Let the River Run…

January 8, 2010

Last year I worked a 3 week contract as a Marketing Co-ordinator in a little 3 woman architecht office. Little did I know at the time that the fast-talking, TV presenter/architecht boss would actually turned out to micro-managing, power dressing bitch-from-hell who was so tightly wound she made the squirrel from ice-age look like it was on vallium.

I think my final conversation with her went a little something like this. . .

Her:  ‘Can you write the About Us page for the website, and call around some  designers for  quotes’

(Translation:  Can you make something up ‘about us’ that sounds like we’re a professional organisation and then go on the internet, find some freelance designers, call them and provding they even answer, tell them the spec for a fictional website we haven’t even discussed yet and then demand them to tell you the price over the phone there and then, so i can know in like 5 seconds, then forget instatly, change my mind and get you to do it all over again tomorrow?)

Me:  ‘No problem’

(Translation: ‘I wonder what I’ll have for dinner tonight’)

2 Mins later, while writing the About Us page…

Her:  ‘Did you call the designers yet?’

(Translation: Why are you so incompetent?)

Me:  ‘Oh no I didn’t I was writing the About Us content like you asked, I’ll do it now’

(Translation: I can’t read your mind)

Her: ‘Yeh, do it now. So, like, you can do two things at once’

(Translation: Are you thick or something?)

Me: ‘So you want me to write the content and talk on the phone at the same time?’

(Translation: Go fuck yourself )

Her: ‘Yeh, is that too much to ask?’

(Translation: Go fuck yourself)

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