Why is it some girls just have to put others down?
A female client put me through the grill and shredder this week. I have learnt that the client is not always smarter than you (as they have to cover more markets) and probably just want to impress on other people that they are smart.
Because frankly, her line of questioning didn't go anywhere except to contradict whatever I said. It got to the stage where she contradicted me back to the point where we started, and ended up contradicting herself in the process, which I calmly and sweetly pointed out by saying "Ahh, which is back to what I mentioned earlier at the beginning, where blablabla.."
She wouldn't give up, and started a whole new line of questioning which was utterly pointless save to probably drive home the point that 1) she totally doesn't have a life that she has to torment others, 2) she is superior than me cos she's my client and I have to take it and 3) her being fat and ugly must really be a thorn in her backside that she has to overcompensate elsewhere.
I have learnt patience. Yoda. Actually, you can't not have learnt it in this job where you meet literally hundreds of clients. Forced by circumstance, not choice.
------------
Except today I got so PMS-y I whined and whined about my assistant to my boss. An office-ful of guys sometimes don't get the point, because he said, "This is a problem. It needs to be fixed. Fix it like this. Otherwise, we fire him."
*rolls eyes*
I don't want to get anyone fired. I just want to rant, lah.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
asking the world of me
The world, is asking the world of me.
I don't think I'm up for it. Initiating on a whole new company in a week, from modelling to report, is simply.... impossible. Try doing that when you're busy downgrading somebody else, meeting clients, going on conference calls, and having a useless associate who "forgets" to do the work and slinks off quietly from the office.
And has the ballsiness to, on the first day of the job, ask me to put his name together on my reports. And wants to email the big boss directly to ask, as if he's worried I will be selfish and won't ask.
What the *toot*.
-------------------------
Was so exhausted I just COULDN'T get out of bed today. So here I sit at 9am, waiting for the jam to clear so I can head to the office. Plus a major hangover from a client dinner last night.
Still don't know if it's worth it. I'll check back in when the bonus comes.
I don't think I'm up for it. Initiating on a whole new company in a week, from modelling to report, is simply.... impossible. Try doing that when you're busy downgrading somebody else, meeting clients, going on conference calls, and having a useless associate who "forgets" to do the work and slinks off quietly from the office.
And has the ballsiness to, on the first day of the job, ask me to put his name together on my reports. And wants to email the big boss directly to ask, as if he's worried I will be selfish and won't ask.
What the *toot*.
-------------------------
Was so exhausted I just COULDN'T get out of bed today. So here I sit at 9am, waiting for the jam to clear so I can head to the office. Plus a major hangover from a client dinner last night.
Still don't know if it's worth it. I'll check back in when the bonus comes.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Bonjour 2011
It's 2011, and I'm settling down to have my breakfast cum lunch meal of self-prepared seafood fusilli marinara.. at 530pm in the evening. The London sale buys are scattered haphazardly around my sofa and living room, evidence of a pretty disorganized unpacking strategy.
"Oooh these are the shoes i bought!" *tries on* *hmm looks good..* *then gets distracted*
"But what's this? Aaah my 50-pound Karen Millen dress which used to be 250 pounds!!* *grabs dress to try on, and shoes lie forgotten*
Repeat for the next 5 handbags, 2 pairs of shoes, 8-9 boxes of sprungli and laderach chocolates, tea boxes, soaps, accessories.
Flew home from my Europe holiday, and flew right into 2011.
The reality of the matter is, after spending the bulk of last year on sleepless nights, report launches, and killing myself over my job, I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself in 2011. All I know is I do NOT want a repeat of 2010, which explains why I told my boss yesterday I want another day's leave today to spend it curling up with vongole, blogging and distracting my friends who all went back to work today. I had to settle a whole lot of personal admin stuff like paying bills, doing laundry etc, but it's extremely boring to talk about one's laundry.
