Billy, don’t be an EO

Not that the civil service is hiring at the moment or anything, but seriously, who would want this job?

Being securely ensconced in paid employment at the moment is providing little consolation to me right now.

The disquiet coincided with the advent of a new boss, to whom I will attach the title of “Hexecutive” a rather apt contraction of “Higher Executive Officer”. The Hexecutive arrived in the Department of Pedantry, fresh from a rather important assignment in another Department, to find herself, in conjunction with our existing HEO, sharing control of our not-so-important unit, which has yet again been restructured.

I, as the least grey of the incumbent EOs, have been targeted by the Hexecutive to be her personal guide through the workings of the unit, given my aptitude for remembering where things are, how things work and general all-round efficiency not yet stifled by twenty years’ stagnation at the top of a pay scale. Not yet.

The Hexecutive has entered the unit with all guns blazing, criticising our work processes – many of which were inherited from other units during the restructuring – and making sweeping changes. As the first to agree that a new outlook is often beneficial, I usually welcome changes, however when changes are made to my work process without my knowledge, it’s not long before steam starts coming out of my ears.

Hexecutive: Govstooge, why have you filed these GQUIFHQF-7700 forms under “Existential Anguish”?
Govstooge: That’s where they’ve always been filed. Look, it says so in Page 988 of the Unit Manual.
Hexecutive: No, they should now be filed under “General Ennui and Despair.”
Govstooge: Oh. Fair enough, but I wasn’t told. Should the PQIOQPROQKOJF-7797727 forms also be filed under “General Ennui and Despair?”
Hexecutive: No, I’ve made a new category for those, they’re now under “Despondency”.
Govstooge: Super (!) And does "Despondency" now replace the categories of "Torpor" and "Languor"?
Hexecutive: Don't be silly, why would they?
Govstooge: Fuck knows. I don't know what the hell is going on around here anymore. Call me when you've sorted it out.

The other EOs look at each other over their copies of The Irish Times, Take a Cake and Incontinent Functionary Weekly and thank God or whatever fusty grey deity they pray to that they have, so far, escaped the Hexecutive. Their turn will come, oh yes. Because one day, this turbo-charged HEO is going to have them in her sights, and, thinking, "What exactly do they do?"

There has to be a more efficient way of completing the Pimplex crossword, after all.

Bin Dun (For)

Yesterday's capture of Al-Quaeda leader, Osama Bin Laden made me think. Not about what a great, albeit symbolic victory for the US and some small consolation to the families of the victims of the September 11th attacks. Or about the Navy Seals' persistence and courage in the pursuit of their mission.

Nope. I'm bloody fascinated with those little cameras they had on their helmets to relay images via satellite back to Obama and Hillary et al in Washington. Where can I get one of those? I can see infinite uses for it in a civilian (that is to say, a civil servant) context.

1. Imagine, if you will, an EO giving a performance review to a CO. The CO's performance has been piss-poor and as a result the review is not a good one. As the EO looks downwards to sign off the form, the CO makes the most horrible faces and sticks out their tongue at the top of the EO's head. One of those army camera thingies would capture this, and enable the EO to subject the CO to further criticism along with a spot of waterboarding, if the EO is feeling generous. In the case of a hostile CO, camera WITH helmet would be advisable.

2. Surreptitiously attach one to Nosher's clothing. In order that the eternal tea break debate "Can he stand up to wee with that big belly hanging down over his willy, or does he sit down in a trap like a girl?" can finally be resolved.

3. Leave one in the toilets. Not for pervy reasons, just to finally catch the dirty bastard who's been crapping in the sink. Also for use in the Ladies', in order to determine who's been sticking used sanitary towels to the wall. They don't deserve jobs!

4. Attach one to the table that the Trappist EO normally sits at in the canteen. Just what is that mystery meat in his sandwiches? I've a bet on that it's squirrel. Or possibly badger roadkill. A more conservative conjecture is that it's grey ham from just before closing time at the supermarket.

I could then have my very own YouTube channel, featuring all this and more!

USA forever! (As in Unfriendly Spying Apparatus)

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!

Blogorrhea!

I wandered into work today at 10am, much later than usual, because I simply couldn't have been arsed getting up earlier. What I gained in sleep this morning was negated by the annoyance I suffered within two minutes of hanging up my coat.

