Work has been going well so far, but it’s odd to say the least, that after 12 years in one job and then being the new boy on campus. Not least the amount of new information I’m trying to digest alongside the alien acronyms that everyone else understands. Although my brain has nearly imploded with information overload – I’ve now also got more usernames and passwords than my brain will ever need to remember.
Some logins work; some which don’t work; some which I can’t apply for until I’ve logged into other systems (of which I still don’t have access to); and half which don’t work when they should. Then there is one login which should’ve reset a handful of the others so you only have one set of login details to remember.
Confused? Yep, so am I. Especially when none of them work and I’m not set up on each system yet, so most of my time has been spent on the phone to the IT Helpdesk:
“Hi, I need my password resetting please”.
“…login details which should’ve replaced that and that haven’t worked…and neither do my original login details” etc. etc.
I think the IT nerd thought I’d killed kittens for a living when he asked if the prefix in my outlook username was (literally) something like this: wn00786st. I said no it’s not. He yelled down the phone “FUCKS SAKE! It’s always wn00786st, backslash, backslash, then your username”.
I laughed and replied “I’m new, how am I supposed to know all that?”
He managed to compose himself when he realised what he’d done, but then got even more frustrated when he couldn’t remotely connect to my computer. I knew from the tone in his voice that his World of Warcraft character had recently told him she didn’t want his babies.
I’ll never meet this IT guy as they are in a different city, but you know that Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons?…I know he’ll be of similar ilk to him.
I reckon I’ve got a good grasp of this computer lark, so god knows how they manage to get anyone logged into anything. Apparently it’s normal: “Give it 2/3 week before you get all your login stuff working properly” said a colleague today. You’d think I was working at MI5 or something.
Still, it means I get to stare at the Harbour Bridge whilst I’m on hold to the helpdesk (probably waiting behind other plebs who have forgotten their passwords, and who have overthrown his guild of elves, too). I’m expecting more of the same tomorrow.
It’s been years since I was able to say it, so “I’m new, I don’t know” has got a few weeks use to go at least.
What’s even better is within 5 minutes of leaving my desk, I can be down lifts, across the road, up other lifts (inside another shiny thing) and emerge – with popped ears – at a bar, for after work drinks up here:
If I don’t get overthrown by the password police, I think I might like it here.