We Are Shell, Not Scholl...

Just that I've been temp-ing around at Shell House and puttering with different aspects of company's various departments. Mostly, I was posted at Shell Trading (SIETCO) but my virgin experience at the House was handling reception duties. After being exposed to both areas, I am still fifty-fifty about which was the lesser of two evils.

Apparently, I was not being warned that everyone on the 9th floor were bitches --males and females alike. It was only after a week's worth of working with Shell Trading and a week after my departure was I asked why in the world was I working under a bunch of nasty people.

Great. Now they tell me I was helping out morons. Something which I had toggled in my mind for a while but discarded it innocently thinking that it was just one man whom was a moron.

So it all fell into place as I pieced the puzzle surrounding the mega-weirdness of the Trading people.

Owells. It was all in the name of making money for the future. The people in Trading just loved to utilize me to the maximum. Sometimes I even ended up doing things for people whom I wasn't supposed to be working for. Meaning that I did stuff that wasn't supposed to be mine.

Like arranging the boss's Financial Times and Business Daily in chronological order despite the boss not being around --and would not be for an indefinite period of time.

Like zapping copies of receipts for another woman when I was supposed to be handling stuff for that particularly moronic man.

You know, mundane stuff.

The best part of the job was ending at 5pm from Mondays to Thursdays and on Fridays, half an hour earlier. And the fact that I always come into a cold empty office where fellow staff members have the staunch belief of not coming to work before 9am or even half past nine because they log off late. Therefore I am able to get away with going home early since I'm already in the office doing my work before anyone else arrives.

And the guy who signed my timesheet is an almost deadringer for Edward Norton, except slightly beefier than the scrawny Fight Club alumni. With russet hair, a similar beard and moustache combo and the most mosaic hazel eyes. Yum.

But wanna know what's even yummier?? The office's coffee machine!!

Tell me, dear working friends, does your coffee machine churn out ten different types of flavored coffees including the standard black D.I.Y and three different types of tea that excludes separate buttons for hot milk, sugar AND creamer??

If yes, good for you; if not, beat that, suckaaaaahs!!

Ohh, the perks of working in a gi-normous MNC. I kiss your feet, globalization.

Laterz...
Lenny