I ate lunch at Septiem with the loveliest of lovelies today, a celebratory spring lunch of ceasar salads and tuna fishes and jokes about butter.
The HR manager here at t*rgen handed me a packet about business seminars. Aparently, my upper management boss (as opposed to my supervisor) asked him to see if there were classes available for me. Classes on being a fucking receptionist.
Here's what it covers:
-Making a positive impression on everyone you greet.
-Reading and using body language to your advantage.
-Dealing firmly and professionally with pushy people.
-Getting jobs done in spite of constant distractions.
-Spotting and controlling troublemakers and problem visitors.
-Preparing for and taking charge of emergency situations.
-Keeping tabs on visitors and vendors.
and last, but not least
-Preventing stress and chaos from getting the best of you.
It kind of annoys me, and it makes me paranoid that she's unhappy with the job Im doing. I guess thats why I need classes....to be a fucking receptionist.