The most boring job on the planet(TM).

As some of you already know, I recently got an internship at an accounting firm (yay). Due to the hectic work hours (and utter exhaustion on my part) I was unable to provide a daily blog-date for my adoring fans (boo). Good news is, the two week programme ended on Friday, so now I have ample time to write up a master-piece (orsm).

Disclaimer: I realise that accounting is not the most enticing subject, so you will have to bear with me in this follow-up, and try not to fall asleep (zZz).

Week 1:

I would be lying if I told you the minute I walked into that office building, I felt a sense of belonging – because I didn’t. ‘Aloof’ would be the appropriate adjective to describe my first day at work. My co-workers were pleasant enough, but they weren’t particularly engaging. I suppose it was understandable as 3 of them were Afrikaans (I’m a total n00b when it comes to that ghastly language), 1 was a workaholic (so she didn’t verbalize much), the other 2 sat in a different office (probably because they were ‘speshul’) and the rest belonged to Old-R-Us.

In any case, they got me started on some basic auditing. I had to do a number of testings to make sure the information supplied by the client is correct. i.e. I had to make sure all the numerics were summed correctly; all the supporting documents were in file; the cheques were signed and matched; and cross-reference the bank statements with the corresponding journals; etc. In layman’s terms, I had the privilege of doing all the donkey work that no-one else was willing to do. (fun fun fun)

Day 3 marked an unprecedented event in my life. It was the day I went to prison (srs!). The firm was doing the audit for Correctional Services – more specifically, the various clubs that exist within the confines of the twirly barbed wires. So I spent the day drawing up the books for their soccer club, netball club, choir, endurance walking society, golf club, and many more. Watching the orange-clad prisoners weed the weedless garden was quite entertaining, especially as one in particular kept bending down to polish his shoes (emphasis on shoe-polishing and not bending down o_O). All in all, the felons were well-behaved, apart from the one time when I went to the WC, and this one guy came at me holding a pair of huge-ass pruners. I think my heart may have skipped 2 beats, but I made it through alive. (I think my ancestral kung-fu-f00 was with me that day.)

The next morning, Correctional Services’ ‘newly acquired’ compooter crashed, so we had to abandon prison and head back to The Office. Seeing as they were then short of a working computer, I had to make use of a semi-operational Dell that was at least 7 years old, and should have been written off 2 years ago. (You’d think accountants should know all about depreciation, buy nay!) Anyhow, the computer I was working on doesn’t charge, and coincidentally, there was another computer of the same model where none of its components worked, except for the charging. So I had to swap the 2 batteries every 30 min or so. (Gay)

That pretty much summarizes the first week of torture. I will append week 2’s happenings in a couple of days.