In the Thick of It

Last week wasn't an easy one for me.

I discovered 1920s style personal hygiene due to the total absence of water in my house, decided it was crap and went round to an unaffected friend's house to borrow their shower in exchange for some beer. I may have a filthy tongue, but smelly I am not. Anyway, the H2O's back now, pouring from my taps as well as drenching me from on high when I go outside, so all that's over.

A HEO descended on me with a printout of an email from Personnel. "Please conduct PMDS annual reviews asap," it said. "Bugger." I replied. And then, "You could just have forwarded that to me... save the trees and all that." The HEO responded that I smelt too nice to be a tree hugger and told me to just do it. Arse.

The second working week of the new year flung me into the shit with a new project that demanded intense concentration and participation of me. Neither of which I really wanted to supply at the time but I think I muddled through OK only to burn out just as the weekend was upon me.

In spite of this, I was happy to have the Bearded One (aka "Himself") turn up on my doorstep with some beers and a bottle of Buckfast. The resultant hangover rendered me useless for most of Saturday, which was an utter pain in the arse as there was stuff to be done that had to be put on hold as I lay upstairs trying to shut out the waves of alcohol-induced pain surging through my cranium.

This week feels far more calm. So far. Mind you, I haven't gotten round to those PMDS forms yet so who knows what delights they have in store for me.

Oh, Bugger.

Rumour has it that the CPSU have lifted their embargo on completing PMDS forms and reviews!

Just my fucking luck. I had a great summer not having to fill in countless stupid Interim Review. forms and now the annual reviews are here to bite me on the arse. Or papercut me on the arse. I don't know.

Yes, more of the same old treadmill of booking rooms, arranging meetings with clerical officers only to find that when you both get to the room, it's occupied by two trysting HEOs and then the clerical officer wants to go to the toilet and you say "Ok", and the CO goes off in the direction of the jacks and is never seen again because he/she had an inkling that you were going to give them a bollocking. Next time you have to do a review, you decide to hold the meeting in the toilets.

Or you might have to find a broom cupboard to have the meeting in, and then it's always with the smelliest CO in the building and being in a confined space with them makes you vomit up your lunch all over the form.

2010 will be easier in terms of not having as many meetings. (I will have more real work to do, but that's fine - not as annoying.) The Department has shed some staff due to DSFA pinching them, there have been early retirements under the incentivised scheme, and of course, career breaks. There will be less pressure on the meeting rooms for PMDS appraisals with the staff we have left. I might even get a meeting room with a window this time around!

Bless me manager, for I have sinned

I had my Interim PMDS review a couple of weeks ago.

In spite of the moods, the flailing about, the swearing, the general scowling that I was demonstrating earlier this year, my HEO is happy with me!

Well, the job is being done, and on time. And that's the bottom line I suppose. And no-one's really been hurt.

So, I'm a pretty decent, if sweary, EO.

Take note, Bord Snip.

I probably have the right temperament to be levied off from my current Department to the Department of Social and Family Affairs. DSFA are conscripting civil servants from all other Departments to help with the backlog.

I'll probably remain under the radar, but I could prove to be a powerful weapon in dealing with some of the more errant and antisocial claimants in the dole office:

CO: Govstooge, that man over there's pissing on the floor!

Govstooge: Pass me my machete. It's sausage time. (Leaps over counter).

Or...

Govstooge: Here, you can't consume alcohol on these premises.

Wino Claimant: Burp! Fuck off!

Govstooge: Make me. Oh look, I've grabbed your wine. And you're too pissed to get up and do something about it. Not to worry, I'll have security help you to the door.

Wino Claimant: Belch! Y'bitch! Gaargh!

Govstooge: Let's see what it is. Ooh, Buckfast. Reminds me of college. Shame it's been in the gob of someone who reeks of wee. But I think there's a drain around the back that needs unblocking. Next time can you bring in some Dutch Gold so we can at least share them? There's a good chap.

Might be fun, now that I think of it.

The Uncivil Unseen PMDS

Ok, now that no-one's going to see my interim review reports this year, I might as well have some fun with them.

Edited highlights as follows:

The Unseen PMDS reports

CO No. 1

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

What can I say? Simply super. If there was such a thing as the Golden Clerical Officer Award, this person would win hands down. A shining example to all COs.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

Try not to put so many raisins in the cakes you bake. They give me the squits.

