How to Piss Off Your PA

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As I’ve mentioned before I am the Personal Assistant to the Senior Management Team of my company.  I am also the Office Manager for the whole office.  And the Official Office Geek.  I have many roles.

At the moment our regular accounts manager is on maternity leave and we have a temp in.  He’s an ass.  A total unmitigated ass.  He wouldn’t know how to be polite if you hit him with a polite stick.  And, trust me on this, the last thing you want to do is piss off the PA/Office Manager of any office.

Do you know what happens when you do?  You get no coffee.  Or biscuits.  You might not even get paid.  You certainly won’t get the office supplies you think you so desperately need.

So many people think that Admin work is low brow or easy.  It is neither.  A good PA, and, to toot my own horn, I am a very very very good PA, can make the difference between an office that runs well and one that runs like crap.  My office runs well.  Very very very well.  Because, as I just said (still tooting own horn over here) I am very very very good at my job.

I keep the SMT’s diaries in order.  I keep the kitchen supplied with good coffee and tea.  I keep the supply cupboards full.  I keep the phones answered, the computers working, the filing done.  I don’t do any of this alone, I work with a good team.  I have an excellent receptionist, an excellent projects assistant and, usually, an excellent accounts manager.  Us girls (as we are all women, whereas the SMT is all male) kick ass on a regular basis to keep a science park where 1200 people work ticking over.

We keep the lights on and the hot water coming.  We pride ourselves, when we are asked for a file, to be able to put our hands on it without thinking about it.  We are the Admin Team.  Don’t mess with us.  You won’t like what happens if you do.

So, if you have a PA or an AA or a Secretary, thank them.  Thank them for putting up with the shit work you make them do (filing sucks, okay?).  Thank them for the coffee they make and the phones they answer.  A Please and a Thank You goes a long way.  A happy Admin Team is a happy office.  Always.

What’s The Point?

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Apparently there has been a call for a ‘content boycott’ on Live Journal for tomorrow, to protest the removal of new free accounts.  Forget the fact that it has apparently turned into an Anti-Semitic statement, I want to know what the hell the point is.

How, exactly, does not posting content hurt LJ or its parent company?  Lack of ad revenue?  People will still be accessing the site and seeing the ads, don’t tell me they won’t.  Of course they will, to see if anyone posted anything or if they are boycotting.  Also?  LJ is still going to charge for *having* an LJ tomorrow.  They don’t charge by the day, of course, but they also don’t charge by content.  So what the hell is this going to prove?

I think its just like the ‘don’t buy gas’ boycotts the US has had.  So you buy the same gas you would have bought on that day the next day or the day before the boycott.  So you post what you wanted to post tomorrow, today or Saturday.  Totally pointless.

Granted, Live Journal has majorly screwed up lately.  There was the mass journal deletion episode, there is now an ‘adult filter’ feature on the site and they just announced that you can’t make a free account any more.  You either have to have ads on your LJ or pay for your LJ.  BUT, they are not removing basic accounts, just not allowing any new ones, so who are they hurting? New users?  Okay, bummer for the new users.

But LJ is a business.  They are in it to make money.  Granted, totally free and ad free accounts do lead to revenue generation, but they are pretty solid in the market.  Greatest Journal, who quite a few people went to after LJ screwed up with the closing of accounts last year, couldn’t take the strain and everyone I know who moved over there? Has moved back to LJ.

So boycott, don’t boycott, its up to you.  But don’t expect it to make a damn bit of difference to LJ’s new owners.

The Amusing Thing About Yesterday

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was my conversation with the psychiatrist.

He would say “Some people hear things, or see things that aren’t there, do you ever do that?”

I would say “No, I have never hallucinated.”

He would say “Do you have the need to do things over and over again?”

I would say “No, I do not have OCD.”

And so on, until I wanted to say to him, Look, I probably know the DSM-IV as well as you do, so just use the damn names for things!

When I told him I’d been on lithium, xanax and trazadone, he looked amazed.  “At the same time?”  More or less.

He did, however, sum me up very nicely. “You do well on meds.  You do okay for awhile off meds, and then it all goes pear shaped for a bit.  But overall, you’re doing fine!”

My family is amused by the saying ‘pear shaped’.  Not a US saying.

Well, That Was Exhausting…

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Since I hadn’t been to the Psych department in so long, the Doctor took an entire history again.  Do they not realize how painful it is to go through everything that’s happened in the last 15 years all over again?  Of course they do.  Wankers.

The final decision was to not put me on any meds.  I am coping more or less okay, its better for the fetus if and when I get pregnant etc etc etc.  Of course, he told me to go to my GP for a new referral if I felt this wasn’t working for me.

Wasn’t my original Psychiatrist, which sort of pissed me off, as I was hoping it would be him so he’d know my history.  This guy hadn’t even read my chart before I got into his little room.  That annoyed me as well.

The other difficult part was the woman sitting behind me in the reception area, bitching about how she’d been betrayed and what the hell was she doing with all the crazy people? I really wanted to turn around and tell her to shut the fuck up, some of us crazy people need this shit.  But I bit my tongue.  And had to laugh when she commented that the reception area looks like a 1930s ward from some movie, because it does.

Why do they do that? Why do they put the ‘modern’ psych units into the creepiest building they can find?  KP, back in California, was the same way.  The Department of Psychology and Psychiatry was in the old Home for the Incurables (I kid you not) in Oakland California. It was such a creepy building.

Home now, enjoying my last day off before next weekend, when I have another four day weekend!

Happy St Patrick’s Day!

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No, I’ve not had any green beer. Or any beer. I had a lovely glass of wine last night, though.

