(no subject)
I rolled in to work about 45 minutes late today. Whoops! I don't care about arriving late. I care that it could possibly impact my ability to leave by 5 to go to the gym, which is the one point of the day I get to kind of be outside my head for a bit. It's cathartic to drop weights on your head, trust me. Ehhh, Will'd get it. My ExecDirec staring me in the eye as I walked in probably won't stop me from walking out when I want to today; it's not like I won't be working from home tonight again or anything.
Today's list of chicanery: start, finish, and submit one proposal; spruce up a red carpet photo shoot list, even though I was given a RSVP list that had nobody's actual names on it to draw from; finalize text on our auction items (which would've been done last night if anyone cared to read my edits then); make sure our ExecDirec actually READ the edits I sent him for our slide show presentation; use a stapler and a phone cord to bodily murder the next person who calls this presentation a set of "factoids"; write a few inane thank-yew letters; and probably one or two other things I'm not remembering. Is this easy? No. Do I like it easy? Heeeeell no.
Ever seen Chicago? I feel like Richard Gere as Billy Flynn doing the Tap Dance scene. YouTube failed me, but if you've seen it, you know precisely how I feel right now.
And as I write this, I notice our Events Manager managed to epic fail on the edits I just sent her about the Live Auction and wants to send it out for proofing. I guess I'd best get off my ass and fix this before these three year olds drown on Elmer's Glue.
Today's list of chicanery: start, finish, and submit one proposal; spruce up a red carpet photo shoot list, even though I was given a RSVP list that had nobody's actual names on it to draw from; finalize text on our auction items (which would've been done last night if anyone cared to read my edits then); make sure our ExecDirec actually READ the edits I sent him for our slide show presentation; use a stapler and a phone cord to bodily murder the next person who calls this presentation a set of "factoids"; write a few inane thank-yew letters; and probably one or two other things I'm not remembering. Is this easy? No. Do I like it easy? Heeeeell no.
Ever seen Chicago? I feel like Richard Gere as Billy Flynn doing the Tap Dance scene. YouTube failed me, but if you've seen it, you know precisely how I feel right now.
And as I write this, I notice our Events Manager managed to epic fail on the edits I just sent her about the Live Auction and wants to send it out for proofing. I guess I'd best get off my ass and fix this before these three year olds drown on Elmer's Glue.