we're sorry, the number you've reached is out of service

We have nothing particularly insightful to say today. Are you disappointed? You should be.

Yes, we promised to titillate you with tales and bring you deep inside the dark, dirty caverns of the administrative world. Well, we're not doing that today.

In fact, we're going to tell you a whole lot of what we're not doing. Starting now.


We aren't going to cry if you leave.
Things happen, people move on. That's the way the cookie crumbles, and unless we're the cookie monster and you're our crumbling cookie, your departure won't affect us negatively in the slightest.

We're not about to collect money for a lottery pool.
Why would we want to do that? Unless we can bring in a cricket mallet and threaten to break kneecaps when you don't cough up the two bucks a week, we're not in for that particularly tedious task. Go buy your own tickets.

We resign our post as coffee fund monitor.
You drink coffee. You buy coffee. It's a fairly straightforward transaction, yes? No? Well tough shit. We're not collecting for that, either. See reason noted above regarding kneecaps and the breaking of.

We're done with the dish debate.
Who's turn is it to wash the dishes? Who left the dirty dishes in the sink? We don't care. And if left up to us, we'd eat with our fingers, off our lap, and screw the dish crap entirely. The next round of dirty anything will end up in the trash. Oh, was that plate from your aunt Martha? If it was so damn important, why did it sit in the sink for three weeks and grow crusty science experiments all over it? Yeah, thought so.

We will no longer take phone messages.
There are these lovely things called voice mail messaging systems. People will use them, or people will not. Either way, we're done with the 1950's secretary bullshit. Those skirts make our thighs look fat.

We're done being your dayplanner.
Sure, we'll still plan your day. It's part of the job. But we organize it in this neat little electronic device called a calendar. You can even access it from your Blackberry / iPhone / technology thingy. Stop calling us every six minutes to find out when your next appointment is, and start using that little shiny rectangle before we confiscate it and download tons of porn for the IT department to nail you with.


Now stop interrupting us and let us get back to the things we're supposed to do. Like save your ass from being chewed out by the Board, rewrite the strategic plan, organize the annual retreat and update your membership at every club in town.

And if we hear one more call from your office asking us when your next appointment is, well...let's just say that Mike from IT owes us a favour. Or two.


~ Paige