<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:40:51.988+01:00</updated><category term='grumblings'/><category term='incentives'/><title type='text'>Diary of a Wage Slave</title><subtitle type='html'>We spend a third of our adult lives at work and yet we still dread Monday mornings. 

This blog details my life as a wage slave trapped in the corporate world of the 21st Century. 

I may pass the aptitude test, but I always fail the interview.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>110</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-2450750291369979887</id><published>2007-05-01T19:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T22:27:59.494+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incentives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grumblings'/><title type='text'>Wednesday - Some Great Reward</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;The company has just presented Short Shouty Bloke with a brand new Mercedes as a bonus for bringing in a large and profitable account. This was news was announced glowingly in today's Company Weekly Bulletin causing Dan to seethe with envy and Gareth to start polishing his Magnum .45.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course there isn't much profit left once we've paid out for all the extra staff to deal with the generated complaints - the customer base for this account being the over 65's, in particular pensioners that would make Victor Meldew seem like a really happy-go-lucky kind of chap - the complaints ratio is effectively 1 to every policy sold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's in addition to the inordinate delays in the business transfer process which isn't even working because this project was all rushed through under the catch-all mantra of 'It's a profitable account' and corners had to be cut and unrealistic deadlines met because 'it was a profitable account.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short Shouty Bloke has zoomed into the sunset in his brand new Merc, happy in the knowledge that he brought in the account within deadline and oblivious to the fact that what he brought in doesn't actually work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But then getting the system to work wouldn't have got him his Merc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the board eventually come looking for someone to blame (clue - it won't be SSB) I'll be hiding under a rock somehwere and I won't come out until the last of the corpses have been buried.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-2450750291369979887?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/2450750291369979887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=2450750291369979887&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2450750291369979887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2450750291369979887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/05/wednesday-some-great-reward.html' title='Wednesday - Some Great Reward'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-2448486868422215788</id><published>2007-05-01T19:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T20:11:22.640+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - The Circle of Strife</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've not blogged for a while but I hope to rectify that situation over the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that I've uncovered the reason for my underlying paranoia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I have been held accountable for all of the faults with the feedback logging system even though I had nothing to do with its development or design. This may have been due to Kate's recommendations for improving the platform which I'd helped her to document.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow between the few months that the &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-all-systems-are-go.html#links"&gt;document detailing improvements &lt;/a&gt;got lost in Anne's vacillation and the auditor visit, my name became irrevocably linked to all of the problems associated with the feedback system instead of the solution that I'd helped to create.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would explain why I'd find myself fending off questions like 'How do you add a second complainent?' as if I was the all-knowing oracle of the application.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As to Kate's original proposal, this re-emerged this week, albeit with a new author on the title page - one of the consultants Diamond Des had brought in to sort out the feedback system problems following the auditor visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Anne and Des are going to launch a project to implement the consultant's recommendations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose if you've paid someone £30,000 just to relay staff suggestions, then you have to justify it really, don't you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-2448486868422215788?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/2448486868422215788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=2448486868422215788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2448486868422215788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2448486868422215788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/05/tuesday-circle-of-strife.html' title='Tuesday - The Circle of Strife'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-359369435653143989</id><published>2007-04-12T07:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T08:15:43.798+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - The Seat of Power</title><content type='html'>Suddenly I'm motivated.  I came into work with a spring in my step anticipating all of the tasks I can complete today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne's off and although I'm loathe to say it, I'm in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I really am the company man that Dave the cheeky cockney geezer claimed I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started off the day playing down my elevated status. I was determined not to be corrupted by power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you in charge then?" Gareth asked sarcastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. No. No. I'm just a glorified milk monitor. Just making sure that any urgent emails sent to Anne are dealt with,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a point of sitting at my own desk and not in Anne's office just to emphasise this. My resistance lasted twenty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted walked by as I switched on her PC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Making yourself at home?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sort of insolence will be noted on his file.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-359369435653143989?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/359369435653143989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=359369435653143989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/359369435653143989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/359369435653143989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/04/wednesday-seat-of-power.html' title='Wednesday - The Seat of Power'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-8073637325534905568</id><published>2007-04-11T07:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T07:26:42.355+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Coma or no Coma?</title><content type='html'>'Life on Mars'. The last ever episode. Discuss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-8073637325534905568?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/8073637325534905568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=8073637325534905568&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8073637325534905568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8073637325534905568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/04/tuesday-coma-or-no-coma.html' title='Tuesday - Coma or no Coma?'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-3343769657062027306</id><published>2007-04-05T20:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T20:34:32.583+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - The Last Resort</title><content type='html'>There is good news and even better news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the Easter Bank Holiday so I'm not back at work until Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Anne is off on holiday for the week I return - hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She beckoned me into her cave and broke the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll forward my emails to you while I'm off," she said instantly inflating my own sense of self-importance, before pricking it with the comment "Jez is also on holiday and I don't want to add to Tracey's stress levels at the moment, so it'll have to be you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-3343769657062027306?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/3343769657062027306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=3343769657062027306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3343769657062027306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3343769657062027306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/04/thursday-last-resort.html' title='Thursday - The Last Resort'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-2405551364461509867</id><published>2007-04-05T08:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T08:15:48.785+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Paranoia</title><content type='html'>I'm getting more and more paranoid. I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm either being blamed for something or someone is saying something behind my back and I can't quite put my finger on it. It's almost got to the stage where I've started to say 'It wasn't me!' whenever anyone asks who was responsible for something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all seemed to have started from a couple emails  that I've already &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/wednesday-fork-in-toaster.html"&gt;blogged about.&lt;/a&gt; I just wish Anne would give me the chance to defend myself and repudiate any accusations. But they won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that no-one is talking about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-2405551364461509867?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/2405551364461509867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=2405551364461509867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2405551364461509867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2405551364461509867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/04/wednesday-paranoia.html' title='Wednesday - Paranoia'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-9071587449678438686</id><published>2007-04-02T19:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T20:30:04.661+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Tea, Ern?</title><content type='html'>When I joined the company all those years ago, part of the induction training focused on the impact of bad service on the reputation of the company.  If you provide a good service, the recipient will tell 1 other person. If you provide a bad service, then statistics indicate that they'll tell 1o people about their experience and possibly even write to 'Watchdog'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if the board understand this, do they understand what sort of impact redundancy has upon the company's reputation amongst its customer base?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was announced that another office was to close today with the loss of 57 jobs. I'm sure that the board would have issued a press release to the stock exchange about 'reducing costs and improving efficiency' blah-de-blah-de-blah! But aren't those 57 staff potential customers as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that they are going to buy the company's products in the future? Do you think they are going to recommend the company's products to their friends and families? I think not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Its only 57 people,' the board might say, however if you remember the induction training statistics the negative impact of this decision will not just swing their purchase decisions but those of their families and friends. So how many customers has the business lost? And if you count up all of the redundancies over the past 10 years - it numbers thousands not hundreds - have the board really improved our operating ratio? No. I think you'll find that in reality they've merely alienated a great number of potential customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how many stock market announcements you make, it means nothing if no-one is buying from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its bad enough that our present crop of customers have to endure long waiting times, advisers that cannot understand them and numerous cock-ups due to the constant movement of work from continent to continent without creating a lifetime of disgruntled customers from within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway my rant is over now. Please accept my apologies. Sometimes I wish my biggest problem could be the same as Dan's or Jo's - how to persuade Ted to get a round of drinks in from the machine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-9071587449678438686?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/9071587449678438686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=9071587449678438686&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/9071587449678438686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/9071587449678438686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/04/monday-tea-ern.html' title='Monday - Tea, Ern?'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-8400140235612108071</id><published>2007-03-28T20:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T20:44:52.493+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Fork in the Toaster</title><content type='html'>I start to worry when certain individuals approach or email me with a simple but unexplained question about working practice, take the answer and then leave without further explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in Point: Anne materialised at my shoulder and then asked. "Luke, how do you log MD complaints on the Feedback log?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I answered, albeit slowly and by careful picking each word of my answer whilst watching for the slightest tic in Anne's enormous puff pastry face that might indicate if I was on the wrong track. I knew the answer but I didn't know if the answer I knew was the answer that Anne wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok" said Anne non-commitally as I'd placed the full-stop at the end of my sentence. She waddled back to her cave to chew over the remains of some temps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within two hours an email from Jez had pinged into my inbox. He simply asked the same question but there was no backstory to his question. Rather than simple fire off a reply, I approached his desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you want to know about the feedback log?" I asked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. Anne just wanted to know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I told her this morning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't know that," Jez said. "Still. I've told her what we do here. How do you deal with them. Just so I can make sure we're doing it right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had nothing to hide, I thought, my confidence growing, perhaps foolishly. I told Jez what I'd already told Anne. After all, both Kate and I had prepared an lengthy suggestion for improving this process, although our &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-all-systems-are-go.html#links"&gt;document&lt;/a&gt; probably now served as bedding in Anne's cave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok," said Jez. "Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I be worried? Sometimes I would be safer probing live electrical items with inappropriate tools than I would be going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least the danger is obvious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-8400140235612108071?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/8400140235612108071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=8400140235612108071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8400140235612108071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8400140235612108071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/wednesday-fork-in-toaster.html' title='Wednesday - Fork in the Toaster'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-825543657193039514</id><published>2007-03-28T06:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T06:49:02.378+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - The Obligatory Flashback Episode</title><content type='html'>I've been writing this blog for a year now and I'm still here! Plodding away with the occasional musing. With uncannily good timing the Sunday Times ran an article about blogs at the weekend and in particular the high number of blog abandonment, the internet is becoming a bit of a blog graveyard. With bloggers giving up the task of recording their own thoughts after just a couple of postings. Apathy will be the internets downfall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You only have to look at my links on the right hand side - Rachel from North London is but a very suspicious 404 not found error, and Shuffling Chunks hasn't resurfaced since Christmas Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose we have to consider why we do this. Am I so arrogant as to believe that anyone is really interested in what is happening in my life? My visitor count would suggest not. For me this is a form of therapy and if you've just stumbled upon this blog and get something out of your visit, then that's a bonus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In true sitcom style I'm going to revisit some of my better postings. Have a read. See what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hey do you remember that time when...