Something that has been really pissing me off of late is that I’m feeling remarkably over managed. Not only do I have work coming in from my immediate line manager Mr Bigot, but I also have stuff coming direct from Mr Beardywalker-Type and from Ms Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses.
I mentioned this to Mr Big, the BIG boss of my work but being my usual flustery self couldnt quite convey what it was that I meant by over-managed.
Simply its this:-
In other jobs I’ve had, work filters down from higher echelons through to my manager who then disseminates and tasks his various minions with all manner of duties and microprojects. However in this job, although this filtering also occurs, I find that sometimes the managers higher up approach me directly with work to be done AND THEN approach my manager with the same tasks who then filters the work down to me. So it is not unusual for this to happen:-
Mr Bigot – I’ve been speaking to Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses about Situation B. stegzy can you do job “A” for me. Do it this way, I’ll tell you what to do and how I want it doing down to the minutest mouse click even if you’ve done it a thousand times before and I’m basically teaching you to put eggs in your mouth and create a vacuum behind them please.
stegzy – Yes I already have because Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses already asked me earlier.
Mr Bigot – Can you just check again even though you already did check and check again. Just incase your check didn’t check the check check check chick chuck.
stegzy – Wotever
In fact sometimes this will happen –
Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses – Oh hi stegzy I wor just wonderin’ if yew could do job “b” for me. Even though it isn’t you that does job “B” and can I give you impossible task “C” to do too because it needs doing and you might need to rewrite the entire kernel of the Windows operating system?
stegzy – Yes and I’ll put a broom up my arse and have the building swept clean too. I cannot do impossible task C because by its nature it is impossible for these reasons which I will relay to you using my significant knowledge and expertise.
Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses – Oh right But Can you do Impossible Task C for me anyway or look into it for me.
Some hours later
Mr Bigot ( on telephone to Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses ) – mm yeah so I’ll do impossible task “C”…oh whats that? Job “B”? yes that needs doing too. Uh huh….right…..**creep-creep**
Then to me
Mr Bigot – Er stegzy can I give you job” B” to do….and when you’ve finished that I’d like to think about Impossible task c with you so you can tell me exactly what it is that impossible task c entails and then I can say “Yes thats right of course but I knew that anyway I just wanted to discuss the details to make it sound like I actually knew what it was that made Impossible task C impossible”. I will then relay to Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses exactly what you told her and then exactly what you told me now because I am complete fuckwit.
Today has been no exception. Middle management poking about in the workings of the boiler room. That, my dear Middle Management course organisers, is BAD MANAGEMENT and fucking NOT BEST PRACTICE and is certainly a KEY ISSUE with regard to fucking TRANSPARENCY and FRAMEWORK fuckwittery. So stick that on your next Power-fucking-point presentation and have lunch on it. Today has annoyed me…I feel like I cannot be trusted to get on with my own workload. I feel like middle management feel that I do not know how to do my own job (when it is the people the other side of the counter that are circumventing the proper PROCEDURES and bypassing proper CHANNELS).
Another thing that Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses has done that really pissed me off is when I started here I was asked for input into the use and integration of helpdesk management software. Believe me this place needs it. We were all set and lining up for our final choice when Ms. Ive-been-on-one-too-many-corporate-training-courses comes back off maternity leave and decides that a piece of shitty software that came with a free corporate lunch would do the trick instead. So I look at the fucking thing and it looks like it was written by someone who did an evening course in VB6. It has about 2 useful functions and is buggy as hell. But of course they paid a lot of money for it.
ITS FUCKING WANK!
So I’m reaching the end of my tether. Telephone numbers for recruitment agencies are starting to make an appearance on my to do list.
Work is not the only thing I’m pissed off at. My volunteering drama thing has lost all its momentum. I no longer look forward to it. In fact I’ve not been for the past 5 weeks. 4 of which the sessions weren’t running anyway but nobody elected to tell me (in the end I found out through my wife). I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything there other than a presence. So I’m going to fuck it off and find something else to do. Its no wonder the voluntary sector is crying out for people. Possibly because when people do volunteer, the organisations don’t always relay what’s going on. Then maybe its just that place.
Furthermore, the wife says to me “Are you coming to my bosses-wifes party on Saturday?”
First I’ve heard of it.
I’m not going though. I really cannot be arsed with another night in the wifes work fibbling about pretending to be sociable with the three people I actually get on with from the wifes work. I cannot be arsed with the constant “Hows work?” “How are you settling in to Yorkshire” asked by uninterested people who are only making idle conversation so they don’t feel awkward because we actually have nothing in common to talk about. Like if I were to say “Oh yes I’m really enjoying my job being over managed. Its really good.” and “I’m settling in rather good with your quirky little customs, the banjo playing and your quaint worshipping of wicker men.” that would be it. Conversation ended.
The wifes work has a party every month nearly. I say “party” but the wife’s boss is one of those people that don’t stop working. And I don’t mean in a good way either. The wifes boss is one of those people that everything he says has got to be some sort of mission statement for his organisation. For example “Happy birthday to Jill” would become “Happy Birthday to Jill from all at Fundamental” or “Can I have a pound of mince please” would be come “Can I have a pound of mince for my Fundamental dinner please?” (They’re no Fun and irritatingly mental) and its like all staff birthdays must have a party at Fundamental itself. So far I’ve been to 4 parties of this ilk and every one of them has been a “Can we go home now”. Theyre like some kind of staff moral building exercise and worse (his own birthday party was a casino night where all funds raised went to Fundamental. So not only do you have to sit in the building you have to give a sodding donation! So to cut out the middle man I’m not going.
Pity really because I really get on with Jill and had it been a night on the lash round Grimey and Brierley I’d have leapt at the chance to go out. But it isn’t.
So I wont.
So the wife is pissed off with me because I told her exactly how her work (as in the noun not the verb) is making me feel. I know its entirely selfish but the thought of going to yet another evening at the Hub is too much to bare. Also, I pointed out, getting back from there is a pain in the bum. It might only be 5 miles away but there are no buses after a Tuesday in October when the wind blows from the north and the wolves howl and because Fitzwilliam is a shit hole, taxi firms are reluctant to enter into it without an armed escort from the SAS and the last legion of Ninjas.
“Well you can pick me up then”
So I can’t get pissed. Guess I’ll end up playing Warcraft or something which will no doubt end up in “All you ever seem to do is play that bloody game”. So maybe I won’t play warcraft on Saturday, I’ll just sit in the livingroom, in the dark, rocking back and forth on my sofa.
Christ on a bike this is a long self indulgent whinge entry. Bet nobody reads it.