long-term sick because a receptionist couldn't pass along a fucking message, not even when I provided them with the appropriate doctor's certificates.
Oh, and did I mention that I missed the interview I had to get put in the running for the cushy PA job at the medical research firm because this one patient ranted at me for twenty-five minutes by the clock about things that were the fault of other secretaries? And that I can't commit to another interview until I know that the complete and total nightmare that office got left in is at least marginally under control? And that this basically means that I'm stuck there for eternity because trying to clean up several months worth of temp mess in there is like trying to empty the Atlantic with a sieve?
I will never say that the world owes me a lottery win. However, I don't think I'm wrong in saying that the world owes me a huge bag of sweeties.