CO No. 2

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

Average. Overall organisational skills poor.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

For god’s sake, can’t you just take half an hour out and clean your fucking desk? There is a limit to the number of flies and dead mice we can tolerate in a workplace. How the fuck do you even find anything? How do I even know you’re at work behind all that lot?

CO No. 3

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

Adequate. Very pleasant demeanour among colleagues and members of the public alike.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

Co-operation with management would be appreciated. Don’t you think the voodoo doll of me under your keyboard is unnecessary? Ouch.

CO No. 4

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

Completely useless. If I had my way I would give you your P45, rip your arms off and beat you to death with the wet end and leave your remains to the mercy of the starving feral cats behind the canteen. I have to check up on you more times a day than a middle-aged man with prostatic hypertrophy has to go to the toilet.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

Actually doing something would help. Curbing the number of times you phone friends from work and access your Bebo page (how old are you?!?) is a start. Also, not standing around in the corridors with other slackers bitching about your manager is recommended. I will assist you in all of these by ripping the comms cables out of your PC and phone and tying you to the chair with them.

CO No. 5

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

Unsure. Employee is frequently out sick.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

At least TRY to remember what your job is. Having to conduct on the job training, induction and introductions every time you’re in work is tiresome for me and has an impact on my own workload.

CO No. 6

Manager’s Comment on Overall Performance

Good but very tentative about coming forward with problems.

What (if any) improvements in performance are needed?

Try not to be so scared of me. I don’t bite. Except on Mondays.

The Great Defectors

My team of amiable and only occasionally annoying Clerical Officers have informed me that their Union, the Civil and Public Services Union are staging an embargo on co-operating with the PMDS system, as a protest against the various cuts that have been inflicted on us in recent months.

The Department of Finance has issued a warning in which salary increments may not be paid to members if they refuse to co-operate with the PMDS process. I'm glad that I agreed all role profile forms for 2009 long before all this with everyone, so that they won't lose out for this year. But there's very little else that I can do apart from that.

I mean, I can't start drafting any Interim Review Forms. Ah, Interim Review forms. My staff have been very clear on the matter.

"We're not doing PMDS anymore!" they jeered at me, with tongues extended, blowing raspberries.

"Oh yeah?" I retorted. "I'm really sorry to hear that. Do you realise how much I love writing up all those interim review forms? And Annual Review forms? I mean, my whole YEAR revolved around filling those things up. What is the purpose of my existence now? Was my existence not solely to fill out forms about key performance indicators and critical success factors? What do I do now? Am I adrift in a sea of blank forms?"

I've no doubt it will come back to haunt me and all the other EOs up and down the country who would normally be carrying out interim reviews in the coming weeks.

I'm just going to concentrate on my other work (for there is no shortage of that, either) and let the rest of them battle it out. I hope it all works out in the end.

The Great Paper Chase

Christ, what a week it's been. It's been one long marathon of alternate annual review forms and meetings and drafting new role profile forms for 2009. I have been buried in paper. The paperwork with these things is UNREAL. The clerical officers were grand though, none of them made any additional work for me. Bless them all.

The meetings varied in length from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on how the private audience with the manager was valued by the clerical officer, or how scared they were that the EO might swear at them.

I had to schedule a lot of meetings for early in the morning, a time when I'm not at my best (see OED definition for Uncaffeinated Troglodyte), however several other EOs and HEOs beat me to the meeting rooms for the afternoon slots.

I even had some bastard nick the room which I had legitimately booked at one stage. I didn't protest, because I thought this might happen:

Govstooge: Here, I had this room booked for 3.30!
Other EO: Whoops, sorry Govstooge, but we won't be long. Can you give us half an hour?
Govstooge: For fuck's sake, I go for my COFFEE at four!

So I ended up having to do the review in a quiet-ish corner of the canteen. Over coffee, naturellement. Still not ideal when the canteen staff were dropping things that go CLANG and the HEO with the incredibly evil laugh kept overshadowing the proceedings. And other members of my staff, seated a safe distance away, kept glancing over to look at our facial expressions, to gauge where on the five point scale their colleague was going to come.

Sometimes I think what it must be like for the clerical officers. Most of them are older than me. Some of them even have adult children older than me. And, to make matters worse, I am one of those people who still occasionally gets asked for ID when doing a beer run. Some of them don't give a shite and happily sign the forms. The others think it's all bullshit, but sign the forms anyway, anything to get them out of the way. And I don't even have to bring in a gun.