But shall I tell you about Paris? Yes, I shall. It started on a pretty sad foot (literally!) as I got hit with a bout of rheumatism on my legs. Yeah, shut up. Rheumy Achilles tendons are for 70 year olds apparently, but I've had them off and on since I was 10. It hits every time I sleep without covering my ankles in a blanket, and stupid me slept that way in the middle of a London winter.
Asking to die, seriously.
So we were waiting at the Gare du Nord metro for the train to go to our hotel when an old French dude taps me on the shoulder and starts sputtering away in French, pointing at my limping leg. I started stammering... "aahhh.. Je ne... parle pas..." when he said the word "Massage". So i decided it would be much easier to nod and say "oui, oui" than attempt to carry on a conversation with the ancient old dude who probably lived through the French revolution.
The rest of Paris, minus the bad leg, was breathtaking. Especially the *only* RM3k large Epi leather Noir LV Speedy I managed to bag! Those sort of price tag is unheard of! Oh but yes, the view from the Sacre Coeur was similarly mindblowing, too. This picture does not do it justice.
It was just very cold. Nearly got frostbite waiting at Trocadero to see the Eiffel Tower light up. And my ears nearly fell off in pain wandering around St Germain des Pres on an escargot hunt. The Notre Dame was depressing, mainly because we kept being accosted by people asking for donations and because I secretly am afraid of the Hunchback. And the only thing I remember from visiting the world-famous treasure trove of masterpieces and historical objets d'art, also known as the Louvre, is this picture.
C'est Paris pour vous.
"Oooh these are the shoes i bought!" *tries on* *hmm looks good..* *then gets distracted*
"But what's this? Aaah my 50-pound Karen Millen dress which used to be 250 pounds!!* *grabs dress to try on, and shoes lie forgotten*
Repeat for the next 5 handbags, 2 pairs of shoes, 8-9 boxes of sprungli and laderach chocolates, tea boxes, soaps, accessories.
Flew home from my Europe holiday, and flew right into 2011.
The reality of the matter is, after spending the bulk of last year on sleepless nights, report launches, and killing myself over my job, I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself in 2011. All I know is I do NOT want a repeat of 2010, which explains why I told my boss yesterday I want another day's leave today to spend it curling up with vongole, blogging and distracting my friends who all went back to work today. I had to settle a whole lot of personal admin stuff like paying bills, doing laundry etc, but it's extremely boring to talk about one's laundry.
But shall I tell you about Paris? Yes, I shall. It started on a pretty sad foot (literally!) as I got hit with a bout of rheumatism on my legs. Yeah, shut up. Rheumy Achilles tendons are for 70 year olds apparently, but I've had them off and on since I was 10. It hits every time I sleep without covering my ankles in a blanket, and stupid me slept that way in the middle of a London winter.
Asking to die, seriously.
So we were waiting at the Gare du Nord metro for the train to go to our hotel when an old French dude taps me on the shoulder and starts sputtering away in French, pointing at my limping leg. I started stammering... "aahhh.. Je ne... parle pas..." when he said the word "Massage". So i decided it would be much easier to nod and say "oui, oui" than attempt to carry on a conversation with the ancient old dude who probably lived through the French revolution.
The rest of Paris, minus the bad leg, was breathtaking. Especially the *only* RM3k large Epi leather Noir LV Speedy I managed to bag! Those sort of price tag is unheard of! Oh but yes, the view from the Sacre Coeur was similarly mindblowing, too. This picture does not do it justice.
It was just very cold. Nearly got frostbite waiting at Trocadero to see the Eiffel Tower light up. And my ears nearly fell off in pain wandering around St Germain des Pres on an escargot hunt. The Notre Dame was depressing, mainly because we kept being accosted by people asking for donations and because I secretly am afraid of the Hunchback. And the only thing I remember from visiting the world-famous treasure trove of masterpieces and historical objets d'art, also known as the Louvre, is this picture.
C'est Paris pour vous.
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