Tell me about your job

[Nephew Twiddleton]

I work in Purgatory, and have since July 2000, a couple of months after I graduated high school, when I apparently died and didn't realize it.

I am a Data Coordinator. I don't know what that's supposed to mean, really. It feels like a damn funny title. Before that I was an Administrative Assistant. Before that I was a Data Coder, which isn't probably what you think it is.

I get on the elevator, get off the elevator, and I walk 6 feet forward. I swipe in. I walk another 10 feet forward, grab my coffee cup off my desk, wash it if it looks a bit haggard and head to the conference room (which I refill everytime it empties. Surprisingly, I do not seem to be addicted to caffeine, since I usually don't drink it at home or at Villager's). Then I go back to my desk and turn on my monitor, since my computer must never be shut down, for reasons I have nothing to do with, and for reasons I don't completely understand (it has something to do with collecting emails. It wasn't always my terminal. Matter of fact, I forget exactly why I moved to that one, but it was originally a conscious decision on my part).

So what does being a data coordinator entail? Well, what we do overall at my job is epidemiological research. We're pretty well known in that field, and are affiliated with Harvard (Harvard, however, does not sign my paycheck. The hospital that gave me my ID badge and runs the lab does). Anyway we send out questionnaires to several large volunteer cohorts, they fill in bubbles with number two pencil, or occasionally pen, or rarely, orange fucking crayon (that's a copy over, as the original cannot be salvaged as a document from the get go, regardless of how mint condition the paper is). Data coders open up the envelopes en masse (sometimes coordinators do that too). Then they look over the questionnaires for errors, inconsistencies, and what the fucks. It's basically what gets entered into the "do not write in this area" field job.

The what the fucks go into problem boxes. Part of being the coordinator entails figuring out the fuck it is and then giving the questionnaire back to the coders.

Then the questionnaire goes to the scanning room where it is imaged into a computer friendly format.

Then the coordinator talks to the computer about that computer friendly format and fixes errors that the coders somehow missed, or that the scanner somehow confused, in a process we call validation (improperly erased bubbles is a big one there, or inconsistencies with past reports on weight or that sort of thing. Either way it involves me going through folders of the original questionnaires to find out why the database is unhappy with the input, and then punching in a number value that everyone is happy with and still consistent with the questionnaire). And that is pretty tedious. And sometimes really frustrating if it is coder error.

Then, the next step is to scan the questionnaires again into basically a PDF photocopy so that a human friendly version is readily available. I've been doing that a lot lately and enjoy it more, since, even though it's still about as enthralling as validation, allows me to multitask. I can read shit while the folder is scanning and it's perfectly acceptable, since well, what the hell else am I going to do while the scanner is going? I also have to validate the PDFs, but that's a fairly quick process.

Then we recycle the questionnaires. Which might take some time. I still occasionally get asked to chuck out questionnaires that I and my friends did back in 2004.

I'm also a full time student so I can be a scientist instead of a data janitor. I get my BS in 2017. Someone must have finally prayed for my soul to be released from Purgatory.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I like that you always refill the conference room. A typo, yet an EXCELLENT typo.

I spent a year doing data collection, data entry, data checking, and data coordination, sometimes all at the same time. It's damn fine experience, and yet I hope to NEVER DO IT AGAIN.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

I like that you always refill the conference room. A typo, yet an EXCELLENT typo.

That's what I get for adding to a thought after the fact. I like that image though.

"RIGHT!!!! EVERYONE IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM NOW!!!! I'M MAKING COFFEE!!!!!!"

I spent a year doing data collection, data entry, data checking, and data coordination, sometimes all at the same time. It's damn fine experience, and yet I hope to NEVER DO IT AGAIN.

It's important work. And sometimes you have to keep repeating that like a mantra.

[Suu]

I make pretty things using a sewing machine by custom order, because nobody except grandmothers know how to sew anymore. I trained myself, I work for myself, and I hate my boss. She's a bitch who makes a huge mess and blames it on Obama.

My customers are self-righteous spoiled fucktards with too much money and no desire to spend any of it to receive a quality garment because they're so goddamn used to Wal-Mart prices. When you order from me, you get 24 hour support, unlimited alterations and repairs, RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT OF A PATTERN THAT FUCKING FITS YOU AND ONLY YOU of a specific historical garment you HAVE to have even though you think wool is itchy and asked me to do it in polyester to save money.

I am not a Ren fair vendor, I am not a costume store, I have a motherfucking goddamn ARTIST AND HISTORIAN, pulling late hours on your landsknecht because if you look good, then I look good. You don't see the tears and sweat and blood I put into my craft because you're too busy bitching I couldn't "cut you a deal" because you know someone who ordered from me before. Food does not go in my mouth and electricity to power my machines does not stay on if you do not buy from me. No, I will not substitute cotton for linen, you cheap piece of shit, it will rip the first time you wash it on hot...and you will, despite the care sheet I include with all of my garments (most saying DRY CLEAN ONLY) and then you will turn around and complain that I fucked you over.

You fucked yourself. It will be $100 extra if you want it before this deadline. Shitneck.

But damn, I make people look good.

[Cainad (dec.)]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

I make sammiches.

[Cainad (dec.)]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

We sure were ready to get them just as dead as they got us, huh?

[Eater of Clowns]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

We sure were ready to get them just as dead as they got us, huh?

Just do it.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

We sure were ready to get them just as dead as they got us, huh?

Nikes weren't nukes, they were static anti-bomber defenses.

Think of them as the Maginot Line of the cold war.

[Cainad (dec.)]

Ohh gotcha.

Think of them as the Maginot Line of the cold war.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

Around here they auctioned them off to private purchasers. Or tried to. One of the telecom bunkers is in a park and they just piled dirt over it.

[Mangrove]

I am a small business....just like George W Bush!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I do geographical work for a company that helps people determine if their dirt is full of poison, helps them extract poison from their dirt if it's there, and helps design systems that reduce the amount of bullshit that enters the environment.

I accidentally found out where the abandoned missile silos are on my first day. Turns out, there's a LOT of them.

We have dozens of Nike silos.  Some were sealed up or whatnot, some were just sort of de-weaponed and then forgotten.  Homeless people live in them now.

Around here they auctioned them off to private purchasers. Or tried to. One of the telecom bunkers is in a park and they just piled dirt over it.

We also have Titan silos, but nobody ever goes in them, on account of the ghost of Curtiss LeMay wandering around screaming.

[Junkenstein]

People phone me to look at things they want to not be there any more. I go and look at the thing and decide how much I can charge the person for doing so. Lots of paper occurs as these things are now more often than not in oil refineries and chemical plants. Sometimes nuclear.

I should not have my job and quite frankly am amazed that I do. This amazement is only secondary to witnessing the incredible range of ways people try and get themselves killed by not being able to LOOK UP or understand the concept of "Supporting wall".

Over the years, one thing i've learned about is the number of explosions that happen in places like this that never make the news or shareholders reports. "Weak 3rd quarter" in the oil and gas sector seems to mean "Shit blew up". The severity of the language indicates how many people were injured. This also seems to apply to other industries.