Talk about backing yourself into a corner.
On my first full day back I had a staff meeting and ended up volunteering myself to write a second draft of a VERY important document (I know I've mentioned it off-blog to some of you, but suffice to say it could be have a national implication for us).
So on top of my usual workload and return from vacation, I've been slogging in extra hours trying to track down statistics, rephrase and edit my bosses writing for her, and please all elements of our complex department about their role in the document. So "PHEW" is the word, as I have now handed it off to my boss to work on tonight since it has to be submitted very soon.
Why exactly, in the face of the silence of others, is it always me who gallantly puts herself forward to assist? Am I genetically programmed to be over-committed? (And yet still feel like I don't work half as hard as I should be doing...?)
No answers on postcards please, but if you can send round Dougie or David (T that is; too many Davids on the scene) to provide a comforting hug I'd be awful grateful. Since Cloudy Neil is on a training course at Hinkley each day this week, I'm many more hours from getting a comforting hug from him, so something to tide me over would be very nice...
2 comments:
"if you can send round Dougie or David (T that is; too many Davids on the scene)"
For a brief ecstatic moment my hopes were raised; at last, I thought, she has seen the light, acknowledged true love transmitted through mysterious ether of the World Wide Web, and finally those ring-hoop tights are mine, all mine! But alas, my hopes are dashed - be still my beating heart.
(Anyway, who's this Dougie bloke, that's what I want to know?)
Thought you'd never ask.
Huggs
and more
Thanks.
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