For Whom the Bell Tolls

Downtime's a bitch. After several weeks of frenetic activity in my unit, there is now a brief period of a couple of weeks to get my breath back before I start all over again. The Hexecutive has seen to it that the work allocation per EO in the unit is staggered, so we all get a crazy few weeks and a bit of brief respite. (This is new to me, as the only staggering this EO had ever done prior to this was out of the pub on a Saturday night.)

I don't like when it's my turn for downtime. I find it very difficult to revert to the customary plodding pace of the stereotypical bureaucrat after having rushed around like a maniac for an extended period. It's the equivalent of grinding abruptly to a halt after a run, instead of warming down gradually. (I know. I fucked my knees up once doing this.)

To alleviate the tedium, I invent 'work' for myself. Learning new software programs, that is, or swotting up on legislation, policy documents, cornflakes boxes, anything I find lying around. I'm being good, because I want a good stab at HEO the next time there's a vacancy. (No, I don't want to actually stab a HEO, except, maybe...on occasion... sometimes... the Hexecutive.)

Fairly soon, I'm in my own little world of personal development. My colleagues are rushing around, just like I had been earlier, and, for once, I do not envy them their meetings and conference calls. Until, that is, their phones start ringing. Often I'm alone in the office during my downtime and find myself picking up other people's extensions and taking messages. I can do this remotely from my desk, which is handy, as if I had to sit at Nosher's desk and use his phone, I might have to be cut free from all the sticky jam which covers everything within his arm span before I can get up again. 

So it begins:

"Hi, is Nosher there? He hasn't called Buns-r-Us for his doughnut order this morning, and we've extra staff on to handle the job, I'll have to send them home again if we don't get it."

"... ... ... ..." Silent phone call. I leave a message for the Trappist EO. 

"Hello? Morticia?"
"No, sorry, Morticia retired / died / something or other in 2010."
"Oh. What are you wearing, you little minx?"

"Is my mum there?"
"No. I'm afraid not, she's at a meeting."
"Oh. Ok."
Five minutes later: 
"Is my mum there?"
"No. I'm afraid not, she's at a meeting."
"Oh. Ok."
Five minutes later: 
"Is my mum there?"
"No. I'm afraid not, there has been a terrible accident. The corridor to the Boardroom has become engulfed in flames, and the Fire Brigade are held up in traffic, and there's been a chemical spill in the carpark... and...OH NOOOOOO!  ZOMBIES! Run away! Run awaaaAAAAHHHHH!"
"Oh. Ok."

"Hello, could I speak to Francis, please?"
"No, I'm sorry, he won't be back for an hour. Would you like to leave a message?"
"This is the Larry Bang show on FUFM. He has just won a case of the finest wines available to humanity."
"Aah! I see! I do apologise, actually that's me. Frances. With an E. Yahoo. I won those. Can you ship them to Ballyfuck? Now?"

When my colleagues return, they find their computer monitors festooned with badly scrawled sticky notes and I must spend another hour translating for them as my handwriting's bloody awful. By the time I've finished, it's almost time for my busy period.

But not before a stern talking to by the HEO re an upset eight year old who thinks her mother's been eaten by revenants. Some people have no sense of humour. 

Normal Service Resumed

Ah-ha! I just knew it!

I couldn't possibly have been full of the joys of life forever more and have nothing to rant about!

And no, it's not the fact that those nudie paintings of our revered (ha!)yet corpulent Taoiseach put me off my breakfast this morning. That, I have to say, was pretty fecking disgusting in itself.

What really put a dampener on the recent bonhomie in the Department this morning was one of my louder colleagues coming to work in a bad humour. Now I am not judging anyone for being in bad humour. I am prone to moodiness and downright gloominess myself at times. I keep it to myself, and the only discernible difference obvious to those who work with me is that I'm quieter than normal.

Well, just think of the opposite of that. A person who is loud to begin with, coming to work with a foul temper, ranting about everything in sight- sometimes unintelligibly - and turning the volume up a few notches. I can't help but have an adverse reaction to it. Especially when it coincides with some very important work that I am engaged on.

First it starts off:
Colleague: Rant rant rant blah blah
Govstooge: Jesus. I can tell it's going to be a long day.

A few minutes later:

Colleague: Rant rant rant rant
Govstooge: I don't agree with that.
Colleague: Well I do. Rant rant rant rant rant rant.

Half an hour later:
Colleague: Rant rant rant rant
Govstooge: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! WOULD YOU EVER SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE THE REST OF US WHO HAVE A JOB TO DO IN PEACE!!!!!!!!!
Colleague: Oops someone got on the wrong side of the bed this morning!
Govstooge: !!!?????

A short time later, my colleague's temper has moderated and it's time to offer the olive branch.

Colleague: Govstooge, want to see something funny?....Govstooge? Can you hear me? Look at this, it's funny. You'll like it.
Govstooge (not looking up): I have absolutely zero interest in what you've got on your head or shoved up your left nostril. If you've got nothing better to do I can find you some work. Lots ot it.
Colleague: Humph.

The upshot of this is that my colleague now knows that a line has been crossed by pissing the EO off to the point of shouting, and they say no more.

And I could get on with my work, silently chuckling to myself. Nothing my colleague could have done could have amused me more than scaring them into silence. And this in itself is enough to diffuse any irritation that I might have been feeling up to then.

And tomorrow, I will keep up the affronted act for a little while longer. It might just get me a cake.

Revenge is sweet.

This job is great!

I'm starting, for the first time in 3 years, to enjoy this EO role. The managerial stuff is coming far more easily for me now.

I told a clerical officer today that "I'm allowed to slag you off. I'm an EO and you are here for my amusement and diversion."

Tomorrow I'm looking forward to bollocking another CO for disappearing for ages when they're clocked in. I've got one of those leg tags the police use for criminals under house arrest, and I'm going to clamp it to their ankle. Or I could just staple the CO to the chair. I haven't decided yet. Maybe the leg tag thing. If the CO had to use the toilet while stapled to their chair, there could be an almighty mess.


Heh heh heh.