Jamie and I spent the last few weeks flying back and forth to head office, three to four days a week. That's one of those things that sounds unspeakably glamourous when you're an intern but turns out to be a pretty soul-crushing grind.
I take that back. Working 21-hour days on a Liberian rubber plantation, turning tricks in a Thai brothel, outbound telemarketing those are soul-crushing. Anything where you can expense a fancy lunch probably doesn't qualify. Still, the novelty wore off rather quickly.
The worst are the same-day trips. It's fine if you're going for a big presentation, but for status updates? Imagine the dullest meeting you've ever attended; the most pointless, mind-numbing exercise in counter-productivity conceivable. Now imagine you had to fly coach to get there. I was particularly amused when Jamie had to fly out just to get briefed over the phone by an Account Director back in Toronto.
Don't ask. It made sense to somebody.
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