Welcome to the corporate rat race…**

9:10am:

Arrive at work ten minutes late mumbling something incomprehensible about traffic, despite clutching a Starbucks with my hair full of shag tats. The three people who have actually arrived on time don’t care so I stop mid-sentence and sit down.

9:20am: 

Quick scope of the immediate area to check that enough people have got a hot drinks so I can offer to do the brew round safely in the knowledge that everyone will decline and I can go and make my own in peace.

9.40am:

Finally get back to my desk after getting cornered by the office rent-a-gob who took it upon himself to tell me every car he’s ever owned. “Oh you drive an Audi? Bit fast for a little women like you isn’t it? HAR HAR HAR.”  Check emails.

9.40am:

The serial sick-note of the office has sent today’s excuse to all@ rather than just his manager. I suppose I should be pissed off that he always get away with this, but honestly I’m impressed. I should take notes.

10:00am: 

Hunger pangs set in as I realise I completely forgot breakfast, again. I notice an unopened birthday cake on the meeting table brought in for someone on another team I’ve only spoken to once. I wait anxiously for someone to take the first slice so I can go up, but nobody does. 

10:10am: 

Roll eyes. Apparently “you know that e-mail I CC’d you into last week?” actually translates to “I’m wondering why you haven’t completely dealt with that e-mail I CC’d you into last week, even though you weren’t the primary recipient and I haven’t bothered to mention it to you since.” 

10.30am: 

Start campaign planning for a new client. I actually start to get excited until I thud back down to earth realising that 90% of my ideas are too “out the box” for the middle aged men who control the budgets. Start over.

11.59am: 

Stare desperately at the laptop clock willing it to turn to 12 so I can eat.

office diary

1:00pm:

Notice one of my colleagues having a self-contained breakdown by the printer she must have just broken. She’s clearly panicking but not asking anyone for help, probably because she’s trying to print something she shouldn’t. Like CV’s.

2:00pm:

In the middle of writing a press release when I have to stop to read the daily passive aggressive email off the fella-who-thinks-he’s-my-boss-but-isn’t. Copy and paste it to the private Skype group we’ve called “the real MVP” with a bitchy comment. Check I didn’t send it to him by accident 4 times a minute for the next ten minutes.

2.30pm:

Scroll through the Daily Mail’s sidebar of shame, only in Marketing can this be seen as research. Not that I should worry; I can clearly see a colleague watching an entire episode of The Inbetweeners on 4OD without even a faint attempt at being discreet.

3:00pm:

Someone has sent an all user email about a work night out next week, which is basically the start of a free-for-all competition of who can reply with the most relevant mediocre meme. I can here murder kicking off in a meeting room.

4:00pm:

Another passive aggressive email from the fella-who-thinks-he’s-my-boss-but-isn’t, this time asking for work to be done by tomorrow morning at 4pm. Cute.

4:30pm:

My colleagues and I pretend we’re doing a client handover and head to a meeting room to discuss putting and end to his reign of terror/enjoy the air conditioning which seems to be reserved solely for client meetings. We spend a good five minutes talking about the (still unopened) birthday cake.

5:00pm:

Mass exodus of everyone who shut their computers down at five to and waited patiently to bail. I’m staying late – partly because I was late this morning and partly because the murder in one of the meeting rooms is still going on and, frankly, I live for drama.

Until next time… x

** Did I write this, or did an anonymous source? Is it true? Who knows.Welcome to the world of PR and marketing.

 

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