Advisor to the President

Ahhhhhhhh shitballs.

I just spent 1.5hours in a meeting with the advisor to the President and I didn't even know. I had figured he was important - he was wearing a lovely, non-shiny suit and matching tie. After my quarterly review yesterday (in which my entire work plan was scrapped, communications & ecotourism now my main function), I am not going to a lot of meetings with people who speak English. My first one was this morning. I started taking notes but it's really hard to follow when you don't know who is who, what the purpose of the meeting is for and the expected outcomes.

So I took notes and I know they don't make sense so I'm procrastinating by writing this instead.

At the conclusion of the meeting, I was formally introduced to Dashku - Advisor to the President of Mongolia. He asked my name (Sally) and my short name (ahhh, Sally? I almost said he could call me Sal.  Exceptions for high ranking people). I'm always very proudly paraded as an Australian Volunteer. It's like I'm a trophy for the organisation being functional enough to receive outside help.

Today I wore my k-mart shirt because, well, why not. It's not flattering and it's more a skivvy that doesn't fit properly. It looks pretty bad. Too late now. The Advisor to the President has seen me. Bugger it. I could have worn any  number of nice things I actually packed.

My boss has a brand new Merc. It's pretty bloody fancy looking.

Ah, shit. I just remember I started writing a list in front of that important guy. It's not even a good one. Bugger it.

Better update tonight. xox