Don't childproof your house...cage your children!

There are a lot of people in the world who should probably lose their jobs. One of them is the guy at Wendy's who would read my order back wrong every single time because he thought it was funny. Another is whichever marketing genius came up with this ad for the North States Superyard (a product intended for “young toddlers or small pets”):

One might surmise that this child (who we can all agree is neither a young toddler nor small pet), was put in there to keep him safe from the roaring fireplace. Well, dear marketing executives, even my two year old gets the concept of "fire hot" and manages to stay away on his own. It is more likely that he was confined to this 15 square foot hexagonal hell because his mother is a raging psychopath. The main piece of evidence from which I drew that conclusion is that she's wearing a button up shirt just to hang around the house. The second piece of evidence is that the house is immaculate and the only evidence that a child lives there is a wagon and a book entitled "Christmas” (and oh what a sad, sad, Christmas it’s going to be).

Here's an idea - lose the antique urn and get the kid some Matchbox cars. That wagon isn’t cutting it. Sure he might like to wheel it around to kill time until he turns eighteen, or better yet, use it as a way to climb out, set fire to that bouquet of dried peonies, torch the place, and escape into the night. But until he plans all that out, it’s really going to suck taking one step and banging into a wall over and over again.

So listen up North States: if you find yourself in need of a consultant who knows the appropriate age range for a kiddie corral, give me a call.

Or, if you're just looking for a new secretary, I type 80 wpm.

Worst Personalized Gift Suggestion Ever?

You Guys Are Gonna Miss Me Until The Temp Shows Up

Man, oh man. You guys don’t know how good you have it right now. Maybe you haven’t thought about this, but someday, maybe soon, I won’t be working here anymore. Someday I’m going to move on to bigger and better things, and suddenly everything is going to blow up in your face. That’s right. The phone that I’m always answering? Someday it’s going to be ringing off the hook and you’ll say to yourself “Crap! Who’s going to answer that before the temp gets here in twenty minutes?” And the answer to that question will be, “One of the other secretaries that still works here.”

It is at that moment that you’ll realize how truly screwed you are until the temp is able to find a parking space downstairs. 

 
I’ve worked for this company for almost ten years. I’ve built up trust and confidence with our clients, and I’ve learned all of the ins and outs of this company. I know where you get your haircut and how you like your turkey sandwiches. Experience like mine should not be taken for granted. So until a girl who looks exactly like me from the back figures out where the elevator is, the shit is going to hit the fan. I’m just letting you know. 

 
I probably shouldn’t even mention all the filing that’s going to pile up without me around. I mean, who do you think is going to painstakingly file away each document in the next few minutes before the temp figures out if she should turn left or right at the end of the corridor? I think you know the answer.

I almost feel sorry for you people. Helpless. Incompetent. Unable to manage the simplest administrative tasks until Randstad types a few keywords into their database and finds a recent college grad to send over for ten bucks an hour. But hey, that’s life. Most of us never realize what we have until the temp gets stuck in traffic on I-495. 

 
So let’s use this as a learning opportunity. Toss a “thank you” my way once in a while. Don’t skip Administrative Professionals Day. And in return, maybe I’ll stick around for another ten years.

Because I think I’d really miss you guys until a way better job showed up.

Happy Valentine's Day

From my office cleaning lady to yours:

Corporate Jargon Conversation Hearts

Dear Necco,

Picture this.  It’s February 14, 2013.  You’re in a conference room filled with high powered executives. A man, late forties, is concluding his Powerpoint presentation.  He’s been in the advertising industry for twenty years, but it never gets any easier.  Winning this account would be everything.  It would mean that trip to Ireland he and his wife have been dreaming about.  It would be the highlight of his career.

He glances at the executives seated around the table - and at one in particular.  A woman, mid fifties, is scribbling on a pad of legal paper. The decision is hers, but she remains stone-faced.  After what seems an eternity, she looks up and reaches into a small bowl that has been sitting unnoticed on the conference room table.  With a wry smile she tosses the man a Sweethearts Conversation Heart candy. Relief and joy wash over him as he catches it with sweating palms and reads the simple phrase:

And so, I present to you - Corporate Jargon Conversation Hearts. Certain to delight both the executive in your life, and the people in your life who can’t stand executives.

Should this new line of candy make you millions of dollars, I only ask that you give me some of it.  I don’t need any of the candies, as I think they’re kind of gross.

Sincerely,
Secretary4Life

Be My Low-Hanging Fruit

Let’s Circle Back

You’re On My Plate

We’ve Come Full Circle

Can I Bend Your Ear? 

On My Radar

We’re A Win-Win

Gojo!

Did they use pink soap to write the note too?  

IT Guy Asked to Put Together Bookcase

IT professional of eleven years, Chuck Brennan, 44, was in the middle of a complex firewall installation on Thursday, when asked if he wouldn’t mind putting together the new bookcase that just came in, when he gets a chance.

Brennan, who has neither the experience nor the desire to perform the degrading manual labor often asked of him, is unsure where exactly in his job description it says that he’s the office fucking handyman.

“I have a Master’s Degree in Information Technology” stated Brennan, gesturing toward the multitude of framed certificates displayed on his cubicle walls.  “But because I’m over forty, wear jeans to work, and made the mistake of mentioning a fleeting interest in Big Buck Hunter, people suddenly think I want to help them clear out the storage room.”

The bookcase, which Brennan barely even knows how to get out of the God damned box, requires the use of a wrench - a tool that everybody assumes he has because “he’s got all sorts of plugs and stuff over there.”

“A wrench, yeah I’ve got a wrench,” said Brennan, setting aside the fate of company security so that office manager, Shannon Cresley, will have somewhere to stick her binders.  “I had to buy a wrench last month when they assumed I knew how to fix a pipe in the break room sink.”

“Thank God for eHow,” he added.

In addition to maintaining network servers, performing daily backups of critical company files, and training the entire worthless organization on the use of Microsoft Office 2010, Brennan has also been able to add “vacuuming up rodent droppings” and “figuring out why it’s fifty degrees on this side of the office, but hot as hell on the other side” to his resume.

“It’s cool though,” said Brennan, hammering the last nail into the company’s new bookcase/proverbial coffin.  “Come Monday, when my latest Trojan is running buck wild through their wide open network like a pack of rabid hyenas, we’ll just see who has the time to assemble furniture.”

“Or, you know, go to lunch.”