Showing posts with label my boss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my boss. Show all posts

Monday, 28 May 2012

On My Nerves

My boss is starting to piss me off.

I told her that my knees were bad (I'm having surgery on one of them), and I'd like down-time between lessons (instead of standing around outside of classes for ten minutes, doing nothing).  She said it was okay - and then fully booked me for a week, so that I have no downtime between lessons and must walk up and down stairs every period.  No two lessons are on the same floor.  Nice.

I told her that I'd like to help teach the native English speaking kid in the school (the only foreign student) with the help of the assistant teachers, who have specific periods they work with him.  She said okay, then proceeded to book me for every single one of his lessons, so I was away for each of them.

The whole school has a meeting right now, and I'm scheduled to leave at 4 pm (ten minutes from now).  She told me to stay here until she returned; lest I abandon my post ten minutes early.

Realising that she might not be here when 4 O'clock rolls around, she asked the school nurse (who is busy bodying) to keep an eye on me until 4.  Thinking I don't understand any Japanese, she said I was lazy and needed to be checked upon.  Nice.  She also drew the nurse nearer and whispered something that I couldn't make out.  A really classy one, she ain't.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

It's Not a Font, It's the Shape of the Letters

So I just heard a fantastic quote from my Korean boss.

After four hours of semi-relaxed (see: we're all slacking, the designer isn't) design work, a final version (post-beta) of the school open-class invitation was created.

Some problems arose, and the integral portion (the font) was questioned, ultimately it was decided the font must change.

This caused suicidal thoughts within the creator (not me, before you ask).

Then, my boss chips in.  'You don't need to change the font, just change the erm...'  A minute passes, everyone waits with bated breath.  The anticipated answer is one of saving an hours further work.  Finally, a spark emerges from some dank recess of the mind.

'It's not the font, it's the shape of the letters.'

I nearly wet myself.

And this was my day.