Velouria (velouria) wrote,

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Black Chow for Everyone

Sometimes I read my work email over the weekend because I have no life whatsoever. That was the case this weekend, and I saw that my boss had assigned me a formal bid with a smiley face. Formal bids are complex and lenghty and require wearing something other than lazypants and probably combing your Jewfro on the day that you host the bid and the public shows up to quote.

Formal Bids are reserved for Super Analysts, of which I am not. I am your typical, lowly Analyst. But I had pulled my boss aside before Xmas (having been reading A Christmas Carol on my break and feeling good about my chances) asked him what I could do for them to consider me for Super Analyst. He had smiled and said he knew I was ready, and would speak to the big bosses about it. Well, at least he's in my corner, I thought, but the big bosses had the ultimate say. The extent of my interaction with them involved waiting for one of them outside the toilet in the lobby. They would nod and say hello as the bathroom door slammed in my face. I probably hadn't combed my hair at the time, either, can't remember.

So this could mean one of 2 things: they are testing me for Super Analyst, OR they are merely dumping more work on me 'cause I'm there and I'll do it, because what other choice do I have. Recently, a man who led police on a high-speed drunken chase through his gated community in a State-issued car was appointed Secretary of the Department I work for. As a fellow ex-drunk (assuming he's an ex, now) this bodes well for me. I've only ever been in a State care once. It was a Prius and I was non-drunkenly taking it to be serviced as a favor to the pregnant girl who was too fat to get in it anymore.

So we'll find out tomorrow, I guess. Or after the six-months it takes to complete a formal bid.
Tags: super analyst
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