Memorializing minionhood

As an executive assistant, a crucial facet of the daily duties is to act as a deliverer. Deliver him from a cancelled flight before he gets stranded in the likes of Baton Rouge and cannot make evening cocktails with another head honcho back in La La Land. Deliver to him lunch: tuna salad on toasted rye - don't forget the dijon mustard, and iced Evian. Deliver him from incipient business relationship calamities by deterring him from heedlessly divulging his ill-willed feelings to a contact via email lest they use the typed correspondence against him in futurity. Deliver him to a bougie automobile dealership adjacent to a prolific beach community so he can pick up his snazzy ride from meticulous matintenanace (whilst I clutch my steering wheel in fervent prayer that I do not expose him to my predisposed maniacal driving antics for which I am reluctantly infamous). Deliver him from his wife's not-to-be-reckoned-with fury by chucking him out of the office in time for him to catch his daughter's ballet recital. Deliver to him the swag (Vino galore! Prime tickets to awards shows! Weekend golfing getaways!) he receives per diem merely for possessing such clout in the industry.

So 'twas a deviation from the norm when Pete the delivery guy swung by bearing a parcel, and rather than approaching me per usual to sign for it so that I can subsequently deliver it to either Boss 1 or 2, he made a beeline for Boss 1's office instead. "Oh!" I heard Boss 1 remark. "Is that for me?"
A few seconds of tissue paper shuffling later, Boss 1 emerges from his office, stops by my cubicle, and, brandishing the gift bag, says sheepishly, "This is actually for you. Congratulations."Apparently, it slipped Boss 1's noggin that today is the annual Executive Assistants Day. But it's quite all right. After all, he tends to forget a plethora of things. Which is all exceedingly endearing, really. And, fortuitously, each assistant was bestowed a portly parcel as a token of appreciation on behalf of HR. It isn't wine, exclusive Tinseltownian invites, or weekend golfing intermissions (not that I'd fancy 48 hours to swing haphazardly at balls with a metal club anyhow), but 'twas quite benevolent of them to memorialize minionhood.

All of which I felt to a deeper degree upon receiving an e-mail this week from a former internship boss. I'd done a handful of internships in the entertainment industry during the college phase of life, but no internship overseer induces in me an involuntary shudder whence my musings happen to flit on them than when they do with her, the one I deem Tinseltown's Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) from "The Devil Wears Prada." 'Twas at this internship where I promptly learned how to be a legit assistant to an unrelenting terror of an executive, except 'twas all done for free at the expense of my recurrently teary emotional turmoil, concurrent courseload, and other commitments. I wholeheartedly related to Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), except I acquired neither swoon-worthy frocks nor a Parisian jaunt. But that is a cinematic story, and this is life. Now that I reminisce upon it, I truly see how God worked it all together for good. 'Twas a much-needed lesson in humility, patience, and servanthood. Furthermore, I am so very thankful for the bosses I'm blessed with now (even if they're a tad goofy at times), and that I am at that entertainment establishment no longer.

But my aforementioned Miranda Priestly-esque boss isn't either. The reason for her e-mail this week was to disclose to all of her contacts that she's ascended a rung on Hollywood's corporate ladder in procuring a new and improved gig as a senior level executive. At the studio where I currently work.

I had gawked at the e-mail in utter disbelief. I knew not whether to burst into laughter or tears (I suppose I'll find out if ever I bump into her on the lot). God is SO hilarious.

Golly molly, I am so thankful entertainment assistantship is but one season of my life, Lord-willing, and that my identity is grounded in Christ, not an occupation (or anythang else of the world, for that matter). God has good and perfect plans, and though 'tis been one kookily marvelous adventure thus far, I am all ajitter with excitement at what is forthcoming.

Lo, I am covering for another assistant's bossman, and he just gave me a jingle 'cause attaching a document to an email is too enigmatic of a task. I must jet to impart my know-how.

Happy Executive Assistants Day!!!