administrative world #1: nirvana is not an oasis

Before we get started we need to clarify two things. One: the nirvana we mention here has nothing to do with the grunge-rock Seattle band, Nirvana (although we did and still do love to rock out to their albums). No, we refer to the nirvana which is akin to a perfect peace; a tranquil state of mind. Two: the oasis we mention here has nothing to do with the rock band, Oasis, from England (although we like to rock out to their albums, too). No, we refer to the oasis which is a refuge, a place preserved from surrounding unpleasantness.

Now that we've got the nirvana oasis thing down, let's continue.

A long time ago, in a land far, far away - well, actually only about 4.5 hours from where we live now - we once worked in an office that protested it was the nirvana of administration, the oasis of human resources. We were suckered in, like the rest, and we took a job with their HR department as an executive assistant to their Director.

We were wooed, bought flowers and given pre-loaded Starbucks cards. For the first week we were repeatedly told how happy the 'team' was to have us, and how our broad skill-set and talents beyond an administrative capacity would be challenged and appreciated in the wonderful cornucopia of talent that surrounded us.

It was shan-gri-la, a nirvana among HR teams, and a fertile oasis.

For about five working days.

That pre-loaded Starbucks card? Sure, we could use it for our own coffee-time beverages occasionally...just as long as we remembered to bring the Lord and Master an extra-hot-non-fat-no-whip-white-chocolate mocha. Every morning. In a reusable cup that we had to wash, digging the crud off the bottom from yesterday's mocha madness.

The lovely flowers? We had to process the payment of them when the credit card statement arrived; and we had to reimburse their cost to the boss from the meagre coffers of our 'staff employee appreciation fund'. Needless to say, we weren't very popular after that was discovered at the next discussion of the balance sheet.

And what of our skills that were beyond the traditional administrative capacity? Were we challenged and asked to participate in the broader team perspective? Maybe - if one accounts contributing to be doing the work of others without getting credit.

Our friends congratulated us on landing the sweet gig they thought we landed. For a few moments we thought we had landed it, too. But after the veneer peeled back and the stained, ugly surface revealed itself, we realized that no matter the pretty package, the oasis might just end up a mirage.

It sounds trite, but it's apt: if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is. We're still learning that.

We left that job and we haven't looked back. Except, of course, when we gaze upon the lovely (and rare) orchid that we liberated from the boss' office on our last day. We were the only ones taking care of it anyway. We don't think they miss it at all. Besides, it's doing much better with us.

Oh, but we miss the corporate credit card. That last charge of Starbucks gift cards? Well, we gave out $25 cards to the whole administrative support team before we left. And not just the HR team - the entire corporate team. At eighteen junior VP's, six senior VP's, three senior executives and the CEO's office...well, you do the math. We knew you would want us to thank our colleagues for their hard work on making you look smart, efficient and organized. You're welcome.

The admin who can survive in that environment - the one of the misguided nirvana - is one that we don't mess with. They're tough cookies. The rest of us bail as soon as we can, keeping an eye on our backside as we exit stage left.

Reportedly, our desk didn't stay vacant very long. There were a long line of admin professionals waiting to join the nirvana. We hope they left relatively unscathed.


~ Paige