One day, at work:
It is 10.45. I am about to get up from my desk to go to the canteen for my tea break.
All of a sudden...
HEO: Govstooge?
Govstooge: (Jaysus) Yes, O boss?
HEO: How is everything going?
Govstooge: Fine. Same as yesterday.
HEO: How did you get on with that job I gave you last week?
Govstooge: I told you yesterday, the person I need to speak to is out sick, and there's no-one else to cover. They're not due back until next Tuesday.
HEO: Oh yes, now I remember. And, is there anything else?
Govstooge: No, nothing.
HEO: You're sure now? You would tell me?
Govstooge: Of course. (I edge towards the door.)
HEO: Oh and one other thing...
Govstooge: (Jesus, you've been in since 9 and you pick this time to talk to me?) What?
HEO: Have a nice tea break! (Heh heh heh, that's at least five minutes knocked off Govstooge's tea break. A new personal best. Must put it down in the log. Muahahahaha.)
Govstooge: For fuck's sake.
Showing posts with label Labour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Labour. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Fantastic Foaming Mouth Functionary
I'm going through a rather busy period at work of late and haven't been attending to writing as much as I would like to; I just want to turn my brain off in the evenings and watch my Scrubs boxsets before trudging upstairs to bed and entering a comatose state for several hours.
I've been doing more hours than the 6.57 that is required of me daily ( Yes, my flexitime balance is incredibly healthy, and I'm praying for a chance to use the day off). The work just keeps on coming and I have to stay on top of it, because the clerical officers will have fuck all to do when I pass the boring bits onto them. And, on top of all that, I have a big deadline looming. If program files on my C: drive were actual physical entities, then Arse Race.exe would have six inches of nasty Government dust and other detritus on it.
Well, it's better than no job at all. That's what keeps me motivated to go in every day. I've spent some time signing on at the dole office and actually taking recruitment "consultants" seriously. At one stage I was even been tempted to work at a call centre with a bad reputation, for minimum wage, just to get off the dole queue. (It was when I realised at the interview that bonuses were paid in pizza that I said "G'luck, I'm off to sign on" and turned to the door.)
That's also what motivates me to do my job well, or at least, to the best of my ability. I put my head down and try to see the task through to its conclusion. Apart from the swearing, mood swings and threatening to rip the arms off clerical officers and beat them to death with the wet end, I like to think I set a good example. Especially when I'm busy as I get my head down and render myself oblivious to what's going on around me. Not an easy task given the open plan layout and the volume of shite-talk from all corners. I don't deal with interruptions too well.
I don't deal very well with being assigned additional tasks when I'm clearly under pressure either. For instance:
Boss: Err... Govstooge?
Me: Whu... what??
Boss: Could you do something with this? (Hands me a file)
Me: Whatever. Add it to the pile, I'll get round to it some time this century.
Boss: Well, it's just that I'd like something on it this evening.
Me: (Gesticulating at the piles of paper in front of me) Maybe it's best to get someone else to do it. I'm up the walls here. Hey! You know what would be really quick?
Boss: What?
Me: If you did it yourself?
Seriously, I don't advocate talking to superior officers in that fashion as a matter of course. But when you KNOW that the boss has been on the phone to their partner or their mother all morning, or trying to get on the Joe Duffy show to whinge about medical cards or surfing the internet and using Alt_Tab not quite quickly enough for you not to see the EBay page open when you go to their desk with something - when you've been working your hole off, it brings out a vicious streak. On certain days it's as close to apoplexy as a healthy young person such as myself is likely to get.
When my deadline is up, and it will be soon (and yes, I'm on track), I'm going to rest on my laurels for ooh, I don't know, a couple of days, take some flexi time off and get a headstart on Christmas shopping so I can beat the rush and avoid further stress.
No, I won't do the shopping online at work. I've more principles than that (sniffs haughtily). Besides, a few of the clerical officers can see my monitor. Ordering Nazi memorabilia for Uncle Joe within their line of sight may not be big or clever.
I've been doing more hours than the 6.57 that is required of me daily ( Yes, my flexitime balance is incredibly healthy, and I'm praying for a chance to use the day off). The work just keeps on coming and I have to stay on top of it, because the clerical officers will have fuck all to do when I pass the boring bits onto them. And, on top of all that, I have a big deadline looming. If program files on my C: drive were actual physical entities, then Arse Race.exe would have six inches of nasty Government dust and other detritus on it.
Well, it's better than no job at all. That's what keeps me motivated to go in every day. I've spent some time signing on at the dole office and actually taking recruitment "consultants" seriously. At one stage I was even been tempted to work at a call centre with a bad reputation, for minimum wage, just to get off the dole queue. (It was when I realised at the interview that bonuses were paid in pizza that I said "G'luck, I'm off to sign on" and turned to the door.)
