I haven't generally mentioned my job here on my blog. It's not like some sort of rule I have, it's just not something I've done. I don't figure talking about the minutia of my day in the office is particularly interesting. More than that, I'm well aware that there's a general air of mystery which surrounds what I actually do, and I sort of like that. For the most part it seems that people just know I travel to foreign countries, speak to foreign people and complain about jet-lag. Who knows what else I do at my job? Could be anything. I might even be a spy!
That said, I do want to talk briefly about my job. Just to grumble a bit. Then I promise I won't bring it up again for a bit. The rules for running our program in a given country (say, Germany) are pretty simple. There's a straight-forward order to follow. At the simplest, I can break it down into three steps:
1) Pay us whatever you owe us from last year.
2) Sign your contract for this year.
3) Send us completed applications by February 27th.
When people perform these three steps in order, things work out very well indeed. When someone from a given country (say, Germany) skips steps 1 and 2 and only really does half of step 3, well, then you know there's going to be trouble. Because when it takes us until mid-March to browbeat people in a given country (say, Germany) into completing steps 1 and 2, they end up blaming us for the fact that they didn't complete step 3 in time. And when we give then until a certain day (say, today) to complete step 3 and they still haven't done it and so we reject all of their applications, they get snippy. Yeesh.
Sometimes, in my office, we wonder if maybe it's not we who are actually the crazy ones after all. But since we all tend to talk to our food and write pretend letters to the printer and copy machine, I guess we probably are.
At least my Russians are getting visas this year. That's a very, very good thing. And Lena. Lena has her visa too. When's she showing up again?
Comments (7)
You're not a spy. You drive a Saturn, remember?
Posted by Erik (the roommate) | April 6, 2004 10:13 AM
Posted on April 6, 2004 10:13
so whats your company name?
Posted by gus | April 6, 2004 1:46 PM
Posted on April 6, 2004 13:46
Company's called InterExchange. Check out the "Citations" at left, Gus. It's the places I've schooled and worked, with the addition of the International Exchange Center, which is where my way-cool friends in Russia work and I seem to spend so much of my winter time.
Oh, and Erik? I could totally be a spy. Sneakiest spy ever!
Posted by Jason | April 6, 2004 10:55 PM
Posted on April 6, 2004 22:55
We've been over this. It's not like your little LE is going to pop out jet packs or submachine guns with the press of a button. It doesn't even have automatic LOCKS, dude. I refuse to believe that all that extra technology that isn't going toward power windows is actually being diverted to a GPS hook-up and an oil slick dispenser.
Posted by Erik (roommate) | April 7, 2004 1:37 PM
Posted on April 7, 2004 13:37
They blew the budget on my fancy wristwatch...
Posted by Jason | April 7, 2004 10:43 PM
Posted on April 7, 2004 22:43
You know it is hard for me to keep telling my local friends that my buddy Jason from Jersey is an international pimp when the car thing gets brought up I mean seriously dude.... I mean hows a pimp gonna get his money and not buy a dope ride? You need to show them hoes who the boss be and get paid.
Posted by Zach | April 10, 2004 5:10 PM
Posted on April 10, 2004 17:10
Uhm... stealth pimp?
sigh.
Why do I get the feeling that my wuss-ass car is going to haunt me for the rest of my days?
Posted by Jason | April 10, 2004 6:38 PM
Posted on April 10, 2004 18:38