The TP Report on Tissue - part 2

If you've followed thus far, you'll recall the first TP Report on Tissue detailed how to prepare for your inevitable role as shoulder to cry on. In part two, and last of this series, we'll focus on the TP, the toilet paper.

After the incident in part 1, I left the office to check into the Omni Parker House Hotel in Boston. Tired and puffy-eyed, I knew my aura looked less-than-stellar when there was universal agreement among the check-in staff when I requested a room far, far away from the elevators.

"They make a lot of noise."
"Yes, Ms. Amie, we understand. That shouldn't be a problem."
"Thank you."
"You're so welcome. No problem. No problem at all. Our pleasure."

Then, I walked, and walked and walked down a long, Barton Fink-like corridor toward my room. Entered. Flicked on the light. Dumped my luggage.

"Man I gotta pee!" Flicked on the bathroom light and THIS:



Isn't it beautiful?

In my quandary of hopelessness that bordered on self-loathing, I was saved. By a roll of toilet paper wrapped in a lovely pink ribbon.

The takeaway?

Besides the odd, yet effective way this hotel made me feel like a million bucks. I realized that toilet paper wrapped in a beautiful pink ribbon was the solution what made me cry in part one. I'm in PR. I know how to go the extra mile. I know that sometimes it's not so much the message, it's how the message is delivered. I know this, and still let a project-gone-bad get the better of me, and my attitude.

Whether your starting a new job, or trying to hold onto the job you have while the economy tanks. Now is the time to pull out the stops when it comes to presentation. It is the only thing that differentiates you. It may be even be more important than the actual work. After all, I am talking about Toilet Paper here.

My resolution for 2009? "The Amie PR Campaign." Or, "Rolls and Rolls and lots-o-bows."