sisabet

You're viewing

sisabet's journal
Create a Dreamwidth Account Learn More

Reload page in style: site light

I'm still at work. Thirty-two more years until retirement (I think - I should really check up on that. It could be only 27 more years in which case I should party). I don't hate my job - there are just so many other things I want to do right now then haggle with attorneys, take recorded statements and review medical reports. Like - walk outside. Today was 67 degrees F. Cubicles and florescent lights become much more oppressive in good weather.

I need a plan. Winning the lottery? I could do that. Wait, Tennessee doesn't have a lottery yet.

I should go home and read more Spander. I actually should go home, review a vid - work on my vid and watch Angel. Oh, and sleep. Let's not forget the sleeping part. I am very sleepy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

caille.livejournal.com

I used to like reviewing medical reports. I had a knack for reading chart notes and making sense of them. Lawyers would stop by my cubby and ask me to interpret stuff. I also enjoyed finding the anomalies, the kinds of things that very occasionally blow a case wide open.

But I hated, hated, hated scheduling depositions. I still wake up screaming. That is some kind of circle of hell. Depositions of regular civilians are bad enough, but the worst is scheduling an expert witness when there are multiple parties with multiple attorneys, and no one really wants to take the deposition, because it's so fucking expensive to depose an expert, but all the attorneys are playing litigation "chicken" with each other to see who breaks first and proposes some kind of settlement.

The secretaries used to schedule depositions. Paralegals like me reviewed reports, wrote summaries, did first drafts of various bits of nonsense. Then the business climate began to grow steadily bleaker, and bow howdy...you don't need to employ both legal secretaries and paralegals. Just bully one of them into doing it all. Then fire the receptionist, too, because how hard is it really for the secretary/paralegal/office manager to answer a teeny weeny li'l phone.

The last Christmas at this job? No bonus. Not even a lousy $25 in an envelope. "It's the economy," was the anxious refrain. So worried that their European vacations might have to be scaled back or, God, cancelled...they didn't go to college and law school and blah blah blah, just to take it on the chin like a common office drone.

Ooh. I had better stop. I think my eyes are turning black. There's this weird crackling ozone-y feeling....

Anyway, sisabet, umm, have a good day at work on Thursday. Really. It's because I'm such a bully magnet that my work life is one giant train wreck.

From:

sisabet.livejournal.com

I'm on the adjusting side of the fence - I have to evaluate the claim on behalf of the insureance company and affix a value. Which is difficult sometimes. Sometimes it is infuriating and sometimes it is just sad. Usually I like my job and I am very good at it - lately I am just bothered by a few things - nothing to do with the company I work for - I really like the company itself - but lately the claims themselves have been challenging, more so then usual. Sigh. I'm sure it wil pass - I'm just tired of reading these in depth histories and medical reports of these people with such horrid lives. This is why I got out of counseling and addiction treatment. Generally, I will have one or two of these things cluttering my desk every few months - lately it has been a new one every day.