That's also what motivates me to do my job well, or at least, to the best of my ability. I put my head down and try to see the task through to its conclusion. Apart from the swearing, mood swings and threatening to rip the arms off clerical officers and beat them to death with the wet end, I like to think I set a good example. Especially when I'm busy as I get my head down and render myself oblivious to what's going on around me. Not an easy task given the open plan layout and the volume of shite-talk from all corners. I don't deal with interruptions too well.
I don't deal very well with being assigned additional tasks when I'm clearly under pressure either. For instance:
Boss: Err... Govstooge?
Me: Whu... what??
Boss: Could you do something with this? (Hands me a file)
Me: Whatever. Add it to the pile, I'll get round to it some time this century.
Boss: Well, it's just that I'd like something on it this evening.
Me: (Gesticulating at the piles of paper in front of me) Maybe it's best to get someone else to do it. I'm up the walls here. Hey! You know what would be really quick?
Boss: What?
Me: If you did it yourself?
Seriously, I don't advocate talking to superior officers in that fashion as a matter of course. But when you KNOW that the boss has been on the phone to their partner or their mother all morning, or trying to get on the Joe Duffy show to whinge about medical cards or surfing the internet and using Alt_Tab not quite quickly enough for you not to see the EBay page open when you go to their desk with something - when you've been working your hole off, it brings out a vicious streak. On certain days it's as close to apoplexy as a healthy young person such as myself is likely to get.
When my deadline is up, and it will be soon (and yes, I'm on track), I'm going to rest on my laurels for ooh, I don't know, a couple of days, take some flexi time off and get a headstart on Christmas shopping so I can beat the rush and avoid further stress.
No, I won't do the shopping online at work. I've more principles than that (sniffs haughtily). Besides, a few of the clerical officers can see my monitor. Ordering Nazi memorabilia for Uncle Joe within their line of sight may not be big or clever.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Hug an EO today!
Well on this sad day when the nation's flag is at half-mast outside the Department in respect to the late President Paddy Hillery, did this sombre sight dictate the mood for the working day and prompt quiet reflection among the staff within?
Did it bollocks.
I have never had a more manic working day in my entire life. A few more of these and I will have an ulcer/ stroke / heart attack / all 3 at once (Well, I suppose it beats the Hepatitis A contractable from Untidy Guy's desk).
My colleagues saw an even darker side to Govstooge today as the leave forms/ expense forms / old envelopes with messages from Untidy guy written on them piled up on my desk. Along with some wonderful fun things like people asking me very detailed questions on work I'm not fully up to speed with - I've only taken over certain tasks in recent days. On top of that, a senior manager imposes a near-impossible deadline on this very work which means I will be running around collating the work and will almost certainly be in the firing line if anything goes arseways. Fuck this. Yes, the dark side emerged as Govstooge scowled even more than usual - giving myself a nasty tension headache in the process - and I'm sure I actually shouted "Can't it fucking wait?" at someone.
I made some small attempts to lighten my load. I used the Out Tray to deal with some of the more indecipherable messages from Untidy Guy. Yes, I fucked them in the bin. There were so many messages, that three or four would not be missed. Honestly, life is too short to have to endure the rambling nonsense that would pass for an explanation. That is one trait he shares with the HEO.
But I have to listen to the HEO, there's the difference. A 20 minute directive from my boss today had me still scratching my head wondering how am I going to transmit this downwards to the clerical officers. So I managed to get the HEO to explain it directly to them instead. This chain-of-command stuff is rubbish, and anyway I don't think it made any more sense to them than it did to me.
There is nothing more alarming than having six people at once clamouring for your attention. "Sign this", "What do we do with this?", "Can I have tomorrow off?", "Did you get that query from Personnel?", "Can I go to the toilet?", "Where's the door?"
Jesus Christ, all I want is to sit unnoticed in a corner somewhere. That's what they told me I'd be doing when I signed up, but I haven't had a game of Arse Race in six months.
I need a hug. And not from any smelly bastards either. They can fuck off.
Did it bollocks.
I have never had a more manic working day in my entire life. A few more of these and I will have an ulcer/ stroke / heart attack / all 3 at once (Well, I suppose it beats the Hepatitis A contractable from Untidy Guy's desk).
My colleagues saw an even darker side to Govstooge today as the leave forms/ expense forms / old envelopes with messages from Untidy guy written on them piled up on my desk. Along with some wonderful fun things like people asking me very detailed questions on work I'm not fully up to speed with - I've only taken over certain tasks in recent days. On top of that, a senior manager imposes a near-impossible deadline on this very work which means I will be running around collating the work and will almost certainly be in the firing line if anything goes arseways. Fuck this. Yes, the dark side emerged as Govstooge scowled even more than usual - giving myself a nasty tension headache in the process - and I'm sure I actually shouted "Can't it fucking wait?" at someone.
I made some small attempts to lighten my load. I used the Out Tray to deal with some of the more indecipherable messages from Untidy Guy. Yes, I fucked them in the bin. There were so many messages, that three or four would not be missed. Honestly, life is too short to have to endure the rambling nonsense that would pass for an explanation. That is one trait he shares with the HEO.
