Oh Man! I Feel Like A Pissed Woman
Today was a fucking lame day. The in-charge has managed to screw up the interview timings despite my emails with IMPORTANCE stamped all over and a phone call lasting half an hour last night going through the PR motions together.
As a result, when my colleague went to pick the 3 interviewees, there was fucking no one. Yes, no one to fuck. So, screwed.
In the end, we had only one original interviewee when there’s supposed to be three, with the in-charge standing in.
And of course, they were late for the LIVE interviews. 30 mins.
Obviously, the stations would be damn unhappy and pissed. I would, if I were they. Here we have the hottest stations doing PR for us, and we are late, late, late. And we do not have the confirmed personalities on-air.
(Plus the in-charge has no sense of humour and the excellent bantering the programme is famous for ain’t sustainable due to his ailing chemistry with the good hosts. *faints* At least, I dare say, the hosts did a better job of plugging my show by conversing between themselves. But that’s not the main story, so moving on)
Who will they see as the inefficient party?
Me, very obviously. Even though I’m entirely blameless in this very horrid and unfortunate circumstance.
I’m damn fucked. My reputation is ruined. Just how bad – well the programme director called the studio right after we ended the interview to get the host to pass the in house studio phone to me. Oh fuck. A couple more things, he did add. And I’m like WTF.
It’s not my fault at all, all these things. But I’m who they see, and when things aren’t heading the ideal direction, I guess they hold me responsible, which is very unfair. Because I checked and confirmed all that I did was what should be.
Still, it’s obvious he’s very upset (angry) and ended with “don’t say sorry to me, I’m carrying on with my work now, please leave my office (yes, it’s always better to speak in person).” I left his room, feeling really lousy and irritated and frustrated.
What tops my list of concerns now is whether this experience would negate me if I’m really put in this unit. I won’t want any fucking shit to fucking precede me that really has fucking nothing to do with me but is just fucking me up.
To compound my woes, of all days, I forgot my mobile. And this was one day I really cannot go without it. Went home to retrieve. On my way home in a cab, I felt I would explode without talking, so told cabbie I would borrow his mobile and pay and reflected the happenings to senior. But senior couldn’t ease my worries – that I would be burdened unfavourably and unjustly – and couldn’t offer any solution.
So eventually boss (I have a perceptive boss who understands. Straightaway she went, then you how, you are supposed to be there right.) stepped in to soothe ruffled feathers. Things are supposed to be okay now, so she says.
But. Urgh. Argh. Fuck. I really quite sore over this.
In other news, boss said to type an email and signed off as PR Manager.
I need to sleep now. I have to working late and still bringing work home to do. Been passing out first, then wake up at 4plus am to write releases and event scripts.
Tomorrow – grand opening. Next week – more very hectic and important meetings with a new event – Hi-5. Have to do some research before, probably over weekend, in between the shows.
When will this ever end?
PS: oh the sheer horror of holding a PR event/conference and fearing a no show for all media! My heart! My heart! I want to be a reporter – now that I understand reporters are mobbed by people falling over themselves to be good to them. I like to believe that journalism has a heart and integrity. If it’s newsworthy, they will go to the trouble. Sweetening the deal is well, very sweet but I will be sincere about it. Fuck. I tired. Shall zzz now.
As a result, when my colleague went to pick the 3 interviewees, there was fucking no one. Yes, no one to fuck. So, screwed.
In the end, we had only one original interviewee when there’s supposed to be three, with the in-charge standing in.
And of course, they were late for the LIVE interviews. 30 mins.
Obviously, the stations would be damn unhappy and pissed. I would, if I were they. Here we have the hottest stations doing PR for us, and we are late, late, late. And we do not have the confirmed personalities on-air.
(Plus the in-charge has no sense of humour and the excellent bantering the programme is famous for ain’t sustainable due to his ailing chemistry with the good hosts. *faints* At least, I dare say, the hosts did a better job of plugging my show by conversing between themselves. But that’s not the main story, so moving on)
Who will they see as the inefficient party?
Me, very obviously. Even though I’m entirely blameless in this very horrid and unfortunate circumstance.
I’m damn fucked. My reputation is ruined. Just how bad – well the programme director called the studio right after we ended the interview to get the host to pass the in house studio phone to me. Oh fuck. A couple more things, he did add. And I’m like WTF.
It’s not my fault at all, all these things. But I’m who they see, and when things aren’t heading the ideal direction, I guess they hold me responsible, which is very unfair. Because I checked and confirmed all that I did was what should be.
Still, it’s obvious he’s very upset (angry) and ended with “don’t say sorry to me, I’m carrying on with my work now, please leave my office (yes, it’s always better to speak in person).” I left his room, feeling really lousy and irritated and frustrated.
What tops my list of concerns now is whether this experience would negate me if I’m really put in this unit. I won’t want any fucking shit to fucking precede me that really has fucking nothing to do with me but is just fucking me up.
To compound my woes, of all days, I forgot my mobile. And this was one day I really cannot go without it. Went home to retrieve. On my way home in a cab, I felt I would explode without talking, so told cabbie I would borrow his mobile and pay and reflected the happenings to senior. But senior couldn’t ease my worries – that I would be burdened unfavourably and unjustly – and couldn’t offer any solution.
So eventually boss (I have a perceptive boss who understands. Straightaway she went, then you how, you are supposed to be there right.) stepped in to soothe ruffled feathers. Things are supposed to be okay now, so she says.
But. Urgh. Argh. Fuck. I really quite sore over this.
In other news, boss said to type an email and signed off as PR Manager.
I need to sleep now. I have to working late and still bringing work home to do. Been passing out first, then wake up at 4plus am to write releases and event scripts.
Tomorrow – grand opening. Next week – more very hectic and important meetings with a new event – Hi-5. Have to do some research before, probably over weekend, in between the shows.
When will this ever end?
PS: oh the sheer horror of holding a PR event/conference and fearing a no show for all media! My heart! My heart! I want to be a reporter – now that I understand reporters are mobbed by people falling over themselves to be good to them. I like to believe that journalism has a heart and integrity. If it’s newsworthy, they will go to the trouble. Sweetening the deal is well, very sweet but I will be sincere about it. Fuck. I tired. Shall zzz now.
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