Administrative Professionals Day

Today, April 26th, is Administrative Professionals Day, and apparently it comes around as a way for In-Desperate-Need-Of-Administration Professionals everywhere to thank the person who keeps their papers spinning.

That’s me. I keep millions of papers in several colors and sizes spinning like tops. My home office alone resembles the NASA Mission Control Center.

But I question this method of acknowledgement.

Once upon a time, all the secretaries got together and decided that, darn it all, they were under appreciated and underpaid, overlooked and overbooked, and needed something else on their jam-packed calendars to fix it.

“Make a note of it,” they said.

Tappity tap, tap…I’m sure men know how to type too, yes?

And they did.

They made up Mother’s Day, Women’s Day, and National Dadgum That’s a Good Day, Day (March 1st). There’s Be Heard Day, Receptionist’s Day, Women’s Checkup Day, Lost Sock Memorial Day, and No Dirty Dishes Day.

This is just a drop in the waterfall of are-you-kidding-me national days.

Only a handful of these “Days” stick to my calendar, and today’s is just vague enough to make me wonder several things:

  1. What qualifies someone as an Administrative Professional?
  2. Who are the non-Administrative Professionals that are supposed to wish you well?
  3. What are their motives for doing so?
  4. Is the well-wishing preceded with “Happy”, “Merry”, or “I need this in today’s mail”?

My research (qualification #1) led me to the greeting card aisle of Target. If there’s one thing Target knows is their shoppers, and sure enough, they were prepared for our imminent need.

Target for the win.

Behold the end cap.

It’s clear that 10 out of 18 Admin Professionals are female (qualification #2). One out of 18 are multilingual. One is an animal-lover. Or thinks everyone else in the office are animals. Four out of 18 have no idea whether they qualify as Admin, and so will take what they can get.

Admin Professionals drink coffee and tea (qualification #3). They make a difference. Their job involves phones, books, clocks, and typing. They require a written “Thank You” once a year for their efforts. They don’t mind feeling patronized instead of professional.

And they can’t mind if you screw up the exact date, because Target has nicely advertised it as a whole week which gives others several opportunities to get it right because we all know who normally is in charge of getting cards out on time.

Who made this??

This one slays me. I am so offended by this bathroom door symbol. If this is the card you reached for when you thought of me, I quit. All 1% of you had better run and hide. These stupid stereotypes exist because you bought into it.

I want just one card that shows a manly man with a dark tie and a beard, sitting at a desk typing away with a real slogan hanging on the wall…Going Commando to Cover Your Butt.

Office Ninja. I could Take you all Down with a Click of my Mouse…

Payroll…Just Do It

Letting Concerned Citizens Scream into my Ear Because I like Money

Boss’s Day is coming up.

What goes around, comes around, and saying “Thank you” is always a good idea.

Flowers and cards and snacks are nice, and the mailroom guy would like some too, by the way. I think he stands with me on the obvious: a Professional is anyone who brings their job up the notch that turns it into a career.

If you’re a street sweeper, be the best darn street sweeper anyone has ever seen.

Here’s to the broom pushers and the paper pushers alike, you have my solid respect every day of the year.

All That Glitters

Little things make me wicked happy.

I send my girlfriends birthday cards. When I can remember to.

Always I add a colorful balloon and a dash of confetti. Who doesn’t like a little festive snow globe in the mail?

A while back, I realized that my mom uses highlighters on her cards, and my sister is partial to putting stickers on her envelopes. I didn’t realize it was a genetic disorder. Took some of the fun out of it once I realized I was predisposed to greeting card playtime.


I think each year is worth celebrating with a tiny flash of brilliance.

They are starting to remember though. Usually, after a year has gone by, they have forgotten and cover their living room floor in sparkles all over again. But lately I’ve seen one or two of them shake the envelope first.

That’s cheating ladies!

It’s interesting to me that no one has gone so far as to exact revenge. Certainly if I were annoyed enough by someone regularly toilet papering my front yard it would only be a matter of time before I visited them at 4am armed with cans of snow flocking and silly string.

Take comfort then, in my funeral arrangements.

I’ll be lying in my coffin with the lid closed. At first my plan needed it open but you have to realize that I’m focussing on being dead so the lid up is just going to distract me from my job.

So if you’re around for the part where I get lowered into the ground, instead of tossing flowers at me, you can toss some confetti.

If you don’t make it to the services, that’s perfectly okay. You can swing by the cemetery anytime and sprinkle some glitter over my grave.

I’m telling you.

They can mow for a thousand years. That sparkle will still be there.

Ask our school custodian.

I had newbie parent helpers one fateful day in our multi-purpose room, and put them in charge of the glitter station for 800 kids. They were quite enthusiastic.

Glitter does not come out of industrial carpet. Ever.

Or velvet curtains that drape majestically around the stage, especially if it’s mixed with the smallest bit of Elmer’s glue.

I know Mr Calvin thinks of me fondly every time he vacuums. That room was hit by fairy dust and it will glow far into the future.

When my big moment comes for popping out of the ground, I want it to explode with confetti!

In the meantime, I’ve been shopping for a chandelier.

I’m celebrating my One Year Mark as a blogger. One whole year of writing!

It has to be dripping with crystals and lit with tiny white fairy lights and hanging from a delicate silver chain. It doesn’t have to be very large, only extremely glittery.

If it throws prism rainbow drops on the walls, even better.

I am marking my milestones with exploding bits of twinkles.

These aren’t gray hairs.

They’re strands of glitter growing out of my head.