I’ve been fired from our departmental newsletter.
Those of you with long memories might remember I was fired once before, but I managed to weasel my way back to editorial duties via scheduling notes, which became “schedutorials”. Yes, it was just the same old schtick I’ve been doing for years: talking about my week.
Well, no longer. Taken aside by my boss on Wednesday, it was all bad news. “Do you realise some people avoid talking to you because they’re afraid you’ll talk about them in the next editorial?” Really? Well, they can always write a letter to the editor. “What, and then get made fun of again?!” “You’ve been doing this for years, time for new voices, let someone else have a turn…” As if I haven’t been trying to get other people to write something for years! Anyway, it was brutal, and so I wrote my last editorial on Friday.
I was planning a carefully considered, gracious and poignant farewell, but unfortunately I got a message at 8 that morning, asking why I hadn’t turned up to work. I’d completely forgotten a list I was supposed to be covering in a private hospital on Friday. So, the editorial was written in the few minutes I was able to snatch during odd moments of down time during the day. Still, it wasn’t a bad job and I was quite satisfied when I sent it in. Unfortunately, my travails weren’t over.
Shortly after 5, a message appeared on the editorial group chat, had anyone sent out the newsletter? This is not normally my job, so I wasn’t too concerned until the deafening silence showed that it seemed to be no one’s job that day. I couldn’t have my final newsletter be a no show after all the effort I’d (planned to) put into the editorial, so I quickly dragged out my laptop and set to work. An hour later, I wasn’t too unhappy with the job I’d done, and I sent it out.
The following morning I was drinking my first cup of coffee when I noticed an “email undelivered” notice in my inbox. I wasn’t too concerned at first, figuring that perhaps one or two people hadn’t received it. Not so, unfortunately. It hadn’t gone to anyone, for no good reason that I could fathom. This was at once terrible and embarrassing, but also oddly serendipitous, as there were a couple of memes in there about Princess Catherine’s disappearance from public view, that were looking in decidedly poor taste after the news of her cancer diagnosis was revealed that morning.
What a difference a day makes! No longer acceptable.
I dug out the trusty laptop, replaced the dodgy memes with a far side cartoon and an amusing photo of someone being licked by a cow, and sent it out again. Phew!
Yes, that’s better! Inoffensive.