I am writing about work, again. I am sitting here enjoying the start of my four day weekend, when I get a call from, are you ready for it....WORK. It is my fault. I realized when I got off the phone that sometimes I don't tell anyone how to do certain parts of my job. I don't know if it's my desire for being needed, or maybe my hope that they realize the place would fall apart without me, thus saving myself from ever losing my job.
Of course, I knew it was them and answered the phone. I don't call the other assistants to ask them questions about merchandising, because it can wait until they get back. My job, however, always needs an answer immediately it seems. I do bother Michael sometimes at home, but he bothers me too.
Sidebar: the other day the new assistant was told that Michael and I argue like an old married couple by one of the associates. Made me laugh and realize that we have been working together for 16 years now. That lasted longer than my marriage. Scary thought.
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