And that’s a wrap!

We’ve wrapped the board meeting– the office is in shambles (there is literally paper everywhere), we’re mostly dead on our feet and I’m fairly certain the knot in my shoulder has doubled in size over the last 3 days, but damn if it wasn’t a success.  Mid-way through the second day of any board meeting it is all Bree and I can do to keep our shit together.  5AM alarm clocks don’t do either of us right and the combination of stress and anxiety and pressure and 12 hour days and keeping 45 million balls in the air result in straight slap happy conversations.

Stupid shit that happened because we were so damn tired:

-By pure default and dumb luck, I ended up with a room at the very fancy hotel where our board meeting was held Wednesday night.  When I checked out Thursday morning after 4 1/2 hours of sleep the concierge address me by name, which kind of weirded me out.  How the hell did he know my name?!  I walked back to the meeting space and said as much to Bree.  “Ah, you’re wearing a name tag,” she said.

-There was a huge curtain across one of the walls in the ballroom of the hotel.  Bree decided to very slowly peek around the curtain around 6AM yesterday morning to see what was behind it.  What she saw caused her to shriek and jump back with alarm– it was a mirror.  The scary shit was just herself.

-Two new board members who work for super fancy companies showed up an hour late for a meeting on the first day.  It was the first board meeting either had attended, so Bree introduced herself when they came down the stairs.

Bree:  Hi, you must be so-and-so and so-and-so.  I’m Bree.

So-and-so #1:  How did you know who we were?

Bree:  Oh, I’ve been looking at your pictures.

AWKWARD SILENCE.  For the record, we printed about 100 million copies of their bios and photographers.  Bree wasn’t google stalking them.

-American Airlines changed the Boss Man’s flight time, so he had about 2 hours between when the meeting ended and his flight took off.  I went into moderate panic when I discovered the 40 minute departure change*, firmly established it wasn’t my fault and then morphed into problem solving mode.  I called the taxi company, prepped the boss and called his wife to fill her in.  He was getting out of town come hell or high water.

His wife met him at the hotel with their luggage and a change of clothes, he switched from his suit to jeans, I handed off the boarding passes and he handed me his suit to take back to the office.  I was a little confused as to why I was holding my boss’ dry cleaning, but was rolling with it in order to get him out of town.

His suit was precariously hung on the hanger– causing the pants to fall off the second I walked back into the hotel.  Pants that I then tripped on.  When I bent over I pick up the pants, I then dropped the folders I was holding.  I scooped up everything, walked over to the male concierge and said– HELP ME.  It was a special moment for the two of us as he helped me get the suit back on the hanger.  We then high fived for going above and beyond.

The moral of this story– don’t you want Bree and I to plan your parties?  Or at least be our friends?  Have a good weekend y’all.  I’ll be back (hopefully well rested with my shit together) bright and early Monday morning.

*The circle of an executive assistant”s grief– holy shit!  Is this my fault?  No, it isn’t my fault.  Do I have proof this isn’t my fault?  Is the boss going to kill me anyway?  Can I fix it?  GO!

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