My first job out of college was not the glamorous job I had dreamed of. I wasn’t an editor of some small but up-and-coming publishing house. I wasn’t writing articles for The New Yorker.
I was a receptionist.
When you’re a receptionist, people seem to forget that you need your personal space.
People also seem think that you’re their personal assistant just because you happen to answer the phone.
I needed the job, so I couldn’t say anything.
But I had more power than people gave me credit for.