Had a drink with my boss last night.
My role at work is changing a little bit. Actually, it’s not my role as such that’s changing, it’s my title. I’m the Communications Manager see, and it’s obvious to more people than just me (read everyone) that I’m no Communications Manager – I could be, but currently I’m really just not managing the communications.
I am, however, handy in several other aspects, most notably our presence, or doing something about the lack thereof, online. So they’re thinking of calling me the New Media Manager. I suggested it, and I quite like the sound of that.
Not only am I engaged in the various websites the property requires (and there are various), but I also put together the material for the in-house TV channel, the CD-ROM and now a concierge desk display thingum.
Does this make me a manager? Most certainly not, because I still don’t manage anything beyond my own work. There is this prospect on the horison though that I will be allowed to hire a new recruit to help me with all this stuff and before you know it I will have my own little New Media Department, which will be inside the Communications Department, which is already inside the Sales & Marketing department.
At least then I’ll be managing something and earn my title at least.
Anyway, so drinks last night was basically around these aspects and whether I’m happy taking on that role or not. I’m a computer geek, so obviously I am. We were at this wanna-be-trendy place Mosiac, just across the road from Upperstar (where the exact same drinks are half the price, sigh – but for appearances) I was drinking beer – come on, it was 22:30, and she was sipping tea. It wasn’t exactly a business meeting. So I hadn’t eaten anything, except a bowl of yummy-but-grossly-insufficient-in-quantity noodles at a friends house, but that was way early. So the 3 bottles of Becks got me nicely tickled.
Not one to have fun on my own (not that kind anyway) I persuaded her to follow me to Cocoon for a real drink. She obliged. We sat by the bar and opened our tab with Tequila shooters. Small shot glasses came half full and in hind-sight, I’m actually glad for this token of cheapness on their side. The lady then had Pimms and Coke and I had Bacardi and Sprite. They made up for their cheapness in the half-Tequila shooter with an exceptionally strong drink – maybe the glasses were just small.
We happened to bump into Julia who came over and said hi. She was with the group of girls who were celebrating Salome’s, what, 28th birthday? We exchanged our greetings and she went off to join her group again. I later on went over and kissed the birthday girl and said hi to the others before rejoining the Boss.
We had a second round of small half-full shooters (establishment trademark?) before a friend of my Boss came over and did what appeared to be chatting her up. Nevertheless, a generous bloke he was as he soon bought a round of shooters for both the boss and myself.
This morning I woke up with a cactus, or Algarve Plant if you want to be pedantic, growing on the inside of my skull. Tequila, I have cleverly deduced, is not my friend.
Of course, there are all sorts of emotional storms brewing my emotional self, but I got bored of going on and on about my feelings so I thought today I’d give it a break. Next week is going to be tough for reasons I’ll elaborate on later.
But now I’m going to go over and borrow Julia’s camera so Phyllis and I can take our snaps for our entry into the Amazing Race Asia. Oh yeah, I’ll write about that later too.