"Govstooge", said the HEO bounding over to me.
Oh Jaysus, I think.
"What is the ETA on the current project you are working on? Remember to touch base with me if you've any problems... are you OK?"
"Yeah, my stomach just sort of...flipped when you said 'touch base'."
"Oh right. Well, usually some antacids help with that. Get some in case you need them going forward."
I look balefully at the departing figure of the HEO.
"Bleargh!" is my only response.

Two minutes later, my extension rings. I manage to resist the temptation to retch following my manager's management speak.

It is a colleague in another Department.

"Govstooge, can you do something for me?"
"Sure, Morticia. What is it?"
"Well, you know that issue your unit are working on with us?"
"Yeah...sort of. Actually, my HEO deals with that rather than me. Will I put you on...?"
"NO!!!!!!!!!!"
"Oh, right. That was emphatic."
"Sorry, Govstooge. But if I asked your HEO I would be on the phone for two hours and still be none the wiser. All the management speak you see."
"Ah, yes. The old logorrhea, or verbal diahorrea, if you will."
"Anyway, can you pass on this question? Just a quick one. And tell your HEO to contact me by email. Say one of my ears has fallen off due to leprosy or that I've got a terrible fear of curly wires and I can't use the phone."
"Right. Go ahead..."

The things I do for my colleagues. Risking being in the firing line of more management speak so that others may get on with their daily tasks. There should be an award for us unsung civil service heroes.

Even if it was just a shiny new paperclip or something.

New Recruits?

What is it with people bringing their babies into work? Today I had to endure shrieks and cries from the other end of the office along with all the other shit I have to put up with when a colleague brought her little bundle of joy into work.

Oops. I might have made this sound all wrong. Let me clarify.

The shrieks and cries weren't from the baby, who was gurgling peaceably in her carry-cot and smiling angelically at everyone. Aaaw. Bless.

It was the middle aged women who were crowded around who were making all the noise! Women whose voices were never meant for indoors! Women who could have made a living as lumberjacks "Timberrrrrrr!"! Women who have done nixers for the local builders when their angle-grinder broke and they needed something to cut sheet metal with, fast! Now think of a crowd of about ten of them and you've got the picture. Shudder. The ensuing cacophony was deafening!

"OOOH She's just like her MOTHER...!"
"DID YOU SEE THAT, DOREEN, SHE WINKED AT ME!"
"AAAAW AREN'T YOU A LITTLE DOTE!"

Fuck it. Let's just sack these loud middle-aged women and replace them with babies. Even on a bad day, a baby wouldn't make the same amount of noise. In all probability, they smell better as well. And they don't care about benchmarking, strikes, NAMA or Eastenders. All they want is a bottle, a clean nappy and a bunch of keys to keep them happy. Swap forms for keys and we're on a winner.

I think it'll work. With a bit of careful planning, no-one will notice the difference. There'll even be the same amount of drool.

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.

Delaying Tactic

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.

Nice work if you can get it....?

In yesterday's paper we had a report of a civil servant of AP rank in the Department of Defence who was paid €80,000 a year to do nothing except sit on his hole reading the paper. More here.

Has the world gone mad?

Eighty fucking grand? To read the fucking paper? Ah come on now.

I'll do it for forty. No quibbling!

Ok, so there are underlying causes such as harassment which can occur at all levels, and to be fair to him his complaint to his Personnel Officer about being idle went unheeded, but it does raise the question of how many civil servants are sitting doing nothing in single-occupancy offices. Heck, there are many in open-plan areas doing fuck all!

I'm not one of these by the way. I have a wide area of responsibility and rarely get a moment to myself. I'm also not in a position to be idle, given that my desk and computer monitor are visible from a wide area and by many people at any one time. I'm not senior ( by way of rank or tenure) enough to hold the coveted corner desk within my unit which guarantees privacy for the incumbent to surf the net, watch DVDs and follow auctions on eBay. This prime location belongs to a HEO who, funnily enough, likes to delegate a lot of stuff to the EOs. A HEO who's not very fast with the Alt and Tab when I approach with a form to be signed off or a question, so I can usually see what's on the screen, or I can just glance at the task bar. Invariably, it is something completely frivolous. Nice work if you can get it, eh?

It's demoralising for those of us in the lower ranks who are not afforded these luxuries of time and optimum accommodation, and who actually do stuff.

But it's not restricted to the public sector, might I add. I had a manager in the private sector who used to spend hours on the boardroom phone talking to her daughter in New Zealand. On company time, at company expense. She was never taken to task about it. I think the bandages on the Managing Director's head had something to do with that.

