When I first got the job of webmaster at this fine institution, it was by default. Default of my own big fucking mouth. At the time, I was merely the art director, and I had a new Director of Public Relations as my boss. She tossed me out of a meeting to discuss the possibility of doing a web site saying, and I quote: "I don't want you at this meeting. Nobody wants to hear what you have to say. You will only tell us what is wrong, and this doesn't have to be done right, it only has to be done."
So I found someone who did want to hear what I had to say, and I said it in a three-page "Jerry Maguire"-type memo. The person on the receiving end of said memo immediately stopped work on the "it only has to get done" web page and convened an oversite committee with my memo as its starting point. My PR director promptly fired me. The CIO (the guy who DID want to hear what I had to say) took that opportunity to merely have me moved to another department where I was tasked with building the web site.
Which is where the Little Red Hen comes in. Nobody in the PR office wanted to give me content, but they were the department in charge of content. I had to steal it from all the brochures I had ever produced as the art director.
Once the site was up and running, there came a battle for control between my new department (business development) and the PR office. Now that it's done, said PR, it's no longer a developent issue, it's a PR device. The CIO split the baby, and sent me and my website to the Medical Network Services division.
Well, that was two years ago, and I'm still in the Medical Information Services department, the PR department still can't stop the Miami Herald from hemmoraging bad ink about this hospital, and yet, even though one would think that possibly that group of vicious little people would have better things to do with their time, like, say, brushing up their resumes in anticipation of our first new president in 15 years, and one who has a mandate to be a new broom, they are back flogging the same dead horse as ever. To wit: That I am someone that none of them wishes to work with and I'm difficult.
To which I say, I may be difficult, but you are idiots. And I'd rather be a bitch than an idiot any day of the week.
So I found someone who did want to hear what I had to say, and I said it in a three-page "Jerry Maguire"-type memo. The person on the receiving end of said memo immediately stopped work on the "it only has to get done" web page and convened an oversite committee with my memo as its starting point. My PR director promptly fired me. The CIO (the guy who DID want to hear what I had to say) took that opportunity to merely have me moved to another department where I was tasked with building the web site.
Which is where the Little Red Hen comes in. Nobody in the PR office wanted to give me content, but they were the department in charge of content. I had to steal it from all the brochures I had ever produced as the art director.
Once the site was up and running, there came a battle for control between my new department (business development) and the PR office. Now that it's done, said PR, it's no longer a developent issue, it's a PR device. The CIO split the baby, and sent me and my website to the Medical Network Services division.
Well, that was two years ago, and I'm still in the Medical Information Services department, the PR department still can't stop the Miami Herald from hemmoraging bad ink about this hospital, and yet, even though one would think that possibly that group of vicious little people would have better things to do with their time, like, say, brushing up their resumes in anticipation of our first new president in 15 years, and one who has a mandate to be a new broom, they are back flogging the same dead horse as ever. To wit: That I am someone that none of them wishes to work with and I'm difficult.
To which I say, I may be difficult, but you are idiots. And I'd rather be a bitch than an idiot any day of the week.