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Oh God, we always have this. At least twice a week he threatens to fire me because of my incompetence. During weeks where I feel okay about myself, I can just float by this and allow it to wash over me like water off a duck’s back, but when I’m already feeling a little bit shitty, I become very sensitive and it has me wanting to cry. I mean, this man reminds me all the time that my life is virtually in his hands. If not for him, then I don’t know where I would be now. I would be homeless probably, living on the streets, eating out of bins.
I can’t be blamed for a lot of this, but if I were a better employee then he wouldn’t even be able to bring me in to the mix, would he? I can’t help but feel that way, like I am responsible in some way for the failures of this company. The personal assistant role is the glue that holds the whole company together, so perhaps I am in the wrong.
“Sorry, Mr. Jones.” I hang my head low, trying to disguise the stray tear that so desperately wants to break free. “Sorry that all of this is happening. If there was anything that I could do to make it right again…”
“There’s nothing,” he snaps, shutting me down instantly. “Nothing that someone like you could do. As usual, it’s up to the organ grinder to fix the fuck ups of the monkeys… and I have more monkeys working here than most.”
This is why I never get home before dark, because I am always the one put in this position. Listening to the end of the day yelling and having the weight of the world shoved on top of me. It’s horrible.
It wasn’t always like this. Mr. Jones has always been an unpleasant man and his company has always had to face issues, but back then the yelling was at everyone. I didn’t even notice that it had slowly become only me over time until Delia started working here and pointed it out to me. Now, it’s all that I can think of. It has to be me, doesn’t it? I have to be contributing to what Mr. Jones perceives as the issue, otherwise it would still be the same.
We could laugh about it then, cheer each other up equally, but now it isn’t a joke. Now, it’s hell.
“I need all of my meetings moved around tomorrow, Esme, and I need you to sort that out right now…”
“But, boss, most people will have gone home for the day…” I try, not that it gets me anywhere.
“The PA’s are there to be on call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week…” I wonder if all bosses believe this. If so, then it really should be there in the job description to warn people. I can’t be the only person who didn’t realize that when I took on the role. “They will be available. I need my morning free to sort out this fuck, but I also don’t want to lose out on any of my meetings because they could lead to new business, and God knows we need that. So, I need you to get that ass of yours back to your desk and make some calls. Don’t just stand there…”
“I’m only standing here because I don’t know if that’s going to be possible.” I feel like an idiot. Why does he have to make me feel like such an idiot? “You have meetings all morning and afternoon tomorrow.”
“See, this is the sort of shit that I am talking about! This exactly.” He waves his hands in my direction very dismissively. “You can’t just make something happen for me, can you? Like a decent personal assistant would do. You have to make it in to a self-centered drama. I have enough going on, right now. I don’t need you to set about making my life more difficult. It’s just fucking bull shit, that’s what it is. I don’t need it.” His face is flaming red with sheer temper. I step backwards, trying to escape his glare. “Just go and make some calls, will you?”
“Y… yes,” I stagger backwards, nearly falling. “I will go and make the calls right now, I will… I’ll change the meeting times and lengths to… to fit things in. I will make sure everything is… is easy for you.”
I run out of the room, tears flooding down my face, my heart pounds, sickness floods through my body. I need to find a way to make Mr. Jones’ life easier, he’s right about that. I do suck at doing that. I should have just found a solution. Other personal assistants would. They would know exactly what to do. I need to know what to do as well. I need to get better at making this company run smoother so that he can’t blame me anymore…
