My boss has been uncharacteristically thoughtful this week, even asking me first if I would mind handling her calls. Usually she dispenses with the asking part, preferring instead to leave an element of surprise. Like the time her cleaner called having set off her house alarm, it took nearly an hour, amidst ear-piercing screams of ‘hurry please, the police come soon’, to calm the women down. On the real workload front though it’s been fairly quiet as my boss’s ‘side –lining’ plan for me has really kicked in. I’ve managed to keep busy though by tracking the number of times that she says ‘got, or getting pregnant’ when referring to my current state. So far this week she’s achieved a top score of nine, and that was with her being out of the office for two days, guess she’ll do a lot better next week with her being scheduled as ‘in office’ every day.
There was also a new starter this week which pleased my boss no end, the finance manager, male and fit, if you like the revived Miami Vice look that my boss obviously favours. I’m pretty certain though that she’s told him that I’m his personal assistant, as on his third day I found a document on my desk with a note attached saying ‘three copies’. Of course I put him straight and showed him where the photocopier was so that he can learn the art of copying for himself. I also took the opportunity to have a word with him about his penchant for surfing topless calendar girl websites, after I’d received several complaints from members in my team that they found it distracting to hear ‘Hi, I’m Cindy’ over and over as he clicked on his obvious favourite.
I’m seriously concerned though that I’ve already put on all of the acceptable maternity weight, hardly surprising as I’ve endured buffet lunch meetings and a canapés evening this week, where I got cornered into conversation with a ‘business partner’, a man in his fifties, who I’m sure was wearing ‘status shoes’ as he insisted on staring into my eyes and not at my bust as is his usual trick.
The ‘piece de resistance’ though was the ‘strategy awareness’ event, 24hrs away from the office pretending to be friends with my boss, whilst my team bickered over who wasn’t going to sit next to her. Held at a mid-price range hotel, my boss’s idea of a ‘treat’ for the troops, only one of my staff took the ‘treat’ part a little too far and managed to get himself caught with a ‘Class A’ drug. I spent the evening ‘sorting it’ with the hotel manager, as commanded by my seething boss, ‘tell him we’ll pay more for his silence on the matter, but he has to sign a confidentiality agreement’, my boss instructed, clearly not realising that we were the ones on the back foot. Seems the sniffer did us all a favour though, as my boss had decided that a memo will suffice to raise awareness in future.