I've said it before, in hierarchical organisations the higher up you go the less you have to do. So Bord Snip and dear old Lenno would do well to focus on many of the useless layers of middle and senior management when considering how to make cuts. Fuck it, the EOs and SOs run the bloody places anyway!

P.S. I'm not at work right now by the way!

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.

DepartMental Memo

Department of Squeaky Doors

CONFIDENTIAL

To: All Lower Level Managers
From: Uber Senior Manager-in-Chief


It has been observed by those of us in the Ivory Tower (i.e. Senior Management floor) that many of you lower level plebs aren't doing your jobs properly, as there have been repeated incidents of extended watercooler chatting among the lower orders. This is detracting from the real work; in a time of recession we must be seen to be doing stuff. What if an external contractor were to come in to dust the forms and saw that and went out into the big bad world and tell their friends what we were up to in our nice civil service building?

So, in order to redress this problem, we are removing all watercoolers from use with immediate effect. There will now only be watercoolers in Senior Management offices dispensing Perrier, Cristal Champagne and liquid MDMA.

Please inform your staff that should they feel the need for liquid refreshment, there is water available on the roof. Or, alternately, they might adopt the practice of drinking their own wee-wee. Apparently there are health benefits to be had from this (Please contact the Employee Assistance Officer for further details). We don't know. We haven't tried it.

You should sell the additional obvious benefit of water conservation in the office to them as well, since they will no longer need to flush toilets. If this becomes a widespread practice, we might close the toilets altogether and this will facilitate new shiny offices for senior management without the need for a costly extension to the building.

Thank you for your co-operation.

Springtime...

...For Hitler (from The Producers - the original one!) was all I could find when trawling Limewire for recordings of Nazi marching songs to get me in the mood for bollocking some COs at work. It doesn't set the correct tone somehow I think. (But it is very funny.)

Well, as I gleaned today from a circular, there is going to be a freeze on all recruitment and promotions until the end of 2010. That means I'm stuck as an EO for another two years, roughly (yes, though I might moan about HEOs a lot, I would never refuse a HEO pay packet). So I'd better start taking this EO malarkey a bit more seriously. Especially now that there isn't a ponderous deadline hovering over me and I now have no excuse to keep ignoring my staff.

As a consequence, I've started to notice things aren't quite as they should be.

I have my noisy CO (see the previous post) - a trial all of its own. And shoving a gobstopper in the CO's mouth wouldn't solve anything, it would merely result in incessant slurpy sucky sounds, which turn my stomach. I have requisitioned a large industrial type stapler from supplies, but with the cutbacks, I'm not holding out much hope. Glue may be my only recourse.

I also have my slacker CO. Whose desk is in such a position that I can't creep up behind them to see what's on their computer monitor. Slacker likes to shoot the breeze with Noisy and might also merit glue on occasion. Slacker will do anything but work. If there is a training course on advanced phytomechanics (I don't know if such a discipline exists, but it sounds impressive) Slacker's name will be on the booking sheet. Just to get away from the actual job and all the forms. Slacker will leave the section - ostensibly to go to the toilet, but if I happen to walk down the corridor ten minutes later I will invariably find Slacker deep in conversation with another slacker. A rap on the knuckles is coming, and it's coming fast. I've already been in touch with the local ironmonger's re manufacturing a set of manacles with a chain that I can attach to the desk to ensure the work is done, and above all, that I don't look bad to my own superiors.

Those are the folk who deserve a bollocking. Slightly annoying, and not in line for any sort of dressing down, are the following:

The very very quiet people. People who just get on with what they've been asked to do quietly and without complaint. I love them. They don't cause me any headaches. But sometimes quietness might actually be reticence... for example, in a PMDS meeting:

Govstooge: So, any upward feedback? Be as scathing as you like.
CO: No, I'm happy enough.
Govstooge: That's great, but if something was wrong you'd let me know, right?
CO: Well.... actually... now that you mention it...
Meeting lasts half an hour longer than it's supposed to while the CO outlines their problems.

I still love them though. They make me look good.

And the hypochondriacs.

A CO rings in sick:

CO: Yeah, I'm going to the doctor later. I've got the shits real bad. And there was blood in it. I might have to give a sample to the hospital. I hope it's not anything more serious. I know someone who had bowel cancer you know. And they had a septic toe. Come to think of it, one of my toes is sort of tingling right now. I had athlete's foot last month. God. It stank. I left my sock out of the wash once by accident and when I found it a couple of days later it had three Portobello mushrooms growing on it.
Govstooge: Bleargh!
CO: They went very nice in my risotto... Govstooge? Are you still there?