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;wibble wibble &lt;/em&gt;wibble screen fade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/friday-bogged-down-by-detail.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Friday - Bogged Down by Detail&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday-pg-rating.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Wednesday - PG Rating&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/tuesday-wax-on-wax-off.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Tuesday - Wax on, wax off&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/tuesday-i-want-it-done-and-i-want-it.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Tuesday - I want it done and I want it done now!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/annes-blog.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Anne's Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/wednesday-greener-grass.html#links"&gt;Diary of a Wage Slave: Wednesday - Greener grass&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. This blog used to be much funnier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-825543657193039514?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/825543657193039514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=825543657193039514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/825543657193039514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/825543657193039514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/tuesday-obligatory-flashback-episode.html' title='Tuesday - The Obligatory Flashback Episode'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-9096988939872651238</id><published>2007-03-26T20:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T20:35:10.664+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Stop the Clocks</title><content type='html'>Summertime began yesterday and with it, the loss of one hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As expected Jo, turned up marginally later than usual, the reason given that she hadn't adjusted her clock so thought it was an hour earlier than it was. She doesn't make my task of defending her easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan suggested that next year, the clocks go forward on a Monday rather than a Sunday,  preferrably at 4PM. I told him I'd put his request to Tony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-9096988939872651238?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/9096988939872651238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=9096988939872651238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/9096988939872651238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/9096988939872651238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/monday-stop-clocks.html' title='Monday - Stop the Clocks'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-4142982793489649206</id><published>2007-03-12T20:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-12T21:16:12.984Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Every Office has 'em</title><content type='html'>If you really want to make yourself popular in your place of work, here are a few pointers that'll bestow the user with the reputation of having a rapier quick, Noel Coward style of wit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) If someone asks you if you want a drink from the drinks machine, tell them that you'd love a whisky or whatever alcoholic beverage takes your fancy. This way you'll be telling your colleagues that not only are you funny, but you're so stressed from working so hard that you're turning to drink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) When someone asks what day it is, inform them that it is (Mon/Tues/Wednes..etc day) and it will continue to be so ALL DAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) If you have some blank wall space, please decorate it with an amusing cartoon of some men, rolling on the floor laughing with the caption 'You want it when?!" underneath. I never fail to raise a little chuckle whenever I see this amusing delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) If you get the opportunity, send a select sample of your colleagues videos of people with fireworks up their arses that you've found on YouTube. Even better, send them a copy of that complaint letter to NTL that has been doing the e-rounds since 1998.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Write 'Happy Birthday' on Wedding Cards and 'Merry Christmas' on Birthday cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do all of these and workplace popularity will be yours. Feel free to add any other suggestions in the comments!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-4142982793489649206?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/4142982793489649206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=4142982793489649206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/4142982793489649206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/4142982793489649206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/monday-every-office-has-em.html' title='Monday - Every Office has &apos;em'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-491865869437875744</id><published>2007-03-08T08:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-15T21:27:24.564Z</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - One of our knive's is missing</title><content type='html'>Another team leader meeting in the board room for added secrecy and away from attentive ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez must be slipping. It took him all of four minutes before he made a crack about Jo. Tracey had booked some holiday - her second already in the year and he'd commented that she was almost away from the office as often as Jo. I did the rightful thing and defended my team member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the past twelve month's Jo has only been ill twice. Which is less than Steve in your team. She's improved a lot since our last little chat," I said, stating absolute facts that negated the reputation that had dogged Jo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez appeared stunned as if I'd just hit him over the head with a giant mallet. But to be honest I've had enough of the snidey character assasinations that were so persistent in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Ted told me when he was my Mr Miyagi for that week last year, if you tell people something is true often enough, eventually they have no choice but to believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To be honest with you," I continued in the meeting. "Jo isn't a career person, she only wants to make some money so that she can go out and enjoy herself at the weekend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne, who had left the womb aged 57, looked as me as if I'd just started talking in Mandarin. The concept of not living for work so totally alien to her I might as well have suggested that some people like to chew off their own heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But she works really well when she's here," I continued. "But she's starting to feel that people are getting at her and this is affecting her work. I wouldn't want to lose her from the team."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne thought for a moment before speaking. "If someone can't take the strain they shouldn't be in this job. We need to start weeding out the shirkers that are dragging this department down. Don't be taken in by Jo.We can't continue to support people who just want to take from this company and don't want to give anything back. Be careful with your dealings with her, Luke. People like that are always judging others by their own standards and accusing colleagues of their own behaviors."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite. I thought.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-491865869437875744?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/491865869437875744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=491865869437875744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/491865869437875744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/491865869437875744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/wednesday-one-of-our-knives-is-missing.html' title='Wednesday - One of our knive&apos;s is missing'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-5508716168109535358</id><published>2007-03-07T07:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-07T07:59:44.826Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - No Asshole's allowed</title><content type='html'>Not much of a blog today but Dan's has indicated that he might put an entry into the staff suggestion scheme that the company introduce a &lt;a href="http://www.metro.co.uk/fame/interviews/article.html?in_article_id=39357&amp;amp;in_page_id=11"&gt;'No Asshole's rule' &lt;/a&gt;as proposed by Robert Sutton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who should be more worried - Anne or me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-5508716168109535358?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/5508716168109535358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=5508716168109535358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/5508716168109535358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/5508716168109535358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/tuesday-no-assholes-allowed.html' title='Tuesday - No Asshole&apos;s allowed'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-7893331288080264747</id><published>2007-03-01T21:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-01T21:47:10.920Z</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Shhhhhh!</title><content type='html'>Some days I feel like I'm trapped in a cage with a sleeping bear. No matter how much I tip toe, I know that bear isn't going to stay asleep forever and soon it'll wake, notice me and it a fit of pique rip me to shreds just because didn't nod my head on cue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those days. Anne had imprinted the strategy for today at 8:30 when just Tracey, Jez and I were in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ITS VERY DIFFICULT FOR ME TO CONCENTRATE IN HERE WITH ALL THIS NOISE OUT HERE.  I'VE A LOT TO DO AND I DON'T EXPECT TO HAVE TO COME OUT HERE AGAIN!" She snarled at us before disappearing back into her dark and strangely smelling corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A damage limitation exercise followed. As the teams drifted in, I casually and quietly requested that they keep things down for today. Everyone was compliant apart from Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? Why? Does that mean we can't answer the phone?" He boomed in that deep Valleys accent of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," I mouthed in the vain hope that he might take a hint. "but no idle chit-chat about Eastenders or the six nations,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We need to be able to make small talk between calls. It helps morale,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's always singling us out," added Jo, now following Gareth's lead and standing up for her rights. "Jez's team spent all yesterday afternoon talking about Steve's ingrowing toenail but Anne didn't say anything to them,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It doesn't matter what they do," I said. "We mustn't do anything to annoy Anne today,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry but I can't be quiet all day. It's not practical," said Gareth, his voice getting louder and louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo and Dan joined in. They all started talking at once, creating the very row that I'd been  so determined to avoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dan. Jo. Gareth. Please let me explain, " I said through gritted teeth but it was too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Luke!" Bellowed Anne from the shadow of her nest. "I expect you to lead by example and all I can hear is your yapping. I don't want to have to say it again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still. At least it shut  the team up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-7893331288080264747?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/7893331288080264747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=7893331288080264747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/7893331288080264747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/7893331288080264747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/03/thursday-shhhhhh.html' title='Thursday - Shhhhhh!'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-6088788504029296429</id><published>2007-02-21T19:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-21T20:03:28.260Z</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Trapped in 1973</title><content type='html'>I have a boss who is a female misogynist. She doesn't believe in any "touchy-feely" stuff and thinks that staff development is a plotline from Lord of the Rings. To her, people should do as she says because "She is the boss" and it doesn't matter how insane or petty the order, that is all that matters. To her, all staff are moronic imbeciles who cannot do anything right and do not deserve anything other than abuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss lies, cheats and bullies and has no understanding of the concept of leading by example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've a sneaking suspicion - or it may even be a vague hope - that I've been transported back to the year 1973 just like John Simm in "Life on Mars".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except in my case the boss in question is fatter, uglier and hairier than Gene Hunt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-6088788504029296429?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/6088788504029296429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=6088788504029296429&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6088788504029296429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6088788504029296429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/02/wednesday-trapped-in-1973.html' title='Wednesday - Trapped in 1973'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-4819609513466833345</id><published>2007-02-20T18:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-20T18:56:51.795Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - The Bitches of East Wing</title><content type='html'>Tension is building up between my team and Jez's. It's now almost a daily occurance for Anne to pull me to one side because - someone somewhere has said that someone in my team has done something that they shouldn't have. Not that I'm one to apportion fault but this blame-throwing has a distinct Jez aroma to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today it was the high volume of calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Handled rates were particularly low yesterday," said Anne. "Tell me what happened."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told her that I'd offered overtime. I told her how I pulled staff back from breaks and that I'd taken ringbacks but volumes were high and staffing levels were low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I heard that you allowed Jo to have an hour long break in the afternoon," She said cocking the gun that said all it needed to say. Her source was now obvious but somehow the time scale concerned had been through some sort of clerical black hole in the journey from Argumentative Man to Jez to Anne, and had been distorted from its actual 2 minute reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her the truth, although whether she believed it or not was uncertain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I discovered just how perceptive the rest of the team were in our weekly team meeting. With a lot of sabre rattling, they moaned how Jez's team were quick to pass work back to you if it was yours but would not take it off you if it was theirs and  you'd been unfortunate enough to receive the call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They picked up on the fact that even though Jez has more staff, their output is far less per head than mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just what does Jez's team do exactly? Apart from slagging off everyone else in the department,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wallowed in the shared moment for minute before doing the professional thing and reasoning  the issue into its rightful state of indifference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With any luck, Jez's gameplay will see him promoted out of the department before long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-4819609513466833345?