My own review, now that's a story for another day.

I'm glad it's all over now though. Did I mention I had several other shitty things to be getting on with?

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

I've had to wash my mouth out today. Not surprising, the regular reader would think, considering the frequent bursts of staccato expletives that issue from me almost constantly. Maybe my HEO called me aside to tell me that I was upsetting the rest of the section.

Not quite.

Today I conducted PMDS Annual reviews with a number of people. I was organised, professional and courteous throughout each meeting. In short, very manager-like.

So where did the swearing come in?

It didn't.

Today in the meetings I used phrases - unconsciously I might add - that included:

"Going Forward"
"Across the Board"
"Sweeping Changes"
"Singing off the same Hymn Sheet"

Fuckityfuckityfuck! HEO-speak on an EO salary! Uhurrrgh! I'm turning into one of them!

I'm off to the church now to seek absolution before what remains of my soul is gone forever.

Bleargh.

... well, at least I didn't use "Touch Base". I fucking hate that one.

My week ahead...

In graphical form.



Unfortunately, as I am already overloaded, I can only estimate the number of staff I have to review. The number of drinks needed, however, is correct.

And it's not because of the people I'm reviewing. They're grand. It's just me and the form filling and trying to be serious even if they couldn't care either way.

PMDS. Oh god, why can't it go away?

Performance, Underperformance and Unpronounceable Songs

PMDS is making the news a lot in the last couple of weeks. Crazy eh? It's not as if they're short on news stories what with recession, U-turns, more recession, more U-turns and Barack Obama's historic victory in the polls. Well done Mr Obama. Mind you, his opponent did look like this:


I used to do that behind teachers' backs when I was 12! And he's 72!

But back to PMDS in the news...
It was recently revealed in the Sunday Times that almost 100% of all civil servants were awarded increments this year - increments that have been, for the past couple of years, linked to their PMDS ranking; i.e. 2 or more. 18 civil servants, at grade 1, were not awarded the increase.

Grade 2s, remember, are still underperforming to a certain extent. They are not allowed go for promotion for a year. That's the only penalty imposed on them. I imagine many of them don't care about promotions or additional responsibility. And they get the same pay award as me, and others like me, who are working our fucking arses off. It suggests to me that if I take even longer tea breaks, do Sudoku all day at my desk and pull all the uncertified sickies I can, I will be appreciated just the same by the system.

What did those 18 people do (or not do) to score a "1" then? It must have been bloody awful. I can only imagine:

- Setting fire to their desks and toasting marshmallows in the flames
- Calling the Taoiseach a "pie-faced goon" to his face
- Telling management to fuck off
- Phone calls to their sister in Australia lasting all day
- Abseiling past the boardroom window during senior management meetings
- Doing awful Karaoke at the Christmas Do
- Sewing whoopee cushions into the HEO's chair
- Drinking in the office and throwing up on senior officers
- Excessive smelly bodily functions in the vicinity of colleagues
- Humping the EO's leg
- Streaking through the Personnel Department (i.e. without an ID badge on)
- Making origami sculptures with forms

The reality is probably even more disturbing than that.

It calls into serious question the operation of the PMDS across all Departments. Only a couple of years into it, and it's already crying out for reform.

With any luck, they might get rid of it all together, and replace the endless meetings and arguments with something simpler like "RatemyClericalOfficers.com" - etc. Well, if teachers can have it, why can't we?

Oh, and I've recently discovered Sigur Rós. I don't have a notion of what they're singing about - as it's all in Icelandic - but their music transcends the language barriers. They're divine, and I can't stop listening to them. Going to buy even more of their albums when my increment comes in. (Which it will, I'm more than 99% certain.)

----------------
Now playing: Sigur Ros - Med Sud I Eyrum Endalaust - 07. Ara Batur
via FoxyTunes

The Birth of PMDS

‘Twas December, and Bertie Augustus did issue a decree that there would be a Census taken, and all the people would have to go to Dublin to be registered, because the CSO had exploded in a freak accident and all the census forms were destroyed.

So the senior civil servants travelled the short distance to the Department of the Taoiseach, to register themselves. Among them was one who was heavy with cakes, having eaten too many at the staff Christmas party.

