long, navel-gazey GYOFB-y content within →
so, yesterday I got a job offer from BigPharmaCo. Yay! right? Well, sorta. I am simultaneously stoked and flat out terrified. Here's the thing. AwesomeBoss is going to really make me sing for my supper, and my slack ass is deeply insecure about that. Why?
Because during the course of the vetting process I underwent the sort of peer review they don't give to secretarial prospects. They really only do this for managerial candidates - over the course of the last couple weeks I and my HR handlers solicited a bunch of what they term "360º feedback" from folks I've dealt with in all the departments I've worked in onsite. Since I haven't actually permanently pissed anyone off, eaten any (live) babies, blown up the lab or danced nekkid thru the halls, I was confident I wouldn't get an unanimous rain of rotten tomatoes. The pleasant surprise was that Individual I'd Judged Most Likely To Stab Me In The Face gave me a positive review, too. But the whole thing was utterly draining and worrymaking, despite how cool my colleagues are, and continue to be. Yesterday's "interview" was essentially just plea-bargaining with HR about benefits stuff and paperwork. It's mostly final, I just gotta sign the offer and pass the physical.
So anyway, in reading said job offer, they don't just want to make me Contracts Lackey, the damn fools actually want to promote me to some species of Records Control Goddess for the entire site (in addition to continuing as Contracts Lackey, that is).
This is me saying "meep!"
Sure, okay, yeah, I've done a shit tonne of document wrangling and such in my past life, but about the only thing I've ever managed at a job is not to lose my mind. Thus I face the prospect of locating (or creating, as is more likely) site standards, figuring out records retention policies, writing a project plan, coming up with a budget and timeline, choosing software and figuring out system architecture and (god forbid) hiring an intern or two to do data entry and schlepping-of-boxes (wait, that's supposed to be MY job...) with a deep sense of trepidation. I mean, the FUCK do I know about this shit? Keep in mind I have a sum total of zero (0) formal education. And my entire career, such as it is, has revolved around the warm fuzzy feeling of having someone else tell me what to do.
the significant pay raise in the offer definitely addresses a considerable amount of budgetary FAIL in the lfr household, so there is that.
Please tell me if I should poke this delicious gooey cupcake before I take a bite. Just my luck it'd be camouflaging a big old crap taco. Or, you know, the aliens could land. (don't laugh, it could happen -- some months back we had a hot air balloon scare; damn thing came within eighteen inches of landing in the tank farm...)
Last but certainly not least, I reiterate my offer of sparkly, whuffly job-getting mojo from awhile back to any bunnies in need. This is a deeply fucked economy and I know I'm damn lucky to be getting any offer at all, so rest assured, I'm grateful.