My day

The following takes place between 9AM and 12PM...

9:00AM: Arrive at work. Meaningless chat with other clerks. Discover that the Advanced Admin subject over Winter session at uni had free food involved. Will wonders never cease!?

9:03AM: Clerk meeting.

9:05AM: Manager gives me a small stack of photocopying and binding. I am dismayed at the double-sided nature of the original document, but Clerk A comes to the rescue to show me how to do auto-double-sided photocopying. I am indebted.

9:10AM: Photocopying done. I'm about to start binding (and I am SUCH an UN-CO binder) when clerk B walks in and asks if I can show her how binding is done, because she hadn't been taught yet. I warn her that I am possibly the world's worst binder. I warn her again. I warn her again.

9:15AM: Clerk B watches me wrestle with the binding machine (stupid binding spiral is stuck!). I told her so.

9:20AM: Finish binding 1st document. I triumphantly extract it from the machine, then realise that I have forgotten to put a backing sheet and a cover onto the document. Must re-do the document. Gah. (I told her so.)

9:21AM: Wrestling with the binding machine. Clerk B leaves. (Don't say I didn't warn her!)

9:25AM: Finally finish binding 1st document, covers and all. Manage to complete the binding of the 2nd document with no dramas. (I think it's because no one was watching me.)

9:30AM: Sit down to sort mail with Clerk C. Ask Clerk C at least 7 times who Trust Investigation matters go to. For the record, it's Sim0n G@unt!

9:45AM: Clerk D asks me to teach her how to scan something. I leave to do so, and can almost hear Clerk C's sigh of relief that my incessant questions and I are gone for the moment.

9:50AM: I explain to Clerk D that I am CRAP at removing staples, and demonstrate. Clerk D suggests that the reason I am so CRAP is because I am using the staple remover incorrectly, and demonstrates the alternative method of use. I agree that that might be the reason and leave her to it.

9:52AM: Return to mail sorting. By this stage, I have been given the task of stamping each piece of mail with the "Received" stamp. No more questions.

10:10AM: Clerk D has finally finished removing all staples. I show her how to use the scanner, and warn her that the minute she turns her back on the scanner it will inevitably jam and that she might have to start the whole document (about 2cm thick) again. Back to the mail.

10:20AM: The scanner has jammed. (I told her so.) I fix the jam.

10:25AM: Enter deliveries into log book.

10:30AM: Waltz out into the sunshine armed with sunglasses and iPod.

10:35AM: Huff up a small hill on Hunter St to the Office of State Revenue. Stamp a myriad of documents (4). No dramas.

10:50AM: Exit the OSR and walk along Elizabeth St to 48 Martin Place to deliver a document to someone. Enter the building and realise there is no level number on the delivery address.

10:51AM: Take the lift to Level 7, where most of the deliveries usually go. Key in recipient's name into electronic directory. Apparently recipient does not exist.

10:52AM: Call solicitor's secretary to confirm the existence of said recipient. Yes, I have the right name.

10:55AM: Still can't find her, or her department. In desperation I stop at every level from Level 7 down to look on the individual floor directories for her section. Nada.

11:00AM: Ground floor. Call solicitor's secretary to inform her of events. She says she will double check and call me back.

11:05AM: Drop off delivery to Chambers.

11:10AM: Land and Property Information. Based on instructions from the clerk on the previous day I check our pidgeon hole and discover that what they said would be there is actually there. No dramas.

11:15AM: Secretary calls back. Gives me phone number of the intended recipient of my delivery. I call her and leave a message telling her to call me back to tell me where the hell I can find her. I fail to leave a number for my mobile phone. Oops. Head back to 48 Martin Place.

11:20AM: The office calls me. Apparently there is something "urgent" (I hate that word) to be picked up from Chambers - 2 folders. Could I go and pick it up and be back within 30 minutes? Gah.

11:25AM: Try calling would-be recipient again. No answer. Head up to Level 7 and accost a woman coming out of the offices asking her if she knows where the seemingly fictional department is. She doesn't know. She's a contractor. Bah. Shake my fist at whoever had the idea to replace reception with those stupid electronic directories!

11:30AM: Feeling a bit panicky because this is taking too long. Hit upon a brainwave to seek out the only live human receptionist that has not been replaced by a machine on level 2 - the CEO/Company Secretary/Other mega-important people receptionist.

11:31AM: Yay! The receptionist on duty is the one who used to work in our office! She makes a few calls and says that the department is on the Mezzanine floor. (I didn't even know there was one.)

11:34AM: I walk down the stairs from Level 2 hoping to come to the Mezzanine floor. I walk and walk and end up at Ground floor. Crap. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a little sign saying "Mezzanine" pointing up a different set of stairs to the ones I came down. Gah.

11:35AM: The Mezzanine floor consists of a frosted glass door saying "Secured Area". I kid you not. I get buzzed into the "Secured Area" and drop off the stupid delivery at security. Hey! They've been hiding a real, live reception person behind the "Secured Area" the whole time!

11:37AM: Walking BACK to Chambers, where I was about half an hour ago. Bah.

11:42AM: Up at reception to pick up the folders. I spy a large stack of very fat white folders. One must be mine.

11:45AM: I stagger out of the building with ALL THREE HUMUNGOUS HEAVY folders. Oh, my arms!!!

11:50AM: Staggering through Martin Place with these 3 huge and heavy folders. Mentally cursing the woman who told me to pick them up. Pondering O, H & S issues involved. Stopping every 50 metres or so to adjust my load.

11:55AM: Reach the office. Deliver ridiculous load of files to the woman (a secretary) who wanted them. She inanely asks if I need a hand, takes a folder, and leads me down to the solicitor who wanted them. Solicitor apologises, professing ignorance at the size and weight of my folders. Apologies are all very well and good, AFTER I've carried the bloody folders on a 10 minute walk!

12:00PM: Back to my desk, having complained to several people on the way. Remember that I have one more delivery to do. ARRRRRGGGHHHH.....back out again, into the sunshine.