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A Trained Monkey Could Do My Job

This article is more than 8 years old.

Dear Liz,

I'm in a jam! I was desperate to get out of my Senior Associate job at a PR firm where they worked us like dogs.

After Senior Associate the next step up is Partner, and you can imagine how many people make that leap (I think there's been one person promoted from Senior Associate to Partner in the last five years, and she was dating another Partner).

Everyone in the firm knows that you have to jump ship after a year or two in the Senior Associate role.

I saw a chance to make my move and I did it, but now I think I made a mistake. I took a job as the Communication Officer for a scientific institute that is attached to a university.

I thought it would be lofty. The last Communication Officer quit to have a baby, or at least that was the reason they told me.

The Communication Officer for the institute is the PR person, but this is not like any PR job I ever saw. They quizzed me at the interview:

Can you write a press release? Of course!

Can you keep a media database up to date? Certainly!

Can you interview scientists and write articles for our newsletter? No problem!

I thought the job would be a snap, and it is, but that's not a good thing.

The scientists are great people but this institute makes up maybe ten percent of their jobs. I make up reasons to talk to them, because the office is horrible and I am not exaggerating. My office-mates are clerical/secretarial ladies who complain all day long.

They talk about their squabbles with their neighbors and they complain about their husbands. In this office it's 1968 all over again.

I wish I had interviewed with the Executive Director before I took this job. I asked to meet him, but they told me he was too busy. Too busy! He is the least charismatic leader I've ever met. He is a drip. He has nothing to say and avoids all human contact.

He mumbled "Hello" with his eyes averted on the day I started and we haven't spoken since. I wrote to him asking for a meeting and he ignored that, so I stopped by his office to suggest that we touch base.

He didn't look at me but he said "When my schedule eases up." He doesn't do anything, Liz! This institute is a joke.

My office-mates are unhappy women ten or fifteen years older than me.

They can't stand each other and I hear about all the drama whenever one of them is out of the office or off at lunch. I am going out of my mind.

I don't have a boss. My boss on paper is the Executive Director and he has no interest in what I do. I made a PR plan my first week on the job and I can't get anybody to look at it. I have to pretend to be busy because there's literally nothing to do for hours at a time.

Honestly, a trained rhesus monkey could do my job. No one would know the difference if a quiet ape replaced me at my desk one day.

What can I do now to solve my problem? I'll launch a new job search if I have to but do you think there's a way to save this position?

Thanks,

Emily

Dear Emily,

That sounds awful! I had a job in a basement on Wall Street one time that was similar. There was nothing to do all day and no one was interested in changing that. My co-workers liked the non-existent workload and brainless activity.

I was going out of my mind by the second week on the job, but I treasure the memory of that place because it's where I saw Godzilla, the scaly mascot of bureaucracy, face to face for the first time.

You don't have to make an iron-clad plan to leave the institute. You can begin to stretch your job description and see what happens. Maybe your workmates will be okay with it, and if they aren't, you'll have plenty of notice that your envelope-pushing ways are rubbing people the wrong way.

Mr. Eyes Averted doesn't sound like the type to fire his Communication Officer on a whim one day. You'll get signals if your manager isn't wild about your efforts to bring more value to the institute and stave off the death of your brain cells.

Nature abhors a vacuum. You said that your Executive Director doesn't do anything and that he's a mope. Universities hate to spend money on air. If your ED isn't producing anything useful, the institute may be disbanded. You might be assigned to a more lively job elsewhere in the university.

Since you can't sit around and wait for that to happen, you've got to make your own work while you figure out your next move.

Here are some ideas that will get you out of your office and bring glory to your institute, a day at a time, while you figure out whether you can stay there or whether you've got to hit the road:

  • As Communication Officer, you can go visit other institutes on campus and the heads of departments to bring them up to date on your institute's projects and learn about what they're doing, too. You can interview each of these lofty folks and write up the interviews for your institute's website or its newsletter, or both. That will make you some new friends!
  • You can create a monthly update to let all your new friends and the local media know what your institute's team is up to. Warm up the energy with your office-mates by profiling each of them in a different issue of your newsletter. Who doesn't like a little recognition?
  • Since you like scientists, check in with your science friends again and ask them what the institute's big plans for the rest of this year look like. Put together a draft Communications Roadmap and send it to your Executive Director with a note that says "Here's my draft communications roadmap. I know you're busy, so I'll plunge ahead unless I hear about changes from  you."

The race goes to the swift Emily, and it's easier to get forgiveness than permission! As you learn your way around the campus and meet everyone who's anyone there, keep your eyes open for cooler job opportunities than the one you've got right now.

This job is going to serve you somehow over the long run, I promise! Focus on growing your flame, whether the people nearest to you appreciate your zest for the job or not.

Keep your chin up!

Best,

Liz