Quickly, I just have to share this awesome thing that just happened in the office.
First, I forgot to tell you how amazing Newby is. She has a Master’s in Anatomy, and she’s got a place studying for a PhD in Neurobiology at Cambridge in the fall. She’s just temping as a way to earn a bit of money and take a mental break before starting her PhD.
Giles rings her today, spouts some business speak at her, and then asks her if she knows how to use Word, because she might need to draft some ‘important letters to some very special people’ and Giles wants to make sure ‘that even on paper they get the star treatment.’ Then he adds, ‘Maybe you should ask Patch to help until you understand the level of service and professionalism we expect.’
To this she says, ‘I’m happy to ask Patch for tips. I’m currently working with [major academic publisher] on a collection of essays which discusses advancement of neurological research over the ages. And adapted version of my Master’s thesis is a chapter, and my future PhD Supervisor is the editor I’m working with. But, as you said, you may have a different idea of professionalism.’
Then she thanked him for calling and hung up.
She turned to me and said, ‘There’s such freedom in not caring about your job,’ then she winked.
Patched turned his chair around, and said, ‘You remind me of the boss. Last night she told me I wasn’t allowed to watch…’
Newby cut him off. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not equipped to provide couples therapy. I’d suggest that if it is as bad as you say, and she truly does talk down to you, you should seek counselling. It isn’t healthy, appropriate, or helpful to tell me about your marital issues.’
Then she swivelled her chair around and went back to work.
Nope, not so deer-in-headlights-ish at all.