I really need a new job. But where can I go? Plus, as a civil servant of a few years' standing, I am now totally unemployable elsewhere, and stuck at my current level for the foreseeable future.

I did something terrible in a past life, and this is now the karmic consequence.

Maybe I was Hitler's marching music composer.

The Board Room

Meetings suck. I've gone on about them before. They're a great way of wasting time. And they're also a useful forum for managers to show off their command of Management Speak.

A language as obscure as Ancient Etruscan.

I'm generally to the point in plain English at meetings. I present facts and figures as they are and don't feel the need to build a narrative around them.

Today, in a meeting involving a certain degree of planning, I heard the phrases: "These will book-end the central issue" and "That should dovetail nicely with the earlier proposal".

Jesus.

When I asked if we needed to bring saws and hammers to the boardroom for our next meeting - because I thought we would be doing some basic woodwork (and making some useful things for the house), I was met with stony silence.

I think I'll bring them in anyway. Sandpapering a HEO's arse with weapons-grade sandpaper has always been a fantasy of mine.

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.

The First Civil Service Law of Physics

The work-related velocity of a middle manager is directly proportionate to the relative proximity of a senior manager.

Discovered this the other day. I never saw a HEO move so quickly as at the moment a senior manager entered the room.

The Second Civil Service Law of Physics governs the chain-reaction like activity which immediately follows the departure of the senior manager. Middle-manager energy is volatile due to their almost permanent state of inertia so must be diffused down the line as quickly as possible to prevent a dangerous explosion.

I also discovered this the other day, five minutes after my discovery of the first; I was approached by the HEO who said "I need this done, immediately!"

I'd write formulae for these except I'm utterly shit at physics.

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?

Double Standards

One rule for them and one rule for the rest of us, or "Do as I say and not as I do". It occurs in all walks of life, whether in school, home, private sector, civil service etc.

Today's incident, however, took the fucking biscuit. It was both flagrant and egregious.

Picture the scene. A meeting for the whole section in a conference room, which the HEO has convened. The COs are rolling their eyes in boredom and looking at the malfunctioning clock hanging lopsided on the wall. One CO is visibly drooling. Another may have died. The EOs are sitting with their arms folded, resolutely avoiding eye contact with the HEO who might just ask them if they would like to add something to what was just said. One particular EO just wants to get the hell out of there and find the coffee machine. (Can you tell who it is yet?)

Suddenly, a strange buzzing sound. What could that be? Is it a fire drill? Ah, no, it can't be. They only do fire drills on nice sunny days so people don't get wet waiting to go back inside. We can't have people going on sickies claiming they caught a chill.

There is a scuffle of activity from the head of the table. The HEO leaps from their seat, mobile phone in hand (for yes, that is the source of the buzzing), and sprints to the door. The rest of the attendees glance around at each other with expressions of bemusement. There is silence as we try to determine the nature of the boss's conversation from what we can hear through the door.

Some minutes pass, and the HEO re-appears with a sheepish expression and says: "Errr.... sorry about that. I had to take that call."

The meeting breaks up shortly afterwards. The main item on the agenda - i.e. "Inappropriate Use of Mobile Phones During Office Hours" didn't go down too well.

Has to be up there as the most pointless bloody meeting ever.

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.

The most awful image...

I have a very strong tolerance of disgusting things. I can watch gory episodes of ER while munching on spaghetti bolognese, or discuss embarrassing bowel conditions over a leisurely lunch. I am a big fan of Peter Jackson films (in his pre-Lord of the Rings days - Brain Dead, Bad Taste, anyone? Rent them, see what I mean). I have a very scatological sense of humour and few conversation topics have the capacity to put me off my food.

Today, I discovered my Achilles heel.

During tea break, a conversation arose between some colleagues about why the HEO was late this morning.

"A chance conversation with a passing AP?"
"A quick cup of coffee?"
"One of the children vomited all over the house?"

And...
"Having a shit?"

At which point I spat my chocolate croissant out and roared "For fuck's sake, I do NOT want to think about a HEO sitting on a toilet while I'm having my tea!!"

Exploding brains, zombies being chopped up with lawnmowers and melting heads, yes.

A Higher Executive Officer pinching a loaf, definitely not.

Bleargh.

Govstooge's Law of Crapness

The number of staff assigned to a manager is inversely proportionate to the number of times the manager is likely to get them all together at the same time to tell them stuff.

I've discovered this to my detriment, as I can't remember who I told what to or when.

This makes me look shit in front of the real managers.

Bleurgh.