But I have to listen to the HEO, there's the difference. A 20 minute directive from my boss today had me still scratching my head wondering how am I going to transmit this downwards to the clerical officers. So I managed to get the HEO to explain it directly to them instead. This chain-of-command stuff is rubbish, and anyway I don't think it made any more sense to them than it did to me.
There is nothing more alarming than having six people at once clamouring for your attention. "Sign this", "What do we do with this?", "Can I have tomorrow off?", "Did you get that query from Personnel?", "Can I go to the toilet?", "Where's the door?"
Jesus Christ, all I want is to sit unnoticed in a corner somewhere. That's what they told me I'd be doing when I signed up, but I haven't had a game of Arse Race in six months.
I need a hug. And not from any smelly bastards either. They can fuck off.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw...
Management. A wonderful career, the aspiration of those lured by the extra few quid, the power, the sex (Ok, maybe not, bleargh!) and best of all, getting paid for telling other people to do your work for you. What could be better?
Maybe in the private sector, it's like that, but in the civil service the place is full of fucking managers. They can't all be having that much fun, it's statistically improbable. Take me for instance. I belong to the lowest stratum of management in the civil service. I make fuck all money compared to HEOs and APs (assistant principals).
The EO is the second-hardest working grade of civil servant (which isn't saying much), second only to the clerical officer. Notice a trend here, anybody? Yes, the higher up you go, the less you have to do.
The most interesting grade is HEO, those people trapped in a middle management limbo. The ones who flap and squirt verbal diarrhoea on EOs. The ones who suck up to senior management with an obsequiousness second only to that of medieval courtiers and those about to commit hari-kari for the Japanese Emperor.
My HEO really pissed me off today. Last week I (briefly) put aside one deadline (let's call it D1 for shortness sake) in order to attend to Deadline 2 (D2). D2 was approaching sooner than D1 and the HEO reminded me not once, but twice in the same day (!) that D2 had to be met. So D1, due a week later, suffered a minor set back - but it is still on target.
Today, HEO informs me that the AP was "disappointed" that D1 wasn't progressing as well as expected. (You see, APs rarely communicate directly with EOs or COs. Information must pass through all layers of management until, ultimately, it reaches the clerical officers, by which time the meaning has been lost and no-one knows what the fuck they are supposed to be doing.)
I told my HEO that I had to give a lot of time to D2 and couldn't progress D1 at the same time. HEO then tells me that D2 "could have waited till this week!"
Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I sweated my arse off meeting D2 last week, and now, just because the AP is pissed off, the HEO does a complete U-turn and makes me look like shit.
Thanks very much, boss. You fucking asshole.
Maybe in the private sector, it's like that, but in the civil service the place is full of fucking managers. They can't all be having that much fun, it's statistically improbable. Take me for instance. I belong to the lowest stratum of management in the civil service. I make fuck all money compared to HEOs and APs (assistant principals).
The EO is the second-hardest working grade of civil servant (which isn't saying much), second only to the clerical officer. Notice a trend here, anybody? Yes, the higher up you go, the less you have to do.
The most interesting grade is HEO, those people trapped in a middle management limbo. The ones who flap and squirt verbal diarrhoea on EOs. The ones who suck up to senior management with an obsequiousness second only to that of medieval courtiers and those about to commit hari-kari for the Japanese Emperor.
My HEO really pissed me off today. Last week I (briefly) put aside one deadline (let's call it D1 for shortness sake) in order to attend to Deadline 2 (D2). D2 was approaching sooner than D1 and the HEO reminded me not once, but twice in the same day (!) that D2 had to be met. So D1, due a week later, suffered a minor set back - but it is still on target.
Today, HEO informs me that the AP was "disappointed" that D1 wasn't progressing as well as expected. (You see, APs rarely communicate directly with EOs or COs. Information must pass through all layers of management until, ultimately, it reaches the clerical officers, by which time the meaning has been lost and no-one knows what the fuck they are supposed to be doing.)
I told my HEO that I had to give a lot of time to D2 and couldn't progress D1 at the same time. HEO then tells me that D2 "could have waited till this week!"
Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I sweated my arse off meeting D2 last week, and now, just because the AP is pissed off, the HEO does a complete U-turn and makes me look like shit.
Thanks very much, boss. You fucking asshole.
Back to the real job
I have been working my fucking arse off for the past five weeks. I've been coming in early and staying back late in order to meet all the targets and deadlines that have been pressing down on me. Thankfully, once this week is over, the pressure will be more or less off. And I can go back to playing Arse Race and Solitaire for a living again.
Woo
Yay
Houpla.
Woo
Yay
Houpla.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
The next five weeks...
Had a meeting with my HEO and my AP today.
It looks like I'm going to have to do some work for the next five weeks.
Bugger.
It looks like I'm going to have to do some work for the next five weeks.
Bugger.
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