This man, once he had signed his form, felt a rumbling in his stomach and thought: “Oh shit, I think I need to do a poo.” But the toilets at the Department were all full, with politicians regurgitating the excesses of the celebrations of their pay rises. So this poor burdened bureaucrat was forced to check into the nearest five-star hotel (on expenses, of course) where he could relieve himself of his heavy load.

Grunting and straining on the diamond encrusted marble jacks in his suite, the senior civil servant gave birth to a monstrosity. It was a pile of shit so large, that he had to run into the corridor shouting “come and look” to one and all. And come they did; porters, chambermaids, barmen, drunk politicians; one and all came to admire the magnificent creation. Three fuckin’ eejits walking past the hotel saw the stink waves emanating from the windows of the penthouse suite, and they followed the smell, and they too came to have a look. The fuckin’ eejits brought gifts of toilet paper, air freshener and a plunger.

The senior civil servant, breathless from his exertions, announced to the crowd “Behold my magnificent creation. I have decided that it will be of benefit to all civil servants. From now on every Christmas, all civil servants will have to endure the process I have just completed. In a metaphorical sense of course. Not all people have my capacity for cakes and gut-busting turds. No, I have decided that all civil servants will be subjected to pointless forms and chats with their bosses at this time of year. It will be just as excruciating and painful as what I have just done. I will call it PMDS - short for Pretty Meaningless Dreadful Shit."

And so, PMDS began. And people learnt to take it seriously, as it's linked to our pay awards. God Damn us every one!!

The Annual Review

Things I'd like to write about people in their Annual Review...

(This has been stolen from Impact trade union's magazine, "The Record" of December 2005)

"Upward Feedback me Arse"

Since my last report, this employee has reached rock bottom and has started to dig.

I would not allow this employee to breed.

This employee is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a definite won’t-be.

Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat in a trap.

When she opens her mouth, it seem that it is only to change feet.

This young lady has delusions of adequacy.

He set low personal standards and constantly fails to achieve them.

This employee is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.

This employee should go far and the sooner he starts, the better.

Got a full six pack, but lacks the plastic thingy that holds it all together.

A gross ignoramus - 144 times worse than an ordinary ignoramus.

He doesn’t have ulcers but he’s a carrier.

I would like to go hunting with him sometime.

He’s been working with glue to much.

He would argue with a signpost.

He brings a lot of joy when he leaves the room.

When his I.Q. reaches 50 he should sell.

If you see two people talking and one looks bored, he’s the other one.

A photographic memory but with the lens cover glued on.

A prime candidate for natural de-selection.

Donated his brain to science before he was done using it.

Gates are down, lights are flashing , but the train isn’t coming.

He’s got two brain cells, one is lost and the other is out looking for it.

If he were any more stupid, he’d have to be watered twice a week.

If you gave him a penny for his thoughts you’d get change.

If you stand close enough to him, you’ll hear the ocean.

It’s hard to believe he beat out 1,000,000 other sperm.

One neutron short of a synapse.

Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, he only gargled.

Takes him two hours to watch 60-minutes.

The wheel is turning but the hamster is dead.

Got into the gene pool when the lifeguard wasn’t looking.


And my own personal favourite:

"Someone peed in his mother."

Christmas...

It's the countdown to Christmas! 8 days to go! WooHoo!

Yeah, right.

C*ntdown more like it.

I have to get all the annual reviews for my COs done by the end of this week, god damn it fucking bastard shite.

I'm sure the reviews will turn up some funny stories, so watch this space.

Performance rating in the Civil Service and why it's a big pile of shite

I hate the whole process of performance rating.

I don't disagree with it on principle, I think it's a good thing in theory, especially when you have the right to tell your manager about any problems you have with them, and they have to listen (a process called upward feedback), but the practice is very different.

Why I hate it:
Reviews etc tend to have impossible deadlines set by senior management, usually around peak work times in my area. And I supervise quite a few clerical staff, and must meet individually with all of them, amidst doing our other work.

A quiet, private space to discuss things is a must. Not having your own office is a serious disadvantage, and the number of meeting rooms is rapidly declining to make more large offices for senior management. Grrr. So if someone else has booked the meeting rooms that are left, you have to wander the corridors like a besuited hobo for a vacant AP's office to use.