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/4819609513466833345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=4819609513466833345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/4819609513466833345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/4819609513466833345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/02/tuesday-bitches-of-east-wing.html' title='Tuesday - The Bitches of East Wing'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-8943217010670284052</id><published>2007-02-19T21:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-19T21:47:29.381Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - The Most Argumentative Man in the World</title><content type='html'>I had a run in today with the most argumentative man in the world. Of course, he works in Jez's team and for that reason alone, is seen as one of the rising stars in the department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what hold Jez has over Anne, but it can only involve Polaroids or a plain brown envelope. But I digress. TMAMITW who will from this point on be named Argumentative Man accosted me on the stairs and started bemoaning the high volume of calls that the department is currently struggling to cope with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We need more people on the phone," he said, argumentatively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agreed with him but this only seemed to annoy him even more. I got the distinct impression that if it would have stood up in court, he would have disembowelled me with with his company issue biro there and then. To Argumentative Man, even agreement is not enough, agreement is merely asking for trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jo in your team has been on a break for over half an hour!" he cried. This I knew was a lie. She'd been away for two minutes at the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll go and ask her to return if we're inundated," I said Chamberlain-like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's far too long," Argumentative Man continued as if he hadn't heard what I just said. "The phones are far too busy. We need more people taking calls," He shouted, raising his voice even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone who can be on is on. We'll start taking ring backs to ease congestion." I told Argumentative Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ringbacks are no good. We need more staff," Continued Argumentative Man as if he expected me to pull some fully trained temps out of my pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left him on the stairs to continue his argument alone. I imagine that the fire extinguisher would have been a more suitable opponent for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-8943217010670284052?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/8943217010670284052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=8943217010670284052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8943217010670284052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/8943217010670284052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/02/monday-most-argumentative-man-in-world.html' title='Monday - The Most Argumentative Man in the World'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-820396359463710819</id><published>2007-02-13T20:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-13T20:15:43.342Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - six hours, thirty-one minutes and counting</title><content type='html'>Kate's boyfriend has organised a romantic Valentine's Day break in a Lake District Cottage tomorrow for the two of them. As a result Kate's been counting the minutes until the end of the day when she leaves and doesn't return to the office until next Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I might not get there at all if the Sap Nav has anything to do with it," She told the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Surely you mean Sat Nav," smirked Dan desperate to correct her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. When the only form of in-car navigation is my boyfriend and the 2002 AA Gazzeteer, its exactly what I mean," said Kate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-820396359463710819?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/820396359463710819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=820396359463710819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/820396359463710819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/820396359463710819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/02/tuesday-six-hours-thirty-one-minutes.html' title='Tuesday - six hours, thirty-one minutes and counting'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-7755684673300639499</id><published>2007-02-06T21:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-06T22:07:50.208Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Man Flu</title><content type='html'>It's that time of year again. We have casualties across the office, lost to the latest bug to hit the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward reading the self-certification notices when the staff return. It's always a viral infection or flu, never a cold. A cold just sounds as if you need to put on another layer of clothing, but the fact is, unless you're immobile for a week, it's a cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I've been struggling in work with my own 'flu' this week, but I'm a team leader and I have to set an example and so I have to face down the calls from the team for me to go home because 'I'm spreading my germs,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm past the infectious stage," I told the team, knowingly quoting from my HR absence management course and then spluttering into my coffee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-7755684673300639499?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/7755684673300639499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=7755684673300639499&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/7755684673300639499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/7755684673300639499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/02/tuesday-man-flu.html' title='Tuesday - Man Flu'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-6461814982434733947</id><published>2007-01-31T19:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-31T19:59:05.820Z</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Rats in a maze</title><content type='html'>I've spent the last two days working as some sort of Human Berlin Wall, making sure that Kate and Gareth's bullets don't hit each other. In the end, despite various degrees of negotiation and reasoning with each of them individually - with Gareth explaining that Kate is the senior member of the team and with Kate coaching her in getting team members to perform there still didn't seem to be any kind of breakthrough. It had gone beyond a simple disagreement now, petty as it was, to quote the movie trailer's (adopt big gruff American trailer voice) 'This time it's personal!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike the time when I was first asked to deputise for my team leader - when I was told that I was in charge of the team, but I couldn't actually let any of the team know, I had explained Kate's position and seniority in my absence. But this wasn't enough for Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I had no alternative but to browse the internet for trust exercises and finding one, put one into action in my team meeting. One at a time, each team member was blindfolded and then directed around an obstacle course of chairs and tables by spoken instructions from their exercise partner. In this case I placed Gareth and Kate together and I think it might have worked. I'll just have to see how things pan out. I mean a bond has to develop between someone when you're trusting them to guide you around a room without impaling yourself on a haphazard chairleg and they do it without any harm to your person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure Jo didn't really mean to let me walk into the corner of that table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-6461814982434733947?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/6461814982434733947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=6461814982434733947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6461814982434733947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6461814982434733947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/wednesday-bottom-of-pile.html' title='Wednesday - Rats in a maze'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-6002106785201892627</id><published>2007-01-26T20:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-26T20:38:30.198Z</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Man in the Middle</title><content type='html'>Two hours. That's all it takes for the team to fall apart in my absence. This may sound a little arrogant on my part, assuming that the team could not function in a responsible and rational way without my presence to oversee things, but sometimes this is one of the joys of teamleadership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate intercepted me on my return and requested an audience in one of the empty meeting rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gareth's out of control," She told me. "He won't listen to me. He won't do what I ask of him,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate had demonstrated the first mistake that newly promoted staff make. She'd presumed that the team would blindly follow her requests like a group of squaddies that had just stepped from their passing out parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me exactly what happened," I asked Kate calmly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I gave him some of the file allocations to complete but he said that he had an urgent complaint case to clear. I told him that the file allocations were more urgent and should be his priority for the morning. But he still refused,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said that you'd expected him to close off the complaint case today. When I asked him to drop the complaint he said I was overly sensitive,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said you were 'overly sensitive'?" I questioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not though!" shrilled Kate in a way that I should not at all describe as 'sensitive'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have a word with him," I told Kate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to my desk there already was an email from Gareth, blinking politely in my inbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Luke. Can I have a minute." He'd written. "It's about Kate..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-6002106785201892627?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/6002106785201892627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=6002106785201892627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6002106785201892627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6002106785201892627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/friday-man-in-middle.html' title='Friday - Man in the Middle'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-3620816808173391664</id><published>2007-01-25T20:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T20:59:07.655Z</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Diamond Des Enters the Building</title><content type='html'>Anne was in a good mood this morning. A very good mood. And she was wearing her best black smock and had even spent a few minutes in the Ladies applying some make-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason was clearer at 11AM, when her boss, Diamond Des Diamond entered the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was challenged by a new starter, who, having only been at work in the company a few days, didn't have a clue as to who he was. When Des finally got through reception his ego had been bruised like a peach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were called into a meeting about Customer Service with him but the timing of the meeting was cause for concern. The phones wouldn't be covered by any of the team but when I broached the issue with Anne. Her response was merely that he is on a tight schedule and we have to all fit around him. He is the boss and we all have to do as he says. Of course if he hadn't been slumming it on a expenses paid train trip in first class and then didn't have a return journey a few hours later maybe he could have been more accommodating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More and more in my dealings with Directors I'm starting to realise that they seem to exhibit the temperament and behaviour of a spoilt 2-year old. Flatter their ego's and let them have whatever toys they want to play with and they're fine. But if you don't know who they are or question a decision then they'll throw themselves to the floor and beat their hands and feet in a corporate version of a temper tantrum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it could be that 'Yes-Women' like Anne who'll flirt around and tug at their forlock the instance she sees someone a payscale above her merely pander to this perception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is why I'll never get anywhere in this company. I'm not a militant but I just cannot bring myself to bow my head and wring a flat-cap between my hands. It doesn't matter if it's your boss or not. An idiot is still an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-3620816808173391664?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/3620816808173391664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=3620816808173391664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3620816808173391664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3620816808173391664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/thursday-diamond-des-enters-building.html' title='Thursday - Diamond Des Enters the Building'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-1640958807292219594</id><published>2007-01-25T08:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T20:40:47.967Z</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Crumbs</title><content type='html'>Ted was most disappointed. His wife, Mrs Ted hadn't prepared his usual sandwiches this morning as she had to leave home early to visit their son in Luton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted slummed it with the rest of us at the baguette shop opposite the office. He sat at his desk trying to navigate his teeth around a peninsula sized french stick, dripping lettuce and red onion shavings like a ticker-tape parade around his chair. Most of these he plucked up off the carpet when he'd finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly afterwards, Jez meandered over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope Ted is going to vacuum all of that up," he said referring to some barely visible bread crumbs left on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's only a few crumbs. You can hardly notice them. We do still have office cleaners don't we?" I told Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's got to complete the file allocations." I added when I realised that he might just be serious. Ever since Jo had been placed under the magnifying glass of management scrutiny everyone else had to cover her workload while she proved that she was up to the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez wandered away.  Later that afternoon I returned to my desk from tracking down a couple of files. Ted had the office Dyson out and was running the nozzle around his chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ted. What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just what I'm told," grumbled Ted.  "Anne said I had to clear up the mess,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glanced over at Jez but before I could say anything Ane emerged from out of her cave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jez was quite right. We can't have the place looking a disgusting mess, People need to clear up after themselves,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know. Sometimes words fail me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-1640958807292219594?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/1640958807292219594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=1640958807292219594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/1640958807292219594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/1640958807292219594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/wednesday-crumbs.html' title='Wednesday - Crumbs'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-6831799415549990165</id><published>2007-01-22T20:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-23T21:19:40.614Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Jo in the Firing Line</title><content type='html'>I consider that there is a role for everyone in my team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each executive has their own very individual strengths and I focus (listen to me getting all management speak on you) on magnifying those positives whilst at the same time developing the areas in which they are weakest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo for instance, gives great phone. She is polite, professional, charming and positive to the person on the other end of the line. It doesn't matter that she's reading the latest issue of Heat when she's talking because the customer doesn't know, and will have melted like butter at the end of the call, no matter what their grievance, thinking they have just been hand-delivered exceptional customer service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, they have. But Jo was reading about Jordan and Peter Andre when she provided it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all about perception at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise if I know I need a monotonous but high volume task completed. Then I know Jo's your (wo)man. She doesn't do detail, but she clears a backlog like it's a bar lined with vodka jellies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was perception that called me into Anne's hole this morning. The perception that because Jo is loud, flirty and bubbly that she is vacuous, lazy and a waste of space. Anne had Jo's timesheet in hand as evidence to support her theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are your impressions of Jo?" Anne asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost told her how productive Jo was but knew how many bullets the timesheet Anne held had loaded. There were no categories on the sheets for the work that Jo output. Anne had had issues with her since she'd joined the team. It was probably these reservations that had placed her in my reporting line as opposed to Jez's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She cleared the November backlog pretty much single-handedly. She's kept the file allocation to a minimum. She's not working for a career but she'll process what's put in front of her," I told Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne was blunt and to the point. "She's not processing anywhere near as much work as she should be with the amount of experience she has. She needs to improve or I'll have to manage her out,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But she's processing more of the backlog than anyone else, and file allocation has been kept up to date since she took it over."