Their attitude, my problem

One of the reasons I loathe this job so much is that this company cruelly and selfishly take away my reasons for loathing it with their complete lack of bastard corporate behaviour of which, through temping, I have grown so fond. I am the ultimate armchair rebel. You won’t find me throwing Molotov cocktails in the rioting streets but you will find me undermining productivity with my complete disregard for corporate process. It’s my way of making the world a better place. But it’s hard to rebel against no boundaries. It’s frustrating for me and makes me feel like I have no use in this world. Take this company. When I told them I was travelling to Edinburgh for over a month and wanted unpaid leave, instead of firing me like I was hoping, they said to just let them know when I’d be getting back. When I took the day off work on Thursday last week for no good reason other than I wanted to sleep in, they retaliated by giving me a pay rise when I walked in on Friday. Will they never learn? After years of being treated like office flint in various hellish temping roles, I have been conditioned into victim mentality – if I am not ignored and reprimanded and treated badly, then how do I know they care?

They made an effort with my pay rise on Friday, I’ll give them that. The department co-ordinator called me into her office and handed me an envelope marked ‘confidential’ along with the words ‘this is from both departments and we are all in agreement over this’. For one trepidatious moment, I thought I was being fired. The old feeling returned…perhaps I hadn’t lost my touch, perhaps my attitude problem had not been dissipated by maturity and life experience but had merely been on sabbatical. Glimpses of a future full of daytime television and unemployment benefits teased me. Memories came creeping back… of the time I’d been fired from a film company for a typo on an important contract that had been signed by all parties before the mistake was discovered…of the time I’d been fired from London’s premier newspaper for complete lack of respect for my job…of the time I’d walked out of a Shepherd’s Bush restaurant after yelling at the gay Icelandic manager (on a busy Friday night) that he was a f*cking asshole (which he was but in hindsight guess I could have expressed it with a little more subtlety).

Anyway, I haven’t gone 10 steps down the hallway before opening the envelope to discover a 10% pay rise.

Those utter, utter bastards.

Reasons why the word 'fuck' was invented

I just can't get off the topic of this stupid Performance Review.

I turned up to the 'meeting' last Monday fortnight to find that the two lawyers with whom I was meant to talk about my performance were too busy to talk to me and the Admin Co-ordinator wouldn't talk with just me - she told me to reschedule so that the lawyers could attend next time. Given the public holiday on Monday and the one day a fortnight rotation, this means that my performance review will be in a month. Given that I am going overseas on August 1st, this means that the ONE DAY that I come in between now and then is the day that I will have to talk about my goals and other attendant bullshit. Given that I am out of the country for a month, this means that my performance review will be discussing the SIX DAYS IN TOTAL that I will be working in that department from now UNTIL THE END OF THE YEAR. To prepare me for this interview, the admin co-ordinator gave me an 8 PAGE QUESTIONNAIRE for me to fill in to bring to this stupid fucking meeting.

Thinking about this in bed last night, I realised that the word 'fuck' was made up specifically for performance reviews. In particular, for ONE FUCKING DAY A FUCKING FORTNIGHT PERFORMANCE FUCKING REVIEWS.

SIX FUCKING DAYS FOR THE REST OF THE FUCKING YEAR, PEOPLE.

In a world where death, disease and injustice reign supreme, it's nice to know that the microcosmic society that is Corporateland doesn't let these apocalyptic entities reduce the importance of annual Performance Reviews.

In my itinerant ten year career as a secretary with an attitude problem I have always sidestepped the performance review issue. I have never, even during hellish stints as a 'full time permanent employee, been subject to the horrific boredom and redundancy that is the annual performance review.

But you can only dodge the bullet for so long.

As an employee of this particular firm, I am subject to performance reviews.

As a permanent part timer who works ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT in Department B, I assume that a performance review is unnecessary and possibly a little ridiculous.

As a logical human being, I am proved wrong by the powers that be in Department B. I do, apparently, need to do a performance review for my ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT role in order to 'align my goals with that of the people [I] job share with'.

Let's forecast this review, shall we?

1. Can you reflect on your role as to how you have performed to date, what skills you currently have and what capabilities you will need to achieve your goals?
A. Um, I have turned up to work ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT. I am skilled in the office procedures required of me ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT and my goal is to not work more than ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT in this department.

2.What are your goals for the coming year?
A. To work even less than ONE DAY A FORTNIGHT for you.

3.How will you achieve your goals?
A.By being forced to attend one more of these sessions. If you do that, I will quit.

drink drank drunk

It is one thing to turn up to a full day of work in a job that means nothing but paying the rent.

It is another thing entirely to turn up to said dayjob with a raging hangover and very little sleep. Something I seem to be doing a lot of these days even though I only work a five day fortnight.

Being hungover in a dayjob is very different to a hangover in general. The difference can be likened to someone gently poking you with a screwdriver and someone getting a screwdriver and ramming it into your ear. There is no respite from the harsh fluourescent overhead lights, the inane conversation, constant white noise, the glaring lack of a comfortable couch and daytime television and there are only so many times you can go downstairs for coffee before people start to notice.

It would be better for everyone if I just went home and started from scratch tomorrow. I've been sitting here watching time creep slooooowly forward since 9am and have done no significant work apart from printing out emails for the people I work for as they are physically unable to print themselves - their fingers might explode if they did something even vaguely hinting of manual labour.

And yes, I am now 30. And still glad to be nursing hangovers instead of babies.