Stockholders:
Take note. There are security cameras everywhere, sometimes cleverly disguised as sci-fi lighting fixtures, sometimes right out there in the open with the words "Security Camera" printed in block letters along the side. Thank you, Captain Obvious.
I am not alarmed by this, seeing as how I have yet to break the rules at my current assigment. (or assigments, I should say, since it changes every freaking day.) But there is something disconcerting. Yes. Terribly disconcerting.

I am sick, friends. I got it from my six-week roomie. Of course. I tried desperately to avoid the plague that he seems to have contracted over the last few days. However, in an effort to not gross myself out anymore that I already am, I will be refraining from hacking up giant phlegm balls and spitting them into the nearest receptacle. I think it's vile and it makes me want to throw up when I think about it.

I have a really hard time with spit.
Really hard time.

Anycrap, I forgot to write last week. Well, not really forgot. I was preoccupied with an enormous project that I was working on outside of temping. And what better time to work on it than during the long, boring hours that make up my day here at temp-central.
I was in a different building last week, and much to my suprise, there were TWO of us at the desk. Not because it's busier. Oh no. But because the desk was built for two people and it would look bad if they didn'thave two people behind it.
INSANE.
However, there was a magical little feature to this desk that was different than the others that I have and will sit at as a floating receptionist. The button to let people in...is a FOOT PEDAL! Genius!!! Holy crap I miss that foot pedal today. As a temp, it is probably not appropriate to request a foot pedal this early in the game, but wow. My whole outlook on life changed with that foot pedal. I could open the door without using my hands. I didn't have to scrounge around under the lip of the desk in an attempt to locate the door button and instead hit the "Panic" button by mistake! Oh the joy. The wonder of it all.
Needless to say, I got cocky. I thought I could pay less attention to the door and work harder on my outside project, which involved a lot of meticulous planning and writing. Turns out, my supervisor showed up early on Friday morning to do her weekly spot check of all the receptionists, getting feedback from people on the floor. A phone call from her later in the afternoon informed me that my button skills were under par and that people felt neglected when the door wasn't opening automatically for them. I will be honest and say that there were maybe five times out of the three-hundred that I press that goddamn button that I may have been slightly late.
Poor neglected Financial Bastards. Is somebody not paying enough attention to you at home?
Do you need to be noticed when you come to the door? Get a grip. Be a grown-up and use your ID. That's why they took that stupid picture of you in the first place. So you can get IN and OUT of places in the building where you work. Have it out and ready at all times. And, if I like you, we'll challenge each other to see who can get the door open first. See? A little game.
Now buck up, little soldiers. It's a jungle in here.