Confidential Work

I just finished interviewing for a new job as the personal/executive assistant to a person who owns a business. I wish I could say more, but if I get the job, I will be required to sign a confidentiality agreement, thereby limiting my ability to mine for material my crazy work environs. I dare not even say whether this person is a man or woman, nor what industry this potential job is in, as any connection whatsoever between myself and this person in writing will constitute, I’m sure, a violation of the impending confidentiality agreement. Indeed, this will be the one and only written record of said job if, in fact, I get the gig. If such job becomes mine, I will be forced to write such enticing missives as:

Today I went to a place with four walls and a ceiling where I worked for approximately the same amount of time as many of my fellow Americans tend to work on any given day of the week. On this day I performed many tasks set before me by my boss that were challenging yet fun, demanding yet doable. Over the course of an average number of hours I made out-bound and fielded in-bound phone calls about various subjects relating to my work. At a certain point in the day, I retired to an undisclosed location for a meal where my boss regaled me with a story about a trip to another country wherein my boss encountered several wacky characters that took my boss on a wild ride through a famous city in a car of undisclosed make and model. At several points in the story I was thrown into fits of laughter, followed by bitter tears and finally sublime enlightenment about the meaning of our existence. Sadly, none of the details leading to those emotional experiences can be related here. After our midday meal, I returned to our place of business (I neither confirm nor deny that it is either an office, or a residence, or some other form of building) where I continued to do the tasks at hand. By the end of my day, I had accomplished many of the things I set out to finish and accumulated information that would lead me into my next workday. I either drove or walked home, or took some form of public transportation.

You can see how boring that would be to read. I suppose I could amend my style and make it more like a fill in the blank situation. Then at least I could just say what I wanted except for the exact words that were guarded by confidentiality:

Today I went to noun where I was greeted by proper noun. proper noun said that I was doing an adjective job at my work thus far and gifted me with a noun, animal. I verbed and said that the noun, animal was simply too adjective for me to verb. But after a few more adjectives, proper noun was victorious and I accepted the noun, animal, as my own. Once afternoon came along, proper noun had a meeting scheduled with proper noun, heroin addict. Proper noun, heroin addict, was late for their appointment and I was forced to verb until proper noun, heroin addict arrived. Once I got the two of them settled into the noun, I offered our guest a noun, or a noun, and our guest countered that a noun would make a better offering. I verbed under my breath and verbed quickly back to my noun. Once back at my noun, I realized that my new noun, animal, had verbed all over my bosses new noun. I verbed adverbially and then gritted my nouns as I verbed up the noun. just another noun at the adjective noun!

Hopefully I’ll get the job. But if I don’t, at least I can look forward to keeping my vocabulary.