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But she's not closing as many complaints as Gareth, Dan or even Ted for that matter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's doing more than Kate,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kate has other duties,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I knew that putting forward Jo's case was a pointless exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll get Jo up to speed," I told Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now Jo's working day is set on solely closing complaints. The backlog isn't being processed, the files are not getting allocated and the customers are missing out on Jo's great phone service. But if it can get Jo out of the firing line it'll be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a strapline that can be found throughout the company on numerous walls and posters. It is a quote from the CEO and it reads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Without the Customer, we are not a business. Without the Customer, we have no business. Our Business are our Customers. Remember this every day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did remember this, as I tasked Jo with ignoring the customers, just so she could appease Anne and avoid being fired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-6831799415549990165?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/6831799415549990165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=6831799415549990165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6831799415549990165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/6831799415549990165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/tuesday-jo-in-firing-line.html' title='Tuesday - Jo in the Firing Line'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-762698679575961268</id><published>2007-01-22T19:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-22T20:06:17.960Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - 23 and a half</title><content type='html'>The new series of "24" began last night and as much as I have a rule about not blogging on anything unrelated to the daily grind, I can't resist making a few observations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack Bauer has spent 20 months in a Chinese jail, presumably being starved, deprived of sleep and tortured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within two hours of being freed, he has showered, shaved, been driven to a storm drain, handcuffed to a grate, abducted, driven to a secret hideout, tortured again, chewed out a terrorist's throat, hotwired a car, driven to a another secret hideout - through traffic - faster than a pair of helicopters could fly there, persuaded some terrorists he's on their side, rescued them from the secret hideout, followed another terrorist, got onto a subway train, had a fight and then pushed the said terrorist out of the car through a very flimsy door just as he set off his suicide bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two hours this morning, I've showered, shaved and waited for a delayed train. Sat at my desk, booted up my PC, waited for it to warm up, got a coffee, read some emails and have been called into a meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If think I need to boost my productivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, how come anyone in the series can log onto any PC and in a tense 15 seconds, take control of a spy satellite and home its camera's on any given point on Earth or, delete an entire database just in the time that it takes someone else to wiggle their mouse to disable their screen's powersave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just hovering my pointer over an Access database causes my whole PC's system to grind to a complete and utter standstill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think CTU have been shopping at Dell for their IT equipment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-762698679575961268?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/762698679575961268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=762698679575961268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/762698679575961268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/762698679575961268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/monday-23-and-half.html' title='Monday - 23 and a half'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-2300202201595976405</id><published>2007-01-15T20:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-15T20:27:02.251Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - 101 Ways to Brighten your Day</title><content type='html'>The topics of conversation from the team today were Leo Sayer's pants, Jade's mum and David Beckham's forthcoming transfer to America where he will play 'soccerball' in front of thousands of adoring Mexican immigrants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was called into an impromptu meeting in Anne's cave with the other team leaders. There was good news and bad news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news was that an auditor was going to visit the department this week. The good news was that he wasn't arriving until Wednesday, so we had two days in which to prepare for his visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all given the strictest of instructions to ensure that no-one in our teams' were to so much as break wind in a non-company way when he arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sat back at my desk Dan was in the middle of explaining how he brightened his day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes, I lower my chair as far as it will go and look around the office. Its incredible how something as simple as a change of perspective can make a view more interesting," he told the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a cupboard in which to lock Dan for the duration of the auditors visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-2300202201595976405?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/2300202201595976405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=2300202201595976405&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2300202201595976405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/2300202201595976405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/monday-101-ways-to-brighten-your-day.html' title='Monday - 101 Ways to Brighten your Day'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-3567380873826006325</id><published>2007-01-05T23:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-05T23:28:52.998Z</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Now That's What I call Neuro Linguisitic Programming</title><content type='html'>This is probably one of those posts where I get a little too philosophical for my own good. For those of you that don't know, NLP is the scientific of the individual interpretation of language and even those who are not aware of its principles often find themselves using its techniques.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, Anne couches her language in these ways - she refers to herself,  in very positive powerful ways such as &lt;strong&gt;"&lt;/strong&gt;I have solved this problem," "I understand what he really means," "I will give you the benefit of the doubt,".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When referring to others it is always the opposite. For example, "You cannot see the big picture," "People are incapable of following simple procedures," "You've got this completely wrong you absolute imbecile!" and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this means that she is actually capable or any good at running a department efficiently but it certainly can help her to pull the wool over her superior's eyes. I can imagine the post interview review amongst the board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, she is very positive,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. She certainly knows her stuff,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're right she was the loudest and brashest person we've interviewed. And she is a woman. She must be good. We'd better hire her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interesting fact about NLP is that Derren Brown uses it in his mind control performances. Those of you that saw the Special this Christmas would probably have been as astounded as I was when he got random members of an audience to pick a random word from a random cutting of a randomly selected newspaper. Of course it all became clear when he explained that he did it by suggesting rather obviously through his performance that they "Choose 'Daily Mail' a number from the board,".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try these techniques this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne, I'll just bring that (promote Luke) report over right now,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just might work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-3567380873826006325?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/3567380873826006325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=3567380873826006325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3567380873826006325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/3567380873826006325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/friday-now-thats-what-i-call-neuro.html' title='Friday - Now That&apos;s What I call Neuro Linguisitic Programming'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-5305673932228112924</id><published>2007-01-03T19:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-03T19:32:44.822Z</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Eastenders for beginners</title><content type='html'>As overheard in the team today when they were discussing the latest plotlines in the 'enders:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo:  "So Martin thinks Joe killed Pauline?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: "No, Martin said I know who killed Pauline"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo: "I thought he said 'I know you killed Pauline,'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted: "He said I know who killed Pauline because Rebecca saw Sonia hit Pauline,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: "And Sonia thinks that she killed Pauline,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo: "I'm sure he said that 'I know you killed Pauline,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: " No it was 'I know who killed Pauline,'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo: "So he doesn't think that Joe killed Pauline?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate and Ted: "No. He thinks that Sonia killed Pauline,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan: "Does anyone know how to get the sludgey stuff from chicken soup out of the end of a bic biro after they've stirred it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-5305673932228112924?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/5305673932228112924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=5305673932228112924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/5305673932228112924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/5305673932228112924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2007/01/wednesday-eastenders-for-beginners.html' title='Wednesday - Eastenders for beginners'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116509085452460266</id><published>2006-12-02T19:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-02T18:51:32.470Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - One Resolution Too Many</title><content type='html'>My New Year's Resolution is to maintain the blog on a more regular basis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will do this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not be distracted by video's of thirteen year olds philosophising on YouTube or MySpace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not play Java games that involve catapulting penguins into snowploughs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will blog. It will be on a regular basis and I will not be on too much of a downer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if only I could persuade my audience to read this, instead of being distracted by home made webcam videos of thirteen years olds philosophising on Youtube and Myspace or playing java games that catapult penguins into snowploughs then I'll be really happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116509085452460266?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116509085452460266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116509085452460266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116509085452460266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116509085452460266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/12/tuesday-one-resolution-too-many.html' title='Tuesday - One Resolution Too Many'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116310471589492590</id><published>2006-11-09T20:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-06T13:20:42.583Z</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Our Staff Are Our Most Valuable Asset</title><content type='html'>We've been under the kosh this week due to a sickness bug that has decimated the customer complaints team. Both Jo and Gareth have been off since Monday. Kate and Ted, as expected have battled on but Dan has hinted that he too, is starting to suffer. I expect he's planning a long weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our weekly team leader meeting in Anne's hole in the morning. Anne berated the staff for their absence levels, ulimately worried about how this looks with head office. Its all reported back to them monthly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've got to tighten up on sickness related absence," said Anne. "Its always the same names letting everyone else down and increasing workloads for the whole department."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've got to look at the underlying cause," I commented. "If staff are happy in their work then they will make the extra effort to come in if they're feeling a bit run down. But at the moment morale is low and backlogs are excessive. They feel unappreciated and no-one is listening to them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne thought over this. Jez appeared a little shocked but Tracey was nodding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said Anne sternly. "If they don't like it they can just go and get another job." She said, proving my point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116310471589492590?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116310471589492590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116310471589492590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116310471589492590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116310471589492590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/11/thursday-our-staff-are-our-most.html' title='Thursday - Our Staff Are Our Most Valuable Asset'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116258837317632423</id><published>2006-11-03T20:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-03T21:12:53.266Z</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Ol' Beardy Face</title><content type='html'>Gareth and Dan are going to have a beard growing competition. They've asked Ted and me to join in but I've had to turn them down citing earlier gf statements that she wouldn't kiss me when I had a bit of stubbley growth on my chin. Ted doesn't want to look like Santa Claus's anorexic younger brother so he's also turned them down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can feel it itching already, " said Dan stoking his cheeks. "I don't know if I can keep this up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate, eager to please, chased up her &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-all-systems-are-go.html"&gt;system enhancements document&lt;/a&gt;, that was currently buried beneath a mountain of invoices on Anne's desk. I glanced towards Anne's cave, where she prowled like a hungry bear with a hangover. The dark clouds above her alcove did not bode well and I didn't want to be the person to be prodding her with a short stick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate looked at me expectantly. &lt;br /&gt;"I'll go and see if Anne's reviewed it yet," I said bravely &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I peered over the partition and asked Anne in my most inoffensive tone, whether she'd looked at Kate's document. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first she appeared to be taken aback and didn't remember the document I was referring to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know. Yes. There's some detail missing from it," She said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need a cost/savings analysis." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's already in the report."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne blinked in surprise before regaining her composure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." She said firmly as if I was the one who wasn't listening. "I need more detail." She said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, what detail?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've got some telephone conferences to attend. Can we discuss this Monday?" She answered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116258837317632423?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116258837317632423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116258837317632423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116258837317632423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116258837317632423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/11/friday-ol-beardy-face.html' title='Friday - Ol&apos; Beardy Face'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116250419691707694</id><published>2006-11-02T21:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-02T21:49:56.973Z</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Kid Gloves</title><content type='html'>Jo's appraisal. I tracked her down in the rest room and overheard her talking to Dan before I dragged her along to the interview room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm really nervous," Jo told Dan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll be all right. You'll just flutter those eyelashes and he'll forgive you anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not like that. He had to have a word with me about lateness and sickness this year,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh sorry Luke. I promise I'll be a good girl from now on," Dan said bending backwards and fluttering his eyelashes at Jo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleared my throat to give them warning and entered the room. Dan almost spilt his coffee over himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ready Jo?" I said, pretending that I hadn't heard any of the earlier conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She cast Dan a look as we left for the interview room, like that of the condemned (wo)man walking the green mile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo was right in that the main issue with her work output was her loose grasp of the concept of punctuality and the number of hangovers she'd had to face under the guise of food poisonings, migraines and viral infections. Jo wasn't as dispassionate as she appeared. She had been known on rare occassions to burst into a flood of tears, usually after one of Anne's barbed comments. I had to raise this subject with her and after overhearing her earlier concerns, very, very, carefully and with a immense amount of compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen minutes later and I'd run out of tissues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's ok," I said. "You just need to be careful of your sickness levels,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you said I'd be sacked," Jo cried, he face burried within a crumpled mass of kleenex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I said that if you take too many days then as you know your performance will be reviewed under second level sickness procedures which can lead to a dismissal for ineffective performance,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're saying I'm ineffective," wailed Jo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fed up of this. "It's ok," I said, for once thanking Anne. "You've got a 3 anyway,"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116250419691707694?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116250419691707694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116250419691707694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116250419691707694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116250419691707694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/11/thursday-kid-gloves.html' title='Thursday - Kid Gloves'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116232271490854335</id><published>2006-10-31T19:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-31T20:04:03.900Z</updated><title type='text'>DO THIS NOW!</title><content type='html'>For the second time in a week I find myself blogging on stuff unrelated to my job but I make no excuses for this. More importantly this will affect you, whoever you are and wherever you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We only have one planet to live on and like it or not, climate change is real and it's happening. If you live in the UK you can register with &lt;a href="http://www.icount.org.uk/"&gt;I Count&lt;/a&gt; who are petitioning the public to email their local MP's and to put in place legislation to reduce carbon emissions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The I Count website states:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Together we can help stop climate chaos by cutting carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We want to see a Climate Change Bill passed by Parliament which will make year-on-year cuts in CO2 a law. This has never happened before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea of a Bill is backed by thousands and thousands of people across the UK, and by over half our MPs. After much campaigning the Government has responded by saying it will introduce a Bill at some point – although we don’t yet know what the wording will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speed is of the essence. We want the government to include a truly effective Bill in the Queen's Speech on 15th November.  And this will only happen if the government feels the heat from all 646 MPs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why we're asking you to send an email to your MP. It's their job to represent you - help make sure they do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I urge everyone of you from the UK to do this. The site will even work out who your local MP is and generate the email for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're not from the UK then please contact your local Government Representatives and start a similar campaign. We have to make a difference because no-one else is going to save our world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all heard the excuses - that its no good doing it if China/America/Russia (Add the large national CO2 cuplrit of choice) doesn't, but this has to start somewhere and doing something is a million times better than doing nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. I've had my say. Please now have yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116232271490854335?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116232271490854335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116232271490854335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116232271490854335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116232271490854335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/do-this-now.html' title='DO THIS NOW!'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116224109374795933</id><published>2006-10-30T20:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-30T20:46:16.310Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Gary Has Left the Building</title><content type='html'>Gary handed his notice in today. I think going from second-in-command to tea boy was just one kick too many. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't give too much to the company," He told me when I asked him about his news. "You won't get any thanks for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At least there'll now be someone to blame for everything that goes wrong for the next six months," Gareth commented in a rather insightful way once Gary had left the office.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116224109374795933?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116224109374795933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116224109374795933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116224109374795933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116224109374795933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/monday-gary-has-left-building.html' title='Monday - Gary Has Left the Building'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116197731833837498</id><published>2006-10-27T20:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T20:28:38.446+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Gareth Gets his Groove Back</title><content type='html'>I've done it. I've blogged everyday this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I am tempted to just leave today's blog at that, but this, I think would be cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Gareth's turn in the interview room for his performance review meeting. Anne and Jez would say that he's a mouthy and opinionated little git but I can see beyond that. He's just a very passionate person who cares about his work. Its just his approach that requires revision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained that the meeting is just an open two-way discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you think your colleagues see you?" I began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"With their eyes," Gareth laughs. "No only joking. Hard-working. knowledgeable. Helpful." He recalled his CV from memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying different tact I ask: "Has there been anything that has annoyed you over the year. In respect of working practices?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth chewed on this before answering. "Yeah. There's been a few things that I've not agreed with,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And how have you dealt with these situations?" I probed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth now looked uneasy. Not really a position I wanted him to be in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok. You may not agree with something but you have to do it at the end of the day," He said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you wouldn't tell Anne that something is a 'load of bollocks and whoever thought of this is an idiot'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wouldn't say anything like that," said Gareth defensively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. But you did on an email to her," I told him whilst handing him my evidence. A hardcopy of a message sent by Gareth on the 3rd of October,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah," said Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point on it was easier to get my point across. Gareth had to watch what he said and stop his overheated emotional outbursts. His responses to things that he didn't agree with had to measured and handled professionally. By all means question his colleagues, I didn't want him to stop that and if he could do this and stop asking every new recruit what their salary was then he'd be a little closer to the next rung of the ladder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I peered into Anne's cave later that afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have you had a chance to look at Kate's recommendations yet?" I asked cheerily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne waved me away. "I'll have to look at it next week,"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116197731833837498?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116197731833837498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116197731833837498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116197731833837498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116197731833837498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/friday-gareth-gets-his-groove-back.html' title='Friday - Gareth Gets his Groove Back'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116189251201057588</id><published>2006-10-26T20:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T20:57:57.160+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Africa Screams</title><content type='html'>Its not the place fo this blog to comment on events in the 'real world' but I have to make an exception today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sooner had I mused upon a method of  &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/saturday-first-time-ever.html"&gt;changing society for the better&lt;/a&gt; and suddenly Mo Ibrahim has offered a prize to the African head of state that leaves office after providing the most benefit to their nation whilst they were in office. &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6086088.stm"&gt;See the full story here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a commendable act but for it to work the prize has to be worth more than the kickbacks from corrupt practice. I don't know how much you can earn from taking bribes from toxic chemical companies but I imagine it can be quite substantial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The leaders also have to believe that they are in with a shout until the finish otherwise you'll get even greater apathy from those that do not believe they have a chance of winning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niger: "I'm not even going to bother with this. Kenya's a shoe-in for the prize. Now who wants these AK-47's?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally Harvard University is going to assess which leader has provided the greatest improvements in Security, Health, Welfare and Education to their country. But how are they going to assess this. If we're talking about the head of state then who has overall control of the statistics they can provide? Will they be sending in Price Waterhouse Coopers to do a quick audit on their healthcare? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So last year 300,000 were HIV positive and now you have only 2?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And the Ebola virus?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've cured it. I'll show you. Visit our hospitals. There is no-one in the wards. We have some lovely landscape gardening in the grounds. Its a bit 'hilly' but very pretty." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the whole the idea is great. As I said earlier, I recommended it but my faith in human nature isn't that high. I've no great knowledge on Africa and I don't pretend to be but this isn't about that continent. Its about the way people are and the way that those who seek power tend to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anything I'd like to see the same scheme introduced here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What decisions would Tony Blair have made if the same prize had been available to him I wonder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. This is enough of this diversion from the usual blog-like witterings. I apologise. I have Gareth's performance review to look forward to tomorrow and can assure you that service will be back to normal by the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116189251201057588?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116189251201057588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116189251201057588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116189251201057588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116189251201057588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/thursday-africa-screams.html' title='Thursday - Africa Screams'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116180748066582816</id><published>2006-10-25T21:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T21:18:02.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - All Systems are Go</title><content type='html'>Despite the start, Kate's performance review meeting ended a lot better than it had began. It's so much easier to incentivise someone when they are interested in what they do and want to do it well. I impressed myself with my creativity in setting Kate's objectives and I would hope that she left the meeting feeling energised and motivated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Kate's bugbears was the application we use to record complaints. As a system, it was designed by real IT geeks whose concept of the term 'user friendly' is that the user doesn't swear at their system and has an indepth working knowledge of C# and SQL. I have a rudimentary knowledge which means that I'm treated with slightly less contempt than the other users. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a number of minor issues with the system that although are not massive, do impact on the effectiveness of users working with it. If anyone was inspired I was - Kate had motivated me to do something about them. It was an inhouse system anyway so it wasn't as if we were trying to rewrite Microsoft Windows. I asked Kate to prepare a list of 'suggested improvements' and then from this drafted a business case including cost savings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne almost fell off her chair when I approached her cave with our document in hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll look at this some point this week," Anne said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know. I almost feel like she just might.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116180748066582816?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116180748066582816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116180748066582816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116180748066582816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116180748066582816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-all-systems-are-go.html' title='Wednesday - All Systems are Go'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116171286659383862</id><published>2006-10-24T18:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T19:01:06.656+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Dan with the Plan</title><content type='html'>"So," I began in Dan's performance review meeting. "Where would you like to be in two years time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan pondered it for a second before answering; "On a beach somewhere hot, sipping a cold stella,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah," I said, slightly taken aback. "What about work?" I probed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I wouldn't be working. I would probably own a bar or something and spend all day lounging around the pool and then in the evening I would entertain young lady friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Right," I said desperately trying to think of a way to introduce the company's role in realising his dreams. "And what are you doing to achieve this goal? I mean, you are here now. How do you get from here to the pool and the bar?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. Probably my DJ'ing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You DJ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Got a couple of decks," He motioned spinning a record with his reight hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you play any clubs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. Not yet. Just practice in my bedroom mostly." Dan said without the slightest hint of embarrassment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dan. Why do you work for this company?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dunno. Its a job isn't it. It's money at the end of the day,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Anne had previously instructed, I gave Dan a solid 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After shepherding Dan out of the interview room, I  brought Kate in for her performance review meeting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kate. Where do you see yourself in two years time?" I asked her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In Anne's chair telling you what to do" Kate said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116171286659383862?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116171286659383862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116171286659383862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116171286659383862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116171286659383862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday-dan-with-plan.html' title='Tuesday - Dan with the Plan'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116163488350737002</id><published>2006-10-23T21:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T18:37:48.796Z</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Turning Negatives into Positives</title><content type='html'>This is my first Monday blog for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do mean to keep these up on a daily basis but sometimes I'm just so blown away by the inordinate amount of banal insanity that the start of the week can throw at you that I don't get round to it. Its the same every Monday morning. I gripe around the house hoping that I going to get a phonecall advising me not to go in as the office has been contaminated by some toxic biological fall-out, but it never happens and the GF has to prise me away from the doorjamb by telling me soothingly that it really isn't that bad and that I'll be ok once I'm at my desk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I fall for it every week. I should know better by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point. The 'company' carries out a staff survey every year. It is carried out by a third party company that specialises in these sorts of things and it is supposedly anonymous but no-one really believes it. Perhaps they don't quite believe that the unique and individual identification number given to every staff member to log onto the website and log their survey cannot be used to trace back to the staff member. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things that the department fell down on last year (One of Anne's objectives is her staff survey score) was that very few of us would recommend our own company products to our friends and family. Given that we have inside knowledge on the service that they would get and that the company isn't really interested in providing a service to the benefit to its customers but more in how many pounds they can squeeze out of their grasp then this, I believe, is an accurate reflection of staff's own view of our products - and no we don't get a discount either! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I would of thought that if this was the feedback given to the company, the natural response would be to find out more and hopefully change things. But the company is not a rational entity. The directors have their heads rammed firmly in the sand. The action point that Diamond Des Diamond has set Anne as a result of this feedback is to make sure that we understand our products fully because we obviously don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Des, its like this. I understand a pile of doggie doo but this doesn't mean I want to tread in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116163488350737002?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116163488350737002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116163488350737002&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116163488350737002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116163488350737002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/monday-turning-negatives-into.html' title='Monday - Turning Negatives into Positives'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116111766669264053</id><published>2006-10-17T21:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T03:13:20.556+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday epilogue - Adsense does it again</title><content type='html'>I really hope that you cannot see the Adsense advert on my blog that I'm looking at right now - 'Into cross dressing? Do you enjoy cross-dressing? Meet women that are into cross-dressing too' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've no idea why this is here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't performed any searches on cross-dressing. I haven't. I promise. Of course I've now just sabotaged myself by encouraging the type of hits I'm going to get on the above paragraph. It's like some sort of perverse paradox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116111766669264053?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116111766669264053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116111766669264053&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116111766669264053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116111766669264053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday-epilogue-adsense-does-it-again.html' title='Tuesday epilogue - Adsense does it again'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116111424794217964</id><published>2006-10-17T20:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T20:41:38.343+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Everyone's average</title><content type='html'>It's appraisal time. This is the one part of the year where I actually feel like I'm earning my teamleaders salary. This is my chance to assess each team members' contribution for the year and score it accordingly. But more importantly, its time for me to have a lengthy one to one with them so that we can identify any strengths and weaknesses and then by targeting them, motivate them for the coming year. In my view the entire process is about the staff and allows them to get a say in their work. I find that this really helps morale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with most appraisal systems there is a grading structure running from 1 to 5, with 1 meaning exceeding expectations and 5 being out the door sometime soon. It also has an impact on pay and for this reason can be controversial so its all the more important that the assessment is right and that I'm able to get the buy-in of the staff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd already started thinking about gradings - the final grading comes after the appraisal meeting and the staff member has been able to put their case across - when Anne told all of her team leaders that this year everyone is to get a 3 irrespective of performance. Tracey, feeling brave, challenged this. But Anne's decision was final. Everyone in her department gets a '3' and no-one in the company is allowed a 1. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So why have a five point grading system? Why not have just 4 if no-one is allowed a 1?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because the highest performers have got to have something to aim towards," said Anne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. It didn't make any sense to me either but there you go. I'm sure someone somewhere feels that there is a logic to this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116111424794217964?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116111424794217964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116111424794217964&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116111424794217964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116111424794217964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday-everyones-average.html' title='Tuesday - Everyone&apos;s average'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116085169856726479</id><published>2006-10-14T18:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T19:54:03.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday - First Time Ever</title><content type='html'>I lay in bed this morning drifting through that halfway house between sleep and panic sticken wakefulness. Even though I've been off work all week, my thoughts were stuck on my job like a wheel in a rut. I imagine as my return to the office on Monday looms ominously closer, my thoughts gear themselves up to getting back into 'workmode'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay there, it all became clear. The whole concept of the corporate work ethic is flawed. If I could break it down into a single rule it would be this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'If people are encouraged to succeed at work in return for personal reward, then the company will also prosper.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this is complete crap because it assumes that the individuals aims are the same as the companies, which of course they are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne's goal is to avoid getting sacked. She doesn't need any more money at the moment and all she does is with this aim in mind. Jez's objective is to gain more power, authority and money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither of these goals benefit the company. The company probably would prosper if Anne were sacked as it would save in salary and improve the morale and efficiency of the department that she runs. Jez's objective means that he backstabs his peers and works on whatever he thinks will impress those that can enhance his career path. Again this will not benefit the company. Now multiply that by the thousands that work for the business across the globe and you have a group of individuals all pulling in completely different directions. The company is just going to get pulled apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the CEO, just works to impress the shareholders. He doesn't work to improve company profits, not really, impressing the shareholders and the market to increase share price is his sole aim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all goes back to my original theory of &lt;a href="http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_diaryofawageslave_archive.html"&gt;quantum objectives&lt;/a&gt; and I realised as I lay in bed, can be found in all walks of life. But there has to be a different way. When I was at school my class was given an exercise to create the ideal utopian society. Everyone agreed that money was the route of all evil and then reinvented systems based upon communism and barterism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, a good few years older, I wonder if perhaps money isn't the problem but the way in which we distribute it is. Perhaps we need to step back from the detail and understand exactly what it is we want to achieve. And then I had an idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if we didn't reward people on the basis of meaningless and unmeasurable objectives that were vaguely attached to some corporate work ethic. What if people were solely remunerated based upon good deeds? Would the world be a nicer place then? Would more people give up a seat on a train or be complimentary about someones haircut if it meant they got an extra tenner in their karma based salary that month. This could also be extended to the workplace, where position and salaries were based solely on niceness. I daresay that Jez - who is playing the game by the rules purely for his benefit would change tact and likewise his manner in the office. And then who could begrudge him his post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you're probably asking yourself how this will boost company profits, but we have to make a complete paradigm shift in our thought processes. Company profits as we know them will not exist because companies will not exist for the same reasons. They will make profits based upon every good action they take. They will still manufacture products and sell financial products for the benefit of mankind but will be rewarded by the way in which they benefit the human race. It will be simply a question of measuring and rewarding the how and not the why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course there is one slight flaw in this plan, in that those who have attained power and status through more traditional means would then have to give it up and by their very nature, they're not likely to do so. But if we ask nicely they just might comply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116085169856726479?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116085169856726479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116085169856726479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116085169856726479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116085169856726479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/saturday-first-time-ever.html' title='Saturday - First Time Ever'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116068330156304047</id><published>2006-10-12T20:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T21:02:55.386+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Buy Gareth Gates on Ebay</title><content type='html'>I've just gone into the blog to check its ok and the Google Adsense advert has offered to sell me Gareth Gates on ebay! I'm not sure if you can see this or not. But What....?&lt;br /&gt;Why would anyone want to buy Gareth Gates on ebay? Have things been so bad for him these few years that he has resorted to selling himself to internet bargain hunters? But more importantly what relevance does Gareth Gates have to this blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've included these ads in the vague but receding hope of making some extra cash on t'interweb but their part of the bargain has to be that they do not advertise crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enuff said. BBC2 beckons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116068330156304047?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116068330156304047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116068330156304047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116068330156304047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116068330156304047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/buy-gareth-gates-on-ebay.html' title='Buy Gareth Gates on Ebay'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116068303096053274</id><published>2006-10-12T20:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T20:57:10.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Saved by the Divot</title><content type='html'>I know I'm not at work but I've had a lovely day off today. The GF and I went to the shops, spent lots of money, had a nice meal, played on the PS2, watched a DVD and all the time pretending that the lumpy Croatian pitch hadn't conspired so meanly against Paul Robinson last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate only called the once, to check where some files were.  