No One Remembers Mary Meek
- ellie jones
- Nov 12, 2015
- 2 min read
achievents to date
I want a job
I was born to commute
BE AGGRESSIVE
always remember to put deodorant on
smile
get involved
no one remembers Mary Meek
z list ex-roofers are a list bellends
Fridays goals:
address everyone by their name
network, network, network
dont get sweaty
Today was a good day.
The morning commute is like any other (as accustomed as I am these days), sweaty.
Self-afirmations are a struggle today. I can't help feeling like I'm squandering a valuable an absolutely crucial opportunity -- when did I become some meek and fucking mild? NO ONE REMEMBERS MARY MEEK *multiple wailing emojis*
I walk into the offices hyperventilating, to outsiders I must look either hot and bothered, a bit loose or American. Not unlike America, the security guard opens the door for me and greets me ("thank you, sir it is I your future Editor in fucking chief" I say. to myself.).
I get feed back on my transcribing which was fine (yay -- fuck you, inner voice).
My desk (MY DESK!) is on it's own little island. Now from the outside in I might look like Queen Bee but I feel more like Mr. Lonely. Everyone is lovely, lovely but understandably very busy and more often than not I'm transcribing with my headphones in (which I actually really enjoy) and I'm finding networking nigh on impossible. I really want to be rememebered -- it's a great office, magazine and bunch of journalists -- and now, more than ever, I really want to crack this idusty. NOTICE MEEEEEEE. A brainwave! The way to anyones heart ? Food. I shall win thier emails with food.
I spend my lunch in tescos purchasing malteasers and writing my social media details all over the box (I'm a fucking genius, and what). This is a great ice breaker, they'll remember maltearser girl when she asks for a reference for sure.
Oh, I'm now so close to being an actual authentic Londoner that I commute in trainers and change into 'office shoes' in the office. *I sneezed on the beat, and the beat got sicker.*
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