Spent the morning cleaning the flat. Going to spend the afternoon putting together our new piece of furniture and putting things away. Maybe we’ll be unpacked by the time we have to decide if we’re moving again. That’ll be next January.

In other news, I see my psychiatrist tomorrow. I haven’t seen him in about 3 years. I think it was just after Simon and I got married that he released me back to my GP for meds monitoring.So very different here than in the US. In the US I would have seen him non-stop. And probably a psychologist also. I think I had one psychology session ages ago here in the UK.

I think about finding a private therapist, but its very expensive in order to just go and talk to someone. NHS won’t cover it. At least, not long term.

We’ll see what he says tomorrow. I think I do need to be back on meds, just not sure what kind. Too many ‘bad’ days lately. Better living through chemistry, indeed.

Ode to a Luggage Carrier…

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About 20 years ago I inherited a gray plastic and metal collapsible luggage carrier from my step-dad.  I have no idea where he got it, but it couldn’t have cost more than $20 20 plus years ago.

It has been on airplanes, after hauling luggage.  It has hauled dirty laundry to the laundry room.  It hauled our old washing machine at our old flat to the curb for pick up.  It has hauled flat packed bookcases from car to house.

Today we used it to haul three flat pack modular units from Argos to the flat, about 4 blocks, to add to our furniture collection.  And I noticed that it is finally broken.  One of the pieces seems to have snapped in half.  It managed to haul the units home, but once they are no longer attached I think it will be time to trash the trusty old thing.

I doubt I will ever find anything as good to replace it.  It has truly prevailed.

Good bye old plastic and metal luggage carrier.  I will miss you. 🙂

Of Course…

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I have the next four days off.  Saturday and Sunday are, of course, the weekend.  Monday is St Patrick’s Day (unless you are Catholic, then the Pope says its today, as there can’t be another holiday during Holy Week) and Tuesday I took as a holiday. So, Of Course… I woke up sneezing and sniffling.  No coughing yet, but I feel it is on the horizon.  Oh, and my eyes are tearing.

I am trying something new with this cold.  I usually carry around little packs of kleenex with me.  This time I have nicked one of Simon’s cotton hankies.  Its clean, I took it right out of the basket of laundry to be folded (and if someone has a way to get laundry to fold itself and put itself away, please stop hiding it from the rest of the world, kthxbai).  There is something comforting about a clean cotton hanky when you are sneezing your head off.

I am suppose to be going to get my haircut in about an hour and a half, but I contemplating canceling.  I do need to go out today as Simon and I want to buy a cabinet thingy for the living room so we can finish unpacking this weekend, but I am thinking an hour at the hairdresser might be pushing it.  I’ll decide in a bit.

Of course, it doesn’t help that it is freezing cold and raining today.  I wish the Lion part of March would end already so we can get to the Lamb part.

I am Absolutely Thrilled

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That people are reading this blog. But, would you mind commenting? Or at least sending me an email (tee AT leyser DOT org) (ya know with the @ and the . and no spaces!)? And tell me what you think? Or how you found me?

I do have a stats page, but it isn’t very good, I am looking for a new one.

Any bloggers out there have a favorite stats page that works with Word Press?

In other news, I’ve had a horrid week at work. I am very very good at my job. Except this week when everything I touched turned to crap. I ordered the wrong size envelopes. I gave my boss the wrong record sheet of returned information, three times. I know I did more bad stuff than that, but at the moment I can’t remember what it was.

Let’s put it this way, I was in such a foul mood earlier today, from all my screw ups this week, that Peter, our security guard from Reception, came in to talk to me, waving his hanky like a white flag. At least it was funny!

Hearing About Mr Betterly’s Passing

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and blogging about it yesterday, as led to me thinking about other teachers who inspired me.

I realized, as I thought back over the approximately 20 years of my education, from pre-school through University, that all of the teachers I can remember clearly, who inspired me, who helped lead me to where I am today, were from my 2 years at Emma Willard School.

There was Mr Betterly, who taught me History. And Mr Turner, who I never had in class, but was my adviser my Senior Year, who would sit me down in his office and make me tell him what I wanted to be ‘when I grew up’. And Mr Davidson and Mr Patterson (who I never actually called Mr Davidson and Mr Patterson, but Brian and Vaughn), who gave me my love of theatre.

There was Ms Carroll, who taught me to write well, and Ms Hamner, who was Acting Head Mistress and Senior Class Adviser while I was there, and who also made me sit in her office and tell me what I wanted to be ‘when I grew up’.

There was a French teacher, whose name escapes me, who managed to put up with me mangling the language and my antics with the girl who sat next me (whose name also escapes me) when he asked how you say chicken in French and we answered chickon!   Which of course became our swear word for the year.  OH CHICKON! (you have to say with a French accent. I swear its hysterically funny).  And he never once tried to separate us!

I am sure there were others, during those 2 years, and if I had unpacked my year books yet, I could tell you about them.

I Just Got Some Sad News

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I just found out, through our alumni email, that one of my favorite High School teachers just died. He must have been early 70s or late 80s, as he was late 50s early 60s when he taught me 25 years ago.

Jack Betterly was a real hippie. He taught sitting cross legged on his desk, his Native American beaded wrist bands glistening in the florescent lights. He wore turquoise earrings and a beaded neck band as well. He taught History and inspired me to write the best research paper of my life (which I think I still have some where) on Leonardo Da Vinci and his Inventions. I got an A on that paper.

RIP Mr Betterly. Thanks for teaching me and generations of other young women at Emma Willard School. You will be missed.