take one woman with low self esteem, but quite good hair
add one moronic illness
stir in some medication which causes hair to fall out
mix it all up and this is what you get...

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Girly swot 

"Did J tell you what N said about you?" my Manager asked me, quite out of the blue and rather enigmatically, as is his "style".

"Um... no..." I furrowed, slightly concerned. "Wh-what did he say?"

He gave a wry smile.

"I'll forward you the email," and with that, he scuttled back to his "pod".

When his email appeared in my inbox, the subject line was simply "Anx". My hand was trembling slightly and I could feel a prickly heat rising to my cheeks as I moused over the bold lettering, gearing up for the double-click.

I'd had a meeting with N (a senior manager in the user community) the day before, to discuss requirements for a system I'm designing singlehandedly. With only a sketchy, verbal brief from J (my immediate superior), lots of delving around an unknown system and only a couple of weeks in the job, I'd spent some considerable time preparing prototype screen shots and made sure to put my "listening hat" on for the meeting. As a newbie, I wanted to make sure I got it right.

After a productive discussion with N and his colleague, I'd come away from the meeting with a clear idea of how to proceed, and translated this into a detailed requirements spec.

Eager to please - sometimes pathetically so - I was especially curious to find out what N had thought.

I took a deep breath, and double-clicked it open.
From: Manager
To: Anx
Subject: Anx

Well done!

From: J
To: Manager
Subject: Anx

For your info, I spoke to N this morning who made comments like "Where did you get Anx from?" "I'm well impressed" "I think you've taken on a good one there".

So it looks like she's making a good start!


Whilst recognising my eternal, internal desire for a life less corporate, it is nice to know that I can still do my day job, and do it well.

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