My hand is killing me.
For the past two days, my boss has me writing thank you cards. By hand.
I don't mind writing them by hand because I know that's the proper etiquette.
A typed thank you card is just not the same as a hand written one.
What I do mind - the thank yous are for an event that happened two months before I began the job.
So that means 1) they are super late and 2) these people never heard of me but they sure are getting a personalized thank you from me.
And there's like over a 100 people on the list.
So my freaking hand hurts.
To add to injury - I have other deadlines to make. So I've only finished about 50 of these thank yous - even though it feels like a million.
Today was stressful - very much so. We (I) am up against deadline for a major sponsorship. I told my boss the deadline was today at 3pm. Why on Earth they thought that meant tomorrow is beyond me. I hate stringing people along because I hate being strung along myself.
So when I tell someone they will have an answer by 2, I mean it.
Oh. My. Not so much my company.
I think its rude to semi-commit to a deadline and then tell the person 'we'll get to you when we get to you' - it's selfish and somewhat conceited. As if we are so great they will wait around for us.
Luckily, they are waiting for us. That doesn't mean we are that great.
To get today out of my mind - I went rolling skating after work. Word.
Now, my thighs are killing me.
Do you want to feel old for a three hours? Go to a roller rink. The deejay announced that he was going to take us back to old school with some jams...
are you ready for what he played?
for the old school jams?
I hope you are sitting down...wait for it...
MotherFuck. I am old. How the world did N'Sync become old school?
Then I realized when the group I was with and myself were the only ones singing along, knowing all the words.
You know you are old when you are surrounded by a bunch of kids that were still in their nappies when N'Sync was the shit.
Bye, Bye, Bye.