Dear New Administrative Assisstant:

In two words: You crazy.

I realize that I inherited you from the person who used to run this department, so it’s not like we exactly picked each other. I also realize that I am not used to having my own admin so all this attention is not something I am altogether comfortable with. I know you are trying to be helpful, but you are making. me. nuts.

I am not a doctor. Therefore, people do not need to make appointments to see me. Nor do they need to go through you to get to me. In fact, most of the time, I can hear them at your desk talking. Then I watch you get up, take 3 steps into my office and announce their presence, and they can clearly hear you. The whole thing is ridiculous. Just let them walk by and stick their head in for goodness sakes!

Your schizo way of addressing me is baffling. One minute you are saying “You so funny girlfriend” and holding out your fist for a pound. The next minute you are speaking like Martha Stewart and calling me Ms. Starfish. Who are you really? Oh, and I think you understood when I corrected you the other day…but under no circumstances are you to ever call me Starry. You should never shorten anyone’s name and put a y on the end unless you are given express written permission to do so.

Charades is not effective. If I am on the phone, please write me a short note and put it in front of me. Dancing and moving your lips is distracting. It took me forever to figure out that you pointing to your ring finger meant that my husband had called.

If you have something to say, spit it out. Using big words are ineffectual if you don’t use them correctly in context. If after you speak, there is prounounced silence and I am blinking at you with my eyebrows scrunched together, it means I don’t have a flipping clue what you are talking about. Have I ever once said “yes” when you say “You see what I’m saying?”.

There is no conspiracy brewing to get my job. Trust me when I tell you that my direct reports have zero chance of getting me fired and taking over. If that were the case, one of them would have been promoted into my position in the first place. So, while I appreciate you tiptoeing into my office and whispering your little tidbits of information about who was seen having a closed door meeting with who, more often than not, I already knew, and it wasn’t for the reasons you think. And if I didn’t, chances are I don’t give a crap. Save the drama for your momma. I’m too busy.

The hugging. Just…..don’t.

If this doesn't work out between us, I can have you go work for my brother. He can't understand why I don't enjoy having someone at my beck and call all day. I warn you though, he told me that he would have you do things like buying a bag of pretzels and then remove the salt on exactly two thirds of them. And then organize his paper clips so they all face the same way. Might still be better than working for me.