Me No KNow How So Good To Writ

Yesterday, SS pulled me into her office with a very serious look.

"Before you leave, I need you to do something for me," she wheezed. "You must talk to UV about her emails."

"Hurgh?" says I.

"Her syntax and grammar are terrible. You have to fix it. Tell her I'm very particular about such things. Tell her you or I need to approve everything she writes before it goes out."

"I don't think I can do that, it's not really my place."

You doofus. You hired her. Her lack of literary smarts was right there on her resume, remember? You specifically WANTED someone inexperienced and ignorant. You said so yourself. Enjoy your long slog in grammar hell. Heh heh heh.

Goodbye, Mary Poppins, don't stay away too long

After some maneuvering on several peoples' parts last week, it seems that SS cannot in fact keep me shackled to my desk in perpetuity, and must in fact set me free tomorrow at 6 PM. Under the terms of the agreement, she remains under the false impression that I will return to help her move, and I get out of here without having to chew any limbs off.

I am going through my process of packing away all traces of my existence from the environment. Gone am I from all computer systems, drawers, desks, and phones. I've transferred power to poor UV and made her and SS feel confident that the move is the best for all of us. SS keeps saying things like, "you're not really leaving are you? Tell me you aren't. What if UV doesn't know this or this or this?"

The answer is: I don't care! She will learn. Just as I did. I came in here with no instructions, and I've given her a wealth of knowledge. Now it is her time to shine on, crazy diamond!

My agency called to ask about upcoming assignments. In the process of talking to my boss there, I found out that everyone fully knows the dread of SS and is absolutely amazed that I made it as far as I did. "She actually said she loves you!" one staffer mused, "that's impossible!" While I agree that it is impossible because SS doesn't have a heart, I realized that they knew far more about this lady than they let on when they sent me in. I found out that one day a few years ago when they were out of temps, SS actually made the president of the temp company go in to answer her damn phones. Unbelievable.

My boss said, "if we ever have any extra movie tickets, we're sending them to you!" as if that would somehow make up for the months taken off my life by this lady. I think I have officially, after working there for six years (*shiver*), earned full street cred and have climbed as high as I can on the respect ladder at the agency. They'd better send me to a damn Disneyland job after this. I need to coast for a while.

A Truly Educated Music Assistant

This just overheard from Unwitting Victim, the new assistant, who started yesterday: "Who's Aimee Mann?"

*double forehead slap*

They are perfect for each other.

A Truly Educated Music Executive

SS was just holding a CD from the band Rise Against, asking, "Is this band Rise Against The Machinery? You know, the band with that guy Tom Morello? Didn't they break up?"

*slapping forehead*

Out Of Town, Not Out Of My Hair

SS never ceases to amaze me in her selfishness. She left Friday for a trip to the UK and will be gone for ten days. After she'd left, a delivery of bribery cookies came in from a desperate record label (stuff like this comes in often - flowers, candies, even iPods). These cookies were the fresh, perishable kind, not the kind you can save. They looked awfully yummy. I called SS and said:

"These cookies came in, they are perishable, what would you like me to do with them?" *hint hint hint*
"Well, can you messenger them to me?"
"At the airport?"
"No, I guess that won't work. Well..."
(Just say it, say "why don't you just take them home and enjoy them with your significant other")
"Go ahead and put them in the refrigerator and I'll see if they are still good when I get back."

You selfish ho-beast. Seriously, the thought didn't even cross her mind to offer them to me.

So, I should be happy because she is gone to England and shouldn't bother me this week, right? WRONG. I came in to several messages from her and have been on the phone with her for such stupid reasons as, "They did not put me in room 909 which is my favorite room!" and "I want to know what my meal per diem is so I can know how much I'm going to have to fork out myself," and "You HAVE to change my seat going back, I CAN'T sit by the lavatory!!" I answer "uh huh, uh huh, uh huh," and then generally do nothing, because seriously, fuck you.

Better still, this morning the Office Services dudes came in and deposited a whole load of boxes at my desk. "What's this for?" says I. "Moving," says they. "Well, you don't expect ME to pack this place, right? I mean, this is YOUR job. I mean, you are Office Services. That's what you do. Right? ....right?" "Nope," says they, "you gotta pack it."

I called SS in her damn swanky British hotel room and I did it, friends, I said, "I'm sorry but I don't think I'm the person you're looking for. I'm not good at moving things. You'll have to find somebody else. I'd rather not." She came back with, "Oh, don't worry, we'll make the TEMP do it." "SS, I AM the temp." "Oh right, sorry, I meant the new girl. We'll make the new girl do it. I know you are better than that." "That's right, I really am. I can't do this."

I'm a little bit shocked at myself and very proud. Thank you, GDT! I'll be messengering you some fresh cookies today.

I'd Rather Not

Holy Of Holies, Sal has finally hired an assistant! From all I can glean, she went for the least qualified, least interesting wet noodle that walked through the door. She was so unmemorable that I can't even picture her face or anything about her. SS had several applicants who were extremely intelligent, well-versed in music, and educated. This was too threatening for her. "I'm having a problem with loyalty lately," she mutters often, "I don't trust anyone." As well you shouldn't, lady.

Looking at her resume, SS hired the youngest girl with no knowledge of music. Clever. Now the office will be entirely without music expertise. From Unwitting Victim's resume:

Objective:
To find full time permanent employment, where I can utilize my skills and experience to grow with a stable company. *YAWN*
Skills:
Capable of multi-tasking. Self Starter as well as a team player. Detail oriented and organized. Not detail-oriented enough, however, to use proper grammar and punctuation on her resume. *Sigh*

I pity poor UV.

Does this mean I'm finally off the hook in two weeks and get to take my leave? Not by SS's clock. She wants me to stay on for the worst of reasons. "They're moving my office, and I want you to help with the move."

Umm...no. I'm pretty sure I'm an administrative assistant, not a mover. They have people for that. This is a huge office with an entire room devoted to a CD library. There's crap everywhere. Moving this place would be a gargantuan effort, not to mention the fact that there will already be an assistant here. I have a back injury.

For all these reasons and more, I'm going to employ a method I just learned from Guillermo Del Toro, the director. It's a magic phrase called, "I'd rather not." It's a polite way of saying no in a manner that no one can dispute. Temps, ad this to your oeuvre! It can be used in so many ways:

• Boss wants you to give them your personal phone number. "I'd rather not."
• Boss asks you to do expense reports for them for dinners that were clearly not business-related. "I'd rather not."
• Boss tells you to stay late to help them wank around with stupid crap. "I'd rather not."
• Boss expects you to stay on as her personal slave while she moves offices. "I'd rather not."
• Boss makes you file her divorce child support paperwork. "I'd rather not. NO, REALLY, I'd rather not."

SS has taken a new approach in the way she reprimands me. Because she knows she has no control over me, she's started being passive aggressive to see if that works:

• "When the new girl comes, I won't let her take hour and a half lunches. It's ok with you but not for the new girl."I should note here that she INSISTS I take the long lunch so that she can have time to talk on the phone alone. I'm not complaining.
  
• "When the new girl comes, she will turn on the copier every morning. Don't worry about it, though, you're fine." I DO turn it on, damn you.
  
• "When the new girl comes, make sure she always unlocks my door for me. You don't have to worry about it, but I want her to wait on me hand and foot." Again, poor UV!
  

Hooray for me, though. This shows that I have won the power struggle, and reiterates the Awesome Power Of The Temp. I have finally broken her into realizing the important temp maxim: It's Not Worth The Effort.