Monday, September 17, 2007

Oh God, I'm old.

I had yet another FRG-related meeting today to discuss more FRG-related training and FRG-related brainstorming to somehow fundraise money without actually selling anything, raffling anything or just plain asking for it. (Note: My sensible notion of just telling all the soldiers to donate $10 if single or $25 if with a family to the "FRG Fund" was shot down -- the highers-up failed to see the irony).

But during a break, a few of us are kvetching outside the conference room. And one of the newer ladies starts in on how she had a fight the other day with her boss. The long and the short of it was that this woman felt that she knew better than her boss and was talking about all the education and experience that she had that her boss did not.

And you know, she had me with her for most of her spiel. I thought she was right and the way she was piling on the credentials, I was having difficulty seeing why her boss was ignoring such brilliance.

Until, that is...(and isn't there always an until?)...she says, "You know, it's not like I'm not qualified for her job. I'm 23 years old..."

And that's when she lost me. 23, huh? I guess I thought I pretty much knew it all at 23, too. No wonder her boss stopped listening.

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