The great Debra Hall would often express her disdain for her inherited assistant by saying, "She's as useful as a bag of hair."
[Fear not that you don't know the great Debra Hall.]
Now, I will say that the bag of hair that will be created when I finally feel my hair has grown to a sufficient length that I can donate it and still not have a boy's cut will, in fact, be useful.
Generally speaking, though? Bags of hair aren't of great value.
The place that I do my project work with has such a bag of hair working there. As a supervisor, no less. But, to me, she has never proven to be more useful than, well, yeah, a bag of hair.
This bag of hair called at 9:30 a.m. Wednesday to tell her boss that she was having trouble finding parking at the Walnut Creek BART station. She was supposed to be at work at 10 a.m.
So when folks called me at 2 p.m. to plead with me to come in Thursday to do the interviews with folks in the project-that-shall-not-be-named because said bag of hair had yet to show up and so couldn't be trained to do the Thursday morning appointments, I was pissed. Beyond pissed, particularly as it happened right after being brutally disappointed about something else.
Responsibility, folks. Stand up and take responsibility. And don't leave me the sole one holding the bag. Of hair.