05 July 2006

viva arsenal . . . er, i mean france

I interviewed really poorly for a job today. Shame. Just...bad. I wasn't in the mood and it directly followed the realisation that I had f***ed up big time a large mailing we spent heaps of ££ on; I co-ordinated it, prepared the list, etc and as 'invalid address' packs started to pour in, realised that my Excel sort clearly had somehow gone a bit funny at the proverbial eleventh hour and the first line of nearly everyone's address went pear-shaped and 5,000 packages went out to incorrect postal addresses around the world. With first class postage. And an external mailing house (paid) to carry out all the work. Sigh.

So I must make a new list, and by hand solely open each package, make a new label, re-stuff new envelope and post again. Did I mention there were 5,000?

I used to have the bloody word Director in my job title, for God's sake - surely I shouldn't be expected to mail merge properly and should have people to do this.

Funny, I never (rarely) used to make mistakes in any job that I have done, but in my current one, I seem to make them fairly often. New kind of pressure? Red tape? Geordie boss? One couldn't begin to guess...

01 July 2006

q: how do you know when . . .

. . . you have officially become an honourary english girl. . . ?

a: when you too look and feel like this* when this happens

(*awaiting sad photos to turn up on web for pasting)