I've recently been given the opportunity to work at a non-profit over in Menlo Park, CA. This place is pretty darn cool. It's a completely green building, they serve bagels, fruit and coffee in the mornings, a fully catered "healthy" lunch in the afternoons and the best part... they have their own private gym in the basement of the building, which I'll eventually use... no really!................
This building is pretty tricked out with all of the bells and whistles of a modern, eco-friendly, corporate working space. (I even have a full-size portable heater under my desk to keep my dainty little feet warm on cold mornings.)
One of the different features I've never used before when temping, is a video phone. Everyone has one. So when you call within the office, or extension to extension, you can actually see the person you're speaking to. No other office I've worked in before has had this feature, so naturally, one would forget that their image will be displayed everytime someone within the office calls them. Like I do. I keep fogetting that damn camera will pop on so I try to get myself as far off screen as possible. I just don't care to know what I look like in floresent lighting every second of the day. It 'aint pretty. Especially after you've woken up at 5:45am. Under eye bags and fly away hairs for the win! However, regardless of my careful planning, I still manage to find myself on camera every once and a while.
.....But it's not always my bright-and-sun-shiny face....
I was in the middle of multi-tasking when the phone rings. Since I'm standing up, I lean over the desk to answer it. The camera pops on and all I can see is my own chest. Front and center. Right down the shirt. The poor gentleman on the other end of the line had a blank stare on his face as he spoke to me. I don't even remember what he said. I hung up the phone and started to laugh. Of course that's something I would do. Of course it is! The gentleman on the other line? The President of the company.
You're welcome!
This building is pretty tricked out with all of the bells and whistles of a modern, eco-friendly, corporate working space. (I even have a full-size portable heater under my desk to keep my dainty little feet warm on cold mornings.)
One of the different features I've never used before when temping, is a video phone. Everyone has one. So when you call within the office, or extension to extension, you can actually see the person you're speaking to. No other office I've worked in before has had this feature, so naturally, one would forget that their image will be displayed everytime someone within the office calls them. Like I do. I keep fogetting that damn camera will pop on so I try to get myself as far off screen as possible. I just don't care to know what I look like in floresent lighting every second of the day. It 'aint pretty. Especially after you've woken up at 5:45am. Under eye bags and fly away hairs for the win! However, regardless of my careful planning, I still manage to find myself on camera every once and a while.
.....But it's not always my bright-and-sun-shiny face....
I was in the middle of multi-tasking when the phone rings. Since I'm standing up, I lean over the desk to answer it. The camera pops on and all I can see is my own chest. Front and center. Right down the shirt. The poor gentleman on the other end of the line had a blank stare on his face as he spoke to me. I don't even remember what he said. I hung up the phone and started to laugh. Of course that's something I would do. Of course it is! The gentleman on the other line? The President of the company.
You're welcome!
