My place for thoughts and stories.

Diary of a comms girl

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‘I feel like a ghost in this place – it’s weird.’

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Coffee is an important part of a comms girl’s work.

I’ve been writing a short story, that I thought you might be interested in. Meet Zara, she’s a young professional, who’s full of energy and enthusiasm, loves people, and works in communications. We meet her as she’s having a tough time at work. I wonder if you can relate to feeling unheard, pushed aside, or a ghost at work? This story is fiction, but of course it’s influenced by real life stories and experiences. 

Let me know your thoughts, and experiences. If you want to hear more about Zara, do let me know that too. I’m reachable here, or on Twitter @leemac85. 

Much love xx

Day 22

‘Why are we so behind? Klout was at least 4 years ago.’ I couldn’t understand why our focus was on numbers, when it should be on creating good quality content.

The team are so lovely here, but I am frustrated that for a comms team communication doesn’t seem to be so good. Irrespective of openness from most employees, it’s taxing when certain members seem to be guarded or defensive when I try to join in, or give my opinion. I feel like a ghost in this place – it’s weird. There were days where I would come in, sit at my desk, and not one sole would speak to me the whole day. After going through the alphabet of reasons why they might not like me. I’m not ashamed to say my insecurities roared at that point. I began to wonder if maybe they’re threatened by me? Maybe they think I’m I’m some hot shot chick that thinks she’s something. I’d met so many of them in this industry before, and it really wasn’t me. I thought if I tried a little harder to be friendly, and let them get to know me, it would be ok. Two days later, nope. Besides a conversation with my manager and the crazy looking account manager with blonde curly hair and a pair of razzle dazzle glasses, I was dumbfounded. How did I get this job in the first place? I could feel my blood pressure rising as drops of sweat started to build up and pour off my forehead.

I wanted to yell out, and scream, ‘What the hell is going on here?’ I opened my mouth to do just that, but nothing came out. I took a deep breathe, and thought to myself, I am really trying here. I’ve been round every desk trying to ask as many questions, and extend a hand of help, but they look at me like they’re confused why a stranger would be within a meter of their habitat. I wanted to work and win as a team, so whilst baking muffins, in the hope of bribing them to like me, I remembered something my english teacher once told me. ‘Show before tell, Zara. It always works best.’ Suddenly, I heard a light bulb ding  in my head. Do something. You have to do something Zara. As my hands were needing the cake mixture I stopped to think of what could I do.

Ah ha!  I know. I’ll create a presentation of ideas, and in the next big board meeting I’ll kindly slip in some ways I think they can improve the service. I’m sure they’ll be impressed, and then people will take note that I’m a real person, and not a ghost. Moving the cake mix into the cake moulds, I quickly pop them in the oven, clean my hands, and run to the computer to begin to jot down my plethora of ideas.