The team warned me: “She expects you to think.” They didn’t warn me that she’d also remember your kid’s name, the deadline you mentioned once in passing, and the fact that you prefer dark roast.
By 3 p.m., I saw the downside. Karen moves fast. She’s already rewritten the Monday status report template, reassigned three lingering tasks that no one wanted, and sent a polite but devastating email to a vendor who’s been overcharging us for six months. Watching her work is like watching someone solve a Rubik’s cube while also cooking dinner. Efficient, but exhausting.
Day One.
And I have no idea what she’ll ask me tomorrow.
So when I arrived at 7:45—coffee in hand, trying to remember which floor the creative team was on—I wasn’t prepared for what actually happened.