After that I stopped answering the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, going to go now. Extra's is on in 15 minutes but my minds been idle. It's been wandering. What if Ricky Gervaise's Andy Millman character met the real life Ricky Gervais in the show? How would that work? What sort of charcter flaws could Ricky invent for his own personna to send himself up on his own show? Perhaps an arrogant slef-depreciating humility - "Oh I'm so crap but I'm still better than all of you. Go on laugh at me, but are you laughing at me or am I laughing at you, laughing at me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on Ricky, do it. I might even write in to the BBC to suggest it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116068303096053274?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116068303096053274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116068303096053274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116068303096053274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116068303096053274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/thursday-saved-by-divot.html' title='Thursday - Saved by the Divot'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116051435931682518</id><published>2006-10-10T22:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T22:05:59.316+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - R n R</title><content type='html'>I'm on holiday this week. Not doing anything special or going anywhere nice, just not going into work, so don't expect any work blogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how they're all getting on without me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116051435931682518?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116051435931682518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116051435931682518&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116051435931682518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116051435931682518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday-r-n-r.html' title='Tuesday - R n R'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-116003328760005088</id><published>2006-10-05T07:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T08:28:07.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - The Way Things Are</title><content type='html'>And lo, the Chief Executive - He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise - decreed that we should form an alliance with Company Zed. They are a good company and profitable and it will be rewarding for us, He declared. Their Chief Executive also frequents my club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he called forth his lieutenants and he told them of his plans and the date by which he wanted them to be complete. And they knew that they were bad and his plans did not exist in the realm of reality but they did not tell him this because he was the Chief Executive - He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise - and they feared for their positions of authority and their weighty salaries for which they had skillfully licked many arses and stabbed numerous backs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the lieutenants beckoned their sub-ordinates and told them of the plans of the chief executive which had now been named 'Project Leaping Panther'. And their sub-ordinates knew that the plans were bad and could not be complete by the date by which they needed to be complete but they held their tongues because He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise had decreed that this be so and he lives in a dimension where they word 'No' is never uttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the sub-ordinates called forth their teams and told them of 'Project Leaping Panther'. And their teams - whose feet walked upon the Earth - knew that these plans were bad and that they could not be achieved and because their feet walked upon the Earth they told the sub-ordinates this but the sub-ordinates told them that this will be achieved because He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise had decreed this be so and if that was the case it would and anyone who would not obey would be deemed an outsider and cast out to 'Projects' never to be seen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the teams began work on the plans for 'Project Leaping Panther' knowing that they would not be achieved, in the hope that another team would stand up and tell the sub-ordinates that they could not be achieved. But they could not do this because they feared for their jobs, but their colleagues also, were in the same position and held their tongues and so work continued even though it was fruitless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the teams and sub-ordinates gathered on many an occassion to discuss 'Project Leaping Panther' and although they all knew that the plans were bad they persisted. And they offered enough evidence to each other to cease their work on 'Project Leaping Panther' but because they feared for their jobs and He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise had decreed that this be so no one spoke out because he did not know the word 'No' and lived in a alternate dimension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the work was finished but it was not completed and those that were given it saw that it was bad and that it did not work and they said so. And those that were customers of the work saw that it was bad and that it did not work and they said so too. And they wrote many letters of complaint.  And He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholder Decide Otherwise got to know about this and he called forth his lieutenants and said: 'Find He Who is Responsible for this and punish him accordingly.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the lieutenants went forth and spake unto their sub-ordinates and issued the command from He Who Is Always Right Until the Shareholders Decide Otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the sub-ordinates called forth their teams and declared that He Who is Repsonsible is to be punished. And those that had not spoken out because they had feared for their jobs now spoke out against their colleagues until such a time as one of them had been selected and was justly punished and moved to Projects until such a time as they left the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-116003328760005088?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/116003328760005088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=116003328760005088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116003328760005088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/116003328760005088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/wednesday-way-things-are.html' title='Wednesday - The Way Things Are'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115990262597802636</id><published>2006-10-03T19:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T20:10:26.016+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Tower of Terror</title><content type='html'>"Mine's six," said Dan.&lt;br /&gt;"Not as big as mine. I've seven," Gareth replied.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted it to ask but I didn't like the look on Jo's face as she gazed down at her desk between them.&lt;br /&gt;"Shall we see how big we can get?" asked Dan.&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. But no cheating. You can only stack cups that you've drunk out of," replied Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathed a sigh of relief. On their desks were two stacks of drained plastic cups from the drinks machine. Urged on by their usual, competitive stag-like rutting behaviour, Gareth and Dan were going to see how high they could build their cup-towers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left them to their devices to attend the department meeting held in the conference room. Anne was in attendance, as was Tracey and Jez. Gary made an appearance. But only so someone could take minutes. He tried to add more input in a pathetic attempt to impress Anne. He doesn't realise that once her mind's made up, there's no going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We covered the usual topics. The backlogs, the complaints, the IT issues, outsourcing to Poland and India. It started to become clear that Jez's team wasn't pulling their weight when it came to workloads. Of course Jez did what all good shirkers do in this situation. He drew the management's attention to something unrelated and irrelevant to deflect attention away from himself. He made several disguised barbed comments about my team. He mentioned, Jo's punctuality although she hasn't been late for months. Not since my last chat. He commented on Dan's laziness and Gareth's inherent militancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't going to have this. You would have been proud. I defended my team. Only I can point out their shortcomings. I told them about Jo's handling of a complaint and Dan's idea's for improving the post distribution. Anne appeared astounded. Jez was put out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They may have a bit of a laugh now and again. But there's is no question about their commitment when it comes to it," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meeting ended with me several feet taller and my teams reputation glowing. I opened the conference room door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Timber!!" I heard Dan shouting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115990262597802636?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115990262597802636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115990262597802636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115990262597802636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115990262597802636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/tuesday-tower-of-terror.html' title='Tuesday - Tower of Terror'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115981634393911881</id><published>2006-10-02T19:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T20:12:24.006+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - "You Are Just Not Able To See The Bigger Picture"</title><content type='html'>There are a few phrases bandied about by our 'superiors' that seem to be common stock as answers for managers, that I suspect are used whenever the minions get a little too close to the truth. The one in the title of this entry is a case in point. As a get out clause it covers everything and leaves the recipients wondering to what incredible other dimensions our magical and sage-like overseers have access to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne's used it on many an occassion. Most notable in the recent offshoring of credit control functions. Whereas before, a quick phone query on a direct debit mandate would take a minute at most,  since relocating credit control to the other side of the Earth, the same query now takes&lt;br /&gt;twenty times that as our colleagues - who only speak English as a second language - very carefully follow each detailed step of the scripted procedure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a waste of time," said Gareth. "It may cost us a quarter of what it cost to run a UK based credit control department, but its taken six-times the amount of my time and theirs. How much is that costing the company?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overhearing this Anne popped her head over the partition of her lair and offered the management advice "There's more  to it than that," She told Gareth. And then to qualify her answer said "You're just not able to see the bigger picture."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Still seems ridiculous. I've wasted my time on this phone call." He muttered out of earshot once Anne had ducked back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course its only expensive because your hourly rate is so high," Ted told Gareth. "If they moved our jobs to India as well it wouldn't matter so much would it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115981634393911881?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115981634393911881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115981634393911881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115981634393911881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115981634393911881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/10/monday-you-are-just-not-able-to-see.html' title='Monday - &quot;You Are Just Not Able To See The Bigger Picture&quot;'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115929998602443613</id><published>2006-09-26T20:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T08:30:14.116Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Marketing Strategy</title><content type='html'>Our new televised marketing campaign was announced by Diamond Des today on one of his flying visits to the office to flash his orthodontal work at us. A couple of the okay-yah marketing bods joined him for a sneak preview of our new ads. I wish I could tell you what to look for but I can't for obvious reasons - maybe one day if I leave the company I'll let you know who we all are - but not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new campaign is designed to maximise customer awareness of our unique products and more specifically its special benefits according to okay-yah man. The marketing department has worked for three months on this campaign in close proximity to one of the largest and most prestigious advertising agencies in the world to create a strong brand name and awareness of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In layman's terms, the advert tells the viewer that our insurance is really, really cheap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115929998602443613?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115929998602443613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115929998602443613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115929998602443613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115929998602443613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/tuesday-marketing-strategy.html' title='Tuesday - Marketing Strategy'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115929926563315873</id><published>2006-09-26T20:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T20:34:25.646+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Inspector Dreyfus</title><content type='html'>Posting this a few days late but you deserve an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was dress down day and everyone turned up in green. Green tops, shirts, trousers, skirts and handkerchiefs. If there something green in the wardrobe then it was worn. Anne's comment that there was a consiracy against her had become, like all prophesies, self-fulfilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made no more mention of our attire but I'm sure I saw the beginnings of a nervous twitch in her right eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115929926563315873?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115929926563315873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115929926563315873&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115929926563315873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115929926563315873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/friday-inspector-dreyfus.html' title='Friday - Inspector Dreyfus'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115860393721807364</id><published>2006-09-18T19:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T19:25:37.336+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - The Food Chain</title><content type='html'>"Who's doing the stats now that Sue's gone?" Jez asked me while leaning over my shoulder in that overbearing friendly way of his that brought to mind bears and picnic hampers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How should I know? Why did he think this was my responsibility? Sue had been in his team, surely hers tasks were his to delegate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fatally I told him I'd ask Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne said that you were looking after it," Jez replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately my memory recall is good. Orders can often get lost in the fog of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was asked to provide a list of Sue's tasks. Twice. By Anne and Gary. Which I gave them. That was all.  I wasn't asked to do anything with them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I got back to Anne to clarify my objective just to make sure that I was supposed to be delegating this task, something or someone had already got to her because the very mention of Sue's name was enough to send her into an apoplectic seizure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its quite simple! Just choose a member of staff and ask them to record the stats. That's why I am a Manager and why you are where you are. And you're staying that way too," Anne said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like management motivational techniques to get me going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115860393721807364?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115860393721807364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115860393721807364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115860393721807364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115860393721807364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/monday-food-chain.html' title='Monday - The Food Chain'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115834860418508603</id><published>2006-09-15T20:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T20:30:04.