save the assistants

During the four years it took me to obtain a certificate stating I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree in Communication Studies, my mother frequently asked “what kind of job are you going to be able to get with that?” I placated her with various answers that currently escape my memory. I am certain, however, that never once did my answer include the words “administrative” or “assistant.” My current title, in fact, does not include these terms. Despite the fancy French etymology of “Concierge,” according to Webster’s Dictionary it still means “a person employed (as by a business) to make arrangements or run errands.”

Call it denial, but I probably still wouldn’t have thought of myself as an administrative assistant except for the fact that the private business club with which I am employed is celebrating administrative professionals week with a special expanded lunch buffet. While I’m not completely miserable being a concierge, I clearly did not spend four years in college so I could answer phones for a living. Yet here I am, stuck in a quarter-life crisis, over-qualified for my job but not sure what I’d rather be doing. My quandary is I really don’t want to admit that I belong in the category of over-worked, underpaid and rarely appreciated administrative assistants that will be celebrated tomorrow. But, if I don’t get some flowers or candy or at the very least a damn greeting card from my office tomorrow then I’ll be highly pissed off!–Submitted by Scarlett, “The Middle of Nowhere, North Carolina”