Jacelyn • Filed under: Personal, Ranting, Thoughts, Work • 12:26 am •
Sometimes I really hate myself for being so vunerable. Problems surfacing again and again. When will I get out of this shit :doh:
I hate that fucking boss of mine. He was lecturing some of us and insulted me. This happened a few days ago, but the mention of it just makes my blood boil. It wasn’t my fault you see. And I have to endure that insult, residing in my heart, burning inside my stomach
There was this exhibition being held near our premises. The sales people, 2 of them, were supposed to pull in some businesses from there, as there are agents from other countries as well. I didn’t know about this exhibition at all, probably being the lazy me and having the bo chap (don’t care) attitude, I don’t even bother to read the weekly bulletin (though I’m the one who compiled :p).
And so, this colleague of mine, let’s call her C. She needed my help in designing a brochure to distribute to the people who will be attending the exhibition. Initially, she asked my supervisor about her opinion on the one she did. Apparently, my supervisor told her that it is not suitable. Therefore, she turned to me for help. She briefly explained to me what she expects to see on the brochure, even though she don’t even know what she wants, or rather what the BOSS wants. Having a super duper blur and I-don’t-know-what-is-this-all-about mind, I hastily designed one. Ok lah not that bad, at least I tried ya? I was given instructions what to write, what to add and what to include in that bloody brochure. And for god’s sake, it’s not even a brochure, just a tiny looking card not bigger than a namecard -_-
Anyway, after I’ve finished designing the card, she brought it to the boss and asked him whether it is up to his expectation. Ha whenever the boss gave us a task, we have to get his opinion you see. Yah, like what the boss said, everyone of us there have always been spoon-fed. Always turning to him for help.
A few minutes later, I was called in to his room, together with a few colleagues of mine. His face was even blacker than a Bangala’s face. So he started telling his grandfather story, blah blah blah. You must do this, you must do that. Why never do this, why never do that, etc. Asking why are we doing things at the last minute. I was twiddling my pen, not really listening lah, trying my best not to fall asleep.
Continue Reading »
Plugs: Jacelyn, leah, angel, karen*