Memoirs Of An Admin Guru

Somewhere there's a place for us. Somewhere there's a place for us.
She wanted so much to get that job in the office. ADMINISTRATIVE GURU read the advertisement. The perfect job.

I wish to apply for the administrative guru position as advertised in The Age on Saturday June 12.
It was no longer enough to be merely an administrative wiz or an administrative expert. She had to upsize her talents. The young lady had to become the ADMINISTRATIVE GURU!
It was going to be tough to work up to the prerequisite 80 words a minute. She would practice at night. Every night by typing along with her favorite records.

Charlie I'm pregnant. Living on Ninth Street. Above a dirty bookstore.
The first record she took dictation from was Blue Valentine by Tom Waits, the record which reminded her of Christmas, and the scraggly boy she met on her 17th birthday.
She breezed through the first two songs but Christmas Card From Hooker in Minneapolis smacked her chair squared, arse. No problem with the speed but she couldn't spell Minneapolis.. This caused her to stumble and miss the first couple of lines. Charlie I'm pregnant was easy, she knew that that well but from then on it would be difficult.
She would never be a administrative guru.
No.
The highly organized applicant began to listen to the words.

Charlie I'm broke.
This song is a real story. I can't remember this one. Sidetracked, these thoughts are certainly not work related. Stick with the process girl. This is the mistake of the expert or even the wiz but the Administrative Guru would never fall for an easy ploy like a soppy ballad with a punchline.
The wizard was becoming the guru.

$29 (and an alligator purse) was easy. She could decipher Waits' grumblings because she was a true professional. She was a new member of Tom's band.
And ladies and gentlemen, on the keys.... The guru!
Play it again Guru! Yeah, how 'bout that band!

Wooshin' down with snooze powder, waiting for a ditch.
Hard lyrics to take down but it's The Guru we're talkin' about. She's amazing. Hire her. She can do no wrong!
Then came the saddest song in the world, Kentucky Avenue.

Eddie Grace's buick with four bullets in the sky….
Oh no.