Monday, October 4, 2010

I ain't your B

So, it has been well documented that my to do list for the rest of the calendar year is patently impossible. Like, not even a little possible. Like, completely totally untenable. Like, hire an intern. And on the list are a variety of things, large and small, which will take anywhere from 3 hours to 3 days to accomplish. It's painful.

It is with that background that I had 2 separate conversations today, both about joint tasks of about 30 minutes in length. Maybe an hour. Due soon.

Conversation 1 - with a nice person equally overloaded.

Me: We have to make the slides. 2 of them.

Him: Let me send you my raw materials.

Me: Okay, let's talk. Who should do this? 

Him: Well, I'm busy for the next hour - want to slap something together and I'll iterate on it?

Me: Sure, okay. Dude, I'm swamped.

Him: Me too. Totally.

Fine. I got suckered with the work. But, meh. things happen.

Conversation 2 - with a newbie with no social capital to spend AT ALL. And no organizational knowledge.

Me: So, what is it you want?

Him: [invoke senior person] wants this communicated ASAP.

Me: Where *this* is some subset of information encapsulated in the attached 10 emails.

Him: Yes.

Me: Okay, we get about 400 words. And you've read the emails - want to take a shot at writing a draft?

Him: ME???

Me: Yes - I'm swamped. I won't get to it for days.

Him: Well, you know what you're doing, and you have the context and I've been in marketing and I know that doing this will take you 15 minutes, whereas for me, starting fresh, it will take hours.

Me, thinking - 15 minutes? It would take me more time to sort through the nonsense in these emails to congeal the actual facts from the "go bob! well done steve!"

Me: Flattery will get you nowhere. I'll work on it later this week.
Him: I wouldn't say it if I didn't know it was true.

DEAR GOODNESS. Really? 15 minutes? I feel shafted. I feel like never replying to this person's email anymore. I don't want to meet him. I already dislike him. And, this is time that comes directly out of my sleep. because that's all that's left anymore to eat from - sleep and the occasional shower. And this buffoon has the audacity to treat me like his writing wench by invoking the name of Senior_Leader.

When balls drop... there are some balls worth saving. And some that simply disappear.

No comments: