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Bell Curve


You're the new Assistant Account Coordinator hire in the PR department and were given an assignment for part of your first live event—writing a speech for your boss to present at a shareholder's meeting. The speech went well until he read off some figures and, because you transposed two of the numbers, he read off a number that was too low for shareholder expectations. This set them into a panic. Your boss quickly figured out what had happened and made the audience aware of the correct figure. He chewed you out the next day and you hid in the bathroom crying for a good half hour after that. Now your boss also thinks you take long dumps. Not a good week.


You've gotten into the swing of things and been promoted to Account Coordinator. You can crack the whip as well as the guy in the next cubicle and get your vendors to give you what you want, when you want. You're great at planning and pulling off sizeable promotions, putting out fires, and you've won a couple of awards along the way. Everything seems great—except that you’re exhausted and would really like to get some of your personal life back. This working 'round the clock has to stop sometime—right?


After, oh, about 7 years, you've finally made it to Account Executive ("it's been tough, but it's worth it" is what you keep saying to yourself—"oh, wait?! Am I using spin on myself?"). You get the cream of the crop assignments in your department—those that let you travel on occasion, have the largest budgets and expense accounts built in, and actually provide you with assistants so you can really get your own work done—and at a pace that is still fast, but not killing you. On average, you can go home after a reasonable amount of hours in the office (like 10 instead of 14), you often get a whole weekend to yourself, and it's easier to get a full night of sleep.


You're tired of working for one company and are now working at a small boutique PR agency as a senior exec. You've got a group of stellar clients, some famous, others not so much. Long days and late nights schmoozing have you starting to look your age (your real age, not the one you tell everyone). Some new recruits have been hired who are quicker and flashier than you are. In order to stay competitive, you schedule a "meeting" with one of your clients at a lavish spa for a day of massages, mani-pedis, facials (and manscaping for the dudes), then hit the designer stores for a new wardrobe. You talk business for all of 20 minutes and bill them for the whole day.


You're J.Lo’s main PR squeeze and, because you were able to put a positive spin on her nip slip at the Oscars so quickly, you've found yourself in high demand by other talented and scantily-clad Hollywood starlets. Can you say 'Mo Money! Party On!