Keeping Up with the Jonzee still at the right spot.

Thursday, September 13, 2007


I woke in a fairly sunshiny mood this morning. And no one would ever say that I am a morning person. In general, my response to shiny "good mornings" is a series of gutteral grunts or complete silence. I was still reeling happily in the memory of yesterday. Had a little a make-up afternoon delight yesterday, met up with a girlfriend in the borough of Brooklyn for dinner and drinks, copped a new CD.
This morning started out well. Even though at 1 AM I was scurring trying to set up a conference call that no one seemed to want to tell me who should be on the call and at what time until after the close of business.

Up and out the door early, coffee and heart-to-heart with my favorite retired banker, mentor, and surrogate grandmother. Then it hit me that I would need to deal with that 1 AM email again.

And then the day started to unravel. First, my admin was MIA. So the request to set up the conference call had not been fullfilled at 9:25 this morning. I spent 22 minutes trying to figure out who in the office could either set the call up or give me the information. What time did I get the info? 10:13. What time did the call need to be set up? 10 AM.

To make matters worse the lawyer dude for my company who works out of headquarters in the midwesst somewhere sends me this email that basically rips me a new one because a) the call was at 10 AM eastern and he is in the central time zone though the client, the sponsor, and the other 4 people who needed to be on the call are on the East coast and nobody in the midwest office ever bothers to delineate what time they mean b) I didn't get the email until after business hours--from neither the client nor him--who sent his email at 6:50 eastern. c) I am not a fucking admin! And if at nearly 7 PM eastern he saw that no one had responded to neither me nor him, he could have set the call up his damn self--with his own personal secretaty.

So, now, I am wholly pissed off. I already feel like this job is not the one for me, and I really want to go home.

Ah, but at least I have happy hour to look forward to. Bourbon anyone?


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