Superwoman

In the middle of a 10am-12nn meeting, I received a text message from my boss expecting my weekly report by 1 pm.  Not a problem, it’s a report I’ve been doing every week since I took on the job 2 weeks earlier.  All I had to do was consolidate 10 excel files, summarize them, validate the accuracy of the figures, analyze them, double check them, create 5 separate reports and send them to 5 different groups, and then merge them all again into 1 report to send to a different set of people, and I’m done.  After all, I’ve survived countless sleepless nights in college preparing for an IE exam after running 5 km. in football training as warm up.  Even solving calculus problems in my sleep just to maximize the time.  I’ve triumphed over a bladder ready to explode in order to meet my deadlines at my previous job.  This report was in the bag. Except that I had exactly 60 minutes to go after my meeting was adjourned.  Considering the rush hour traffic in Makati, the ride back to my office in Mandaluyong and the thousand of minutes I had, the report was more than do-able and I am Superwoman.

I was ready to fly when I realized I haven’t swallowed the magic stone and put on my blue tights – I was still in my trousers and button-down shirt.  So I decided first to inform the boss of my sked, hoping she’d be considerate enough to extend the deadline.  Appealing to her better judgment was so worth it.  1pm deadline became 1:30pm. With just 1 text message, my 60 minutes lengthened to 90 minutes.  Work would then be a cinch.  I could really use the extra 30 minutes to grab a Caramel Macchiato and a chocolate dipped donut, and even have it warmed.  I may have extra time also to catch up on my emails which have probably gone up to a hundred by then.  Maybe even enough time for a walk in the park.

 In the office, every day was the same.  Every day was normal.  There was not much time pressure because most deadlines are end of day, and when I say end of day, it really is end of day, like 11:45pm when everyone else is at home sleeping or out drinking.  Because working hours of 8am-5pm are reserved for meetings.  One morning, I received an email and text message again from the boss saying she needs the weekly reports to be in by 12nn.  It was 10:45am.  She’s a fast learner.  I bet she figured if she gave me an hour again I would ask for an extension so out of the goodness of her heart she gave me extra 15 minutes without waiting for me to ask for it.  Everything was under control.  I just needed that extra 15 minutes to get coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.

During our team lunch aka welcome and goodbye lunch for the new people in the office who are also leaving – I’m one of them, the boss asked me to cite the qualifications needed for my position.  Before I could say anything, she blurts out – “Oh, and don’t say superwoman!”

Why didn’t they tell me that during the interviews?!  No wonder I’m unemployed now.  I was over-qualified.

~ by Ch!E on 28 May, 2009.