June fucking Cleaver

The title of "Office Manager" might sound impressive to one or two people. This is mainly due to it containing the word "manager" which implies some kind of authority. Most people who bear the title of manager have at least one or more persons who report to them. But my title is a little more literal: I manage the office. No one reports to me unless you count any one of my co-workers letting me know we have run out of this or that item in the employee lounge and can I please get more. I make sure the office supply room is stocked, the mailing and Fed Ex accoutrement are plentiful and that everyone gets a birthday card on his or her birthday signed by as many people who are present in his or her department; as well as sundry tasks like filing, dealing with various vendors and fielding phone calls for confused callers who hit "0" rather than try their hand at the employee directory.

It's not a glamorous job. It's kind of akin to being a paid house wife minus the actual husband or children (although many of my co-workers could fool you on that one). As is the case with a lot of house wife-esque work, a lot of it goes unappreciated. I'll often spend half my day running around distributing mail and packages and putting away a massive Costco delivery and the only feedback I get is someone complaining that I should order more Goldfish crackers or why aren't there more vegan snack options. A lot of days it rolls off my back - I don't expected to be praised for every little task I do. It's my job and it's what I get paid for - that's thanks enough 95% of the time. But there are some weeks where I feel like a little appreciation would add a little frosting to the cake.

An ex-co-worker of mine still chats with me on IM from time to time when I am at my desk. She's friends with some other folks who still work here and she recently told me that this one guy here, S, mentioned that he sees me running around doing so many things for the office and he hopes that my boss is taking notice since reviews are coming up. S and I have very little interaction in our individual jobs beyond a "hi" or a "hey" in passing. He always seems nice but generally quiet and doing his own thing. I certainly never thought of him taking much note of what I do with my workday. So of course he is secretly now my favorite co-worker. I might even buy a birthday cake from somewhere other than Safeway when it's his birthday month.