Managers don't always listen to the upward feedback you give them. Mine didn't listen to the complaint I made about "pestering me with stuff that isn't even relevant to my area, particularly when I'm busy, makes me want to scream." I listened to my staff's upward feedback. It wasn't a critique of me, they were expressing their dissatisfaction with the HEO and the AP's management styles through me - the "proper" chain of command. I'm not sure what I can do about it, but I wrote the comments down and filed them for future reference. And I will use them. I'm still idealistic enough to think that I can help to change how things are done in my area.

Alternatively, I could just sit back and do nothing. I would still get paid. But I would lose the respect and adulation my clerical officers hold me in. They would stop buying me coffees laced with alcohol and giving me shoulder massages while I labour over complicated documents. Also to go would be the CO standing behind me with a giant fan on hot days. And the one keeping the toilet seat in my favourite stall warm on cold winter mornings.

It's a hard life.

Govstooge's Handy Guide to Performance Rating in the Irish Civil Service

You may have come across the term "PMDS" in previous posts, and wondered, what does it all mean?

Well, wonder no more, for here it is, at last.

PMDS (Performance Management and Development System) is a mechanism by which all civil servants receive performance appraisals. It was introduced long before I became a civil servant, and only recently has it been linked to our pay awards.

It is an annual cycle, comprising three stages, all of which involve filling out forms and discussing them with your supervisor. It gives your supervisor something to do, apart from looking up porn or the latest deals on lastminute.com.

The stages are:
1. Role Profile Form - fancy name for job description for the year ahead. Gives a list of measurable objectives and critical success factors (ie, stuff to fall back on if you need to cover your arse). Training needs also identified (my request for piano lessons was, sadly, turned down last January).
2. Interim Review - Usually around June, just to discuss progress so far.
3. Annual Performance and Development Review (APDR) - This is the big one, usually around Christmas. Your supervisor will assign you a rating on a scale of one to five based on your performance in the past year. If you disagree with this, you can refer it up to the reviewer, usually your supervisor's supervisor.

Here is my cut out and keep guide to the ratings system (click to enlarge, if you really want to):

Oh go on. Click it, it likes to be touched.




And if you're wondering, I got a "3" in my last APDR. WooHoo!

Who's the Boss?

This power thing is going to my head.

Earlier today, I very nearly submitted a PMDS report on one of my staff that went thusly:

COMMENT ON OVERALL PERFORMANCE
"This employee single handedly destroyed a stack of completed KRAP13 forms simply by farting on them. We then had to resend them and endure countless abusive phone calls from members of the public demanding to know why they had to go to the trouble of signing their names all over again and why the government employs such useless twats."

COMMENT ON IMPROVING PERFORMANCE
"A large cork inserted firmly in this employee's anus should prevent further damages."

Just before I signed off on it, I realised what I'd written, deleted it and wrote something very, very boring instead.

Feck, maybe I should have submitted it. Nobody reads those reports anyway.

The Interim Review

I had my interim review with my HEO last week. I had to sit with him in a room for quite some time to discuss my progress. So far I'm coping OK with having to do some work during the past few weeks, and I'm squaring up nicely for the challenges ahead. Some problems were highlighted, like my complete laxity in relation to the management of my own staff. Seemingly I'm not shouting at them enough, or kicking them up the arse sufficiently well to motivate them.

This was my first interim review as an EO, as I have only been doing this for a year. However, I decided at the annual review stage six months ago that I hated these things. The reason being - I have more private sector experience than I do public sector experience. The only time you would sit in a room with your boss would be if they were tearing strips off you - and even though this hasn't happened to me as a civil servant, I still cower when I have to go through these things. And I breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over, relief that my dignity remained undented, that my skin was still intact, and that I did not at any time feel an urge to stab my HEO in the eye with a letter opener.

Another reason why I hate them is, as a manager myself, I have to review my staff's performance. They're all there a lot longer than I have been. What I need is a team of fresh-faced 18 year old clerical officers that I can intimidate and terrify by screaming at them and waving my hands about in a menacing fashion. That approach won't wash with the ones I've got now, they're far too experienced at these things. Feck.

The interim and annual reviews are a form of structured performance appraisal, and one of the fun things you can do is give your boss some "upward feedback" about how you feel you are being managed. So you can tell your boss that they suck and they have to listen.

It will be interesting to see what my lot have to say to me at their own reviews in the coming days.

MEMO TO SELF: Bring a big plank with six inch rusty nails sticking out of it to work this week.