Now That You Mention It…

Oh, we do not enjoy spinning our wheels for any client, even if the meter is running on their project. This particular client handed the job off to yours truly not long ago. In a very brief meeting, it was expressed that Frumpie would do as she’s done before.

Oh, if only before resembled after, for this particular job, much like the last one in name only, is nothing like it in how Frump here has received the information for it. We are expected to know that File #18 contains a few paragraphs that are expected to go into File #3 right there on Page 5. Oh, and those few notes Frumpie was handed in that very fast first meeting are not the ones Frumpie should follow. No, dearies. Those notes are completely forgotten because this particular client remembers nothing of that meeting. (Since it was so very brief, we can fully understand, but we do not sympathize nor care.) For the latest set of instructions, much more detailed now, contain references to “mistakes” Frump made at the initial instruction of the client. Yet the client remembers none of that, for it would frame said client as being scattered. We can’t have that, can we?

Frumpie had asked for specifics midway through said project and was given them in a slightly longer meeting recently, only with a “tsk tsk to you” tone as the client tried desperately to impose their own lack of organization upon said Frump. In fact, most of the work Frumpie has spent weeks performing is now being amended because of the missing instructions in the first place.

Frump it all, because this gal’s meter is still ticking and she’s none too sorry that it will cost the unorganized. Perhaps a valuable lesson to them. Then again, we rather doubt it.

The Word Teamwork Does Not Contain the Word ‘Dictator’

Lovely child that she is, one of my colleagues is beginning to wear on this Frump’s nerves. We work as a team on an ongoing basis. I’d call her my superior, but that would indicate she possesses skills that are ones I should be emulating. While she has her moments of brilliance, what she does not have is tact or, for that matter, her own job down. Increasingly, this adorable young thing is sending me work to be completed, yet the information she’s sending is so spotty and full of holes it would take a miracle to make anything useful from it. That is upsetting, but more upsetting is her recent reaction when Frumpie asked some pointed questions to try to get the job done right.

Instead of providing the information or thanking this here Frump, the little thing chastised. Frumpie, you CANNOT ask these questions so close to the deadline! You MUST ask them immediately upon receiving my notes! Frumpie bit back a dozen retorts, silently wished bees to invade her socks, and thanked her for her input. But that isn’t all Frumpie did; Frumpie contacted her superior and asked ever-so-politely how one goes about getting more information so one can complete said projects successfully, expressing the wish to work more closely with the dear soul, but concerned that consistently missing information is hampering the delivery of such stellar project outcomes.

Dear, foolish child. If you were to complete your part of the job correctly, we wouldn’t be in this pickle. Both of us wouldn’t be repeating our efforts for projects that are easy to complete if you take the time in the first place to gather the data and stop expecting me to perform miracles from sound bites.

Frump you, dear. You are not the only soul at the company I can work with, and I have just managed the first step in breaking free from your ineptitude. I have also managed to separate my abilities from your lack of planning. I shan’t be going down alongside you, dear. You throw me to the sharks frequently in your snide remarks back to me. Do not expect me to toss you a life preserver.

I’d Be Very Sorry if Your Mistake Were Actually Mine

Once again the client is in full panic mode. Dearies, I cannot count on both hands and feet the number of panicked emails this dear client has put Frumpie in the center of, but let’s just say enough that Frumpie has begun to counter the panic attacks before they actually occur. This latest one was rather odd. The client sent a revision and explained where it needed to go in the document. Mind you, this information is repeated in a few places, so Frumpie did a search of the document and discovered two other places where this particular information was missing. She inserted said copy and informed the client. Things became interesting from there.

Client was confused, which to Frump came as no surprise whatsoever. Client wanted to know what possessed this Frump to put the information in question into more than what she was told to do. (Given the client’s habit of missing things in her own document, Frump had also learned the fine art of foreseeing another issue and correcting it, alerting the client. This case was no different.) Frump copied the section in question and sent it over, showing what was missing and how it was amended. Frump also sent over last year’s document, same section, showing the copy that client herself had supplied; it showed quite clearly that the information Frumpie had added was indeed in the previous version as client had intended. Client’s response was curt, and showed she didn’t take the time to read through any of Frump’s email, let alone her own copy supplied to Frump the previous year. “Just let US handle the edits.” Since this was her second said request, Frump has backed of adding anything at all, even if it is requested.

More interesting is the dear soul’s insistence that she’s waiting for my go-ahead on a completely separate project. How many things are wrong with that thought, I do ask you? I am not her employer, yet I have control over her actions? Also, should I not know about this other project before being expected to tell her when to proceed? I will take responsibility for things I have not done properly, but I will not take your upset when it is achingly clear that your reality stick isn’t quite touching the ground.

Frump you, scattered client. We can be your greatest asset or a distant memory depending on how we’re treated. Guess which was Frump is leaning right now?

If You’re Confused, How Do You Think I Feel?

She is a lovely client. A very sweet soul. And she comes with a very large panic botton attached. Today’s confusion was self-induced. One little section of copy cost her untold years from her life as she panics and, we love this part, blames Frumpie in an off-handed manner. “Just let ME make changes to the copy, all right?”

That’s perfectly splendid! Just stop blaming me when YOU do so, lovey! For this “change” I was supposed to have made was actually not my change at all; rather, it was right there in the copy she supplied me at the start of this project three years ago. She wrote, panicked and confused. What had I done? Why was this changed? I sent her the original version to show her my confusion, but I suspect she’ll think I did that, as well. I have become accustomed to leaving a rather long, detailed paper trail with her to spare myself any undue heat for mistakes not mine. It adds new meaning to the notion of covering one’s backside area.

If she spent as much time LISTENING AND HEARING the response as she did pushing her panic button, she might not need so much Advil in her life.

Perhaps I should buy her one of those annoying-yet-mesmerizing Staples buttons for the holidays? Maybe reprogrammed to say “Breathe! See? That was easy!”