In space, no one can hear you sobbing into your bowl of soggy cereal.
Forgive me for being a right bitch, but I absolutely hate the fact that my exco seems to have forgotten that I am still in charge of publications and marketing. And just because I had to go away on a 6-week preceptorship, everyone forgets that I exist (Excuse me, hasn't anyone heard of emailing? Or texting?). I wasn't told that we're still going to collaborate with a theatre company for our September concert (which, by the way, has Bad Idea written all over it). I wasn't told that our concert programme was going to be this fucking long. I wasn't told anything about matric fair and auditions. Yea, I get that you guys may think I'm busy, so no need to bother me. But honestly, I feel like I'm just being shoved unceremoniously out of the door.
But right now, I am very irritated at the fact that my President seems to have left the job of deciding the next concert poster design to people who probably have zilch designing experience.
But right now, I am very irritated at the fact that my President seems to have left the job of deciding the next concert poster design to people who probably have zilch designing experience.