3 Degrees of Federal Separation

I work for a federal program.
It's cool. I love my work. I'm totally committed to our cause and our mission.

However, sometimes I'm an idiot. Sometimes when my communications colleagues make a little joke over email about whether I'm strong enough to hold my own during a food fight, I spend 15 minutes of my lunch break PhotoShopping a muscle onto my arm and emailing it back to them. Sometimes the National Communications Director and the National Program Director are cc'd on those emails.

"For the record, I have a great arm!"

As the Communications Director for our region, I need to make a presentation in Des Moines on Monday to my National Communications Director to let her know what's going on in our region. She will report back to her boss, the National Program Director.

Makes sense. I can handle that. This is a natural chain of command in the bureaucracy.

And then someone tells me this: "That National Program Director reports to the President."

me: "which President?"

Someone: "The President of the United States."

me: "WHOA. I just sent her an email with a muscle PhotoShopped to my arm."

At least he can't say that I lack enthusiasm!

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