Insights into a Bimbo's Mind

Unwilling Party

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

An Unwilling Party’s Extreme Bitch Blog. Only meant for the non-judgemental.

A few months ago, I was very unwillingly dragged into the Organizing Committee of the Company Annual Dinner... I’ve first tried to reject the ‘honor’ of being in the organizing committee by feigning travel around the time of the Annual dinner. When time came nearer to the dinner and my travel didn’t seem to be happening, I was then utmost unfortunately roped in again with no excuses. You see, sometimes, these things are not an option. The chairman of the committee was my manager and it is almost a social and career obligation to participate in any activities my manager commits herself into.

So along with the status of being in the honorary committee of the annual dinner, there came the tasks of cutting 1400 mailing labels with a pair of scissors, sticking them onto 1400 envelopes, slotting 1400 invitation cards into envelopes, sorting them into alphabetical order, delivering them to our privileged colleagues who didn’t need to be in the committee, sorting out the ones who are coming and the ones who are not, the vegetarians, the spouses, the guests..etc..I think you get the picture. Ofcourse, to make things better, in these scenarios, there’s always the extremely willing committee member, “Ms Itchy Private Parts”, who self proclaims herself the boss, to stand over you to supervise. When the rest of the hard laborers are trying to slot all the cards into the envelopes as soon as possible so that they don’t have to go home after midnight, Ms Private Parts is ofcourse doing QC jobs. She inspects the envelopes one by one to ensure that the cards are slot in the right direction and the flap of the envelope is tucked into the envelope. You know, while the rest of us are praying to God to grow 2 more pairs of hands so that we can finish all the labor work as soon as possible, it might make a difference if there’s an extra pair of helping hands, even if they are FAT and lard laden. (Excuse me for my cruel comments, being fat myself, all my life I’ve always been extra nice and sensitive to the feelings of other plus sized individuals but this time, I make an exception because in my own opinion I strongly feel that there are certain individuals out there who takes advantage of it and therefore does NOT deserve the goodness showered upon them.)

Then comes the night of the dinner. Using skin colored first-aid bands to cover all the blisters from my fingers from cutting too much mailing labels and after using make up to cover the dark eye rings from the late nights of sticking mailing labels and sorting out the vegetarians, spouses, vendors/guests, and those-who-wants-to-bring-a-partner-but-do-not-want-to-pay, comes the ‘Let’s-pretend-to-be-Glamorous-Night’. Lard Laden Itchy Private Parts is ofcourse on a double dose of supervisory mode. Underneath my low cut ivory white dress and under my secretly taped breasts to get that cleavage effect, my blood was boiling.

I don’t know exactly what the thoughts of the others are and honestly, I don’t even know if others in the committee were roped in willingly or extremely unwillingly like myself, but from a very unwilling party’s point of view, I wonder why we’re paid such high salaries and given managerial titles to replicate a factory line to output thousands of invitation cards and then run about the night like a headless chicken with taped up breasts and at the same time, trying to look all glam and fancy.

By now, there must be some whose thoughts are, “Why are you so unwilling to help? It’s just one dinner.” So here’s the history. This is only ONE annual dinner. A couple of months ago, there was the Celebration Dinner when the company achieved a certain status. Then there was the Social Committee department dinner, then there was the Treasure Hunt, then there was the Christmas Dinner, then there was the Farewell Dinner, then there was the Chinese New Year Dinner... When I applied for this job, there weren’t any fine prints that told me I have to be involved in the organizing of EVERY damn social event that happens in the company JUST because I have a hyperactive manager who thinks she can take on the world. And perhaps, participating in the committee of such events might be better if there were no fat lard hanging around making snide comments and pointing fingers at everything we do. Enough already. If you want to avoid finding blogs like this on the web one day telling the whole world what a fat lard your sidekick cum best friend is, and how ‘great’ and ‘wonderful’ life was while working with you, find some truly willing volunteers next time. And DON'T push it.

posted by Miki-C @ 1:36 PM