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Style Council</title><content type='html'>Anne made it very clear today that she did not like the crew-collared earthy-hued jumpers that everyone is wearing at the moment. Emerging bear like from her cave to ask Gary to get her some drinks, she worryingly claimed that it was some sort of conspiracy against her. Anne I might add, was still in her usual black smock that in a previous life had hosted a trapeze act and performing elephants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not a conspiracy," Dan said. "Its just fashion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, for dress down day, everyone is going to wear a green coloured top. I've already pressed mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115834860418508603?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115834860418508603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115834860418508603&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115834860418508603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115834860418508603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/friday-style-council.html' title='Friday - Style Council'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115822183703362500</id><published>2006-09-14T08:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T22:12:59.733+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Conspiracy Theory</title><content type='html'>Gareth's being paranoid again. Several times today he's claimed that the reason the company is cracking down on absenteeism is to find reasons to sack people so that they don't have to pay out as much on redundancy when they make us all redundant. Which Gareth claims is imminent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's also told Ted that he should be worried as the new age discrimination laws come in soon and the company may decide to retire him before he can sue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I challenged him immediately on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So why would the CEO tell you all of this instead of his department heads and managers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth shuffled off with his tail between his legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may think the company is a lot of things, but I don't believe in this amoral corporate entity. It's too ineffective for that. I think that people judge others by their own standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later Jo booked Friday afternoon off. Her fifteenth this year. She has to prepare for her weekend on the town. Unfortunately Anne noticed. She's already made comment of the fact that she doesn't like staff taking odd days here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The staff handbook says that staff should take a least one two week holiday a year," She said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because it insists on staff having a full break to recharge," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. It's actually so that we can find out if anyone is defrauding the company. You can check what people are up to when they've been off for a long time. Staff who are committing fraud usually don't take any time off to cover their tracks. My source in HR told me this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really? " I said. "HR told you that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. " Anne said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"HR told you that this is recommended in the staff handbook to cut down on fraud?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she said again. "But not openly. Not as such. But I can read between the lines. I know what they really meant." Anne said with a sly nudge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115822183703362500?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115822183703362500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115822183703362500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115822183703362500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115822183703362500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/thursday-conspiracy-theory.html' title='Thursday - Conspiracy Theory'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115822061326408137</id><published>2006-09-14T08:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T08:56:53.276+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - A Farewell to Arms</title><content type='html'>The conversations the team has!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted had watched 'Touching the Void' the other night and took delight in telling the team every gruesome detail.  This led Gareth to recount the news item from a while back about the climber who'd trapped his arm under a rock and had then hacked it off using a penknife to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team was split into those who would be able to do the same and those who just couldn't do it. There was then some debate as to what people would be willing to lose - apparently,  little toes score very lowly as bodily parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What appendages would you cut off to avoid death?" Dan asked Jez when he wandered into the vicinity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Any of yours," was Jez's reply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115822061326408137?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115822061326408137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115822061326408137&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115822061326408137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115822061326408137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/wednesday-farewell-to-arms.html' title='Wednesday - A Farewell to Arms'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115800574589588060</id><published>2006-09-11T19:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T21:15:45.976+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - The 'M' word</title><content type='html'>Dan's smelly stalker has left the building after one very honest phone call to the Agency. The girl on the end of the line seemed resigned to the fact that Sue was incapable of keeping hold of temporary work with an indefinite finish date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that "She wasn't really suited to our working environment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agency girl just sighed and said "Did you have to talk to her about her hygiene? I keep telling her about this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've now provided Anne with a list of Sue's duties as she requested in readiness for the next temp to stand before the firing line.  That didn't stop Gary - now officially signed to PROJECTS - from approaching me while he crossed the last of his Customer Service Team tasks from his 'to do list' to request the same information for Anne. I politely explained that I'd already emailed this information to her, to which Gary suggested that I give it to him again just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After giving him the info (again) we chatted about his new role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is now a New Markets Business Project Manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easily the M word is thrown at job titles.  All my friends are managers of various degrees. Even the man who cleans the toilets is referred to in his job description as Bathroom Hygiene Manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its strange how something as superficial and meaningless as the semantics of a title can mean so much to people. If only the Peasants in the Wat Tyler Revolt had been given the job description of 'Earth Production Managers' then maybe history would have been slightly different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne, of course believes the opposite, and is keen to make sure that our staff have titles that accurately reflect their lowly status in the food chain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115800574589588060?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115800574589588060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115800574589588060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115800574589588060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115800574589588060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/monday-m-word.html' title='Monday - The &apos;M&apos; word'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115748348757110970</id><published>2006-09-05T19:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T22:04:03.960+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Women Scorned</title><content type='html'>Kate sat with Jo at lunchtime and helped her to trawl through Jo's drawer of celebrity gossip magazines for cheating liars. Every paparazzi'd photo of male stardom was categorised either as a Bastard, Prat or 'probably up to something, just hasn't been caught yet'. A month ago they would have been drooling over Jude Law, David Beckham and Ewan MacGregor - now the stars faced the unflinching judicial scrutiny of Dave's cast offs. How unforgiving the memory of women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course it it had been the other way around , it would have still been the man's fault," I said standing up for my gender where Dan, Ted and Gareth wouldn't dare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They just flicked me a look that would have had Medusa green with envy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne has had enough of Sue the Smelly Temp with a Dan fixation. She's called the agency and told them that her services are no longer required and then asked me for a list of her daily tasks so that we can cover her work when she goes. I handed her the full roster of Sue's duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that it? That's all she does? Are you sure you haven't missed anything? You are a man after all. I would expect it," She said in a condescending way that was her idea of a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You woman are all the same," I said in a playful mood. "Always generalising!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne cast me a stoney look that clearly indicated I'd just stepped over the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to get home to the gf tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115748348757110970?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115748348757110970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115748348757110970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115748348757110970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115748348757110970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/tuesday-women-scorned.html' title='Tuesday - Women Scorned'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115740156745169193</id><published>2006-09-04T20:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T21:41:12.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Dissent in the Ranks</title><content type='html'>Gareth's become very agressive lately. I held a long overdue team meeting today to hammer home to the team Anne's usual points of contention. Whereas before timesheets had too much detail, now she finds that there isn't enough information on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't see why we have to complete timesheets. Does Anne have to fill in a timesheet when she works?" said Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne's reply to her team leaders would have simply been- I'm the manager. I don't need to justify my time to you. - but I couldn't have told the team less I risk being strung up from the aircon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The timesheets are needed to measure quantifiable workflow processes. Anne's role is to oversee processes and identify best working practices. You couldn't really measure her work with a timesheet," I told the team. I felt quite pleased with my snappy on-the-spot response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I still don't see why she can't complete a time sheet. She could have a section for shouting a people. One for making people feel small and insignificant." Gareth continued unwilling to submit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another one for name dropping board members as if they were her best friends in phone conversations to other department heads," Added Jo in an uncharacteristically accurate observation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne should complete a timesheet every day just as we have to," said Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look," I said reasonably. "The only person who could assess Anne's use of her time is Des and he hasn't asked Anne to complete a timesheet. Anne is our boss and she wants use to complete them. Until Des asks Anne to do the same, it just isn't going to happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team accepted my answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meeting I pulled Kate to one side to speak to her after returning to us from Jez's team. I asked her how she felt about rejoining my bunch of misfits after a brief moment in the ascendancy of Team Jez. I almost apologised to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. It's okay," Kate said. "Jez is alright but they don't get much work done," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all I could do to stop myself from pumping my fist Tim Henman style. I was on a roll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115740156745169193?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115740156745169193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115740156745169193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115740156745169193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115740156745169193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/monday-dissent-in-ranks.html' title='Monday - Dissent in the Ranks'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115729872957289674</id><published>2006-09-03T16:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T16:52:09.583+01:00</updated><title type='text'>New Look Site!</title><content type='html'>At last I've got around to rejigging the site, I hope you enjoy the 'new bluey-ish look'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also taken the opportunity to add in some links that you may find interesting/relevant/funny. If it's your first time here then please make use of the Induction Course - the blog won't make sense otherwise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're here looking for a different kind of slavery - and you know who you are - please hit that back button immediately!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115729872957289674?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115729872957289674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115729872957289674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115729872957289674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115729872957289674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-look-site.html' title='New Look Site!'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115713500647042527</id><published>2006-09-01T18:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T16:57:54.356+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Control Freak</title><content type='html'>Gary's been moved to Projects! Projects with a capital 'P'. This is bad news for Gary, although the emailed announcement puts the usual positive spin on the news about it being a transfer to utilise his knowledge and expertise, everyone really knows that a move to Projects is just a sideways shuffle closer to the exit. Already Anne is making noises about getting an new Assistant Manager in to replace him. Experience tells me we'll be collecting for Gary's leaving card soon. On the upside, Kate is coming back into my team, although I don't know how she will view this as she's been holidaying in Camp Jez for the past few weeks. I'll await her reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne was moaning about the standard of clothing for dress-down Friday. She's now drawn up a list of 'guidelines' for us to issue to the workers. They are;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Jeans can be worn but must not have any holes, slashes or large textual designs.&lt;br /&gt;2) Men must wear smart casual attire. eg Polo-shirts, tailored shirts with collars.&lt;br /&gt;3) Women must wear clothing that covers the upper arms and must not show an excessive amount of flesh ie: cleavage.&lt;br /&gt;4) There can be absolutely no: trainers, baseball caps, hoodies, shorts, crop tops, miniskirts, flip-flops or leggings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The upshot of this now is that dress-down Friday is just a normal day with jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once started, Anne couldn't stop and inspired by her dress-down dress code she posted an email with more 'house-rules'. It continued,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Staff can only have one personal photograph on their desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Staff can no longer use their mobile phones in the canteen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth cut out some pictures of the CEO and pasted them over his workstation in response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why can't we use our mobile phones in the canteen?" Jo complained. "Anne uses her mobile all the time in the office."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's because Anne has a company mobile," I told her repeating corporate mantra. "She only takes work related calls and you make calls to find out what time your mates will be at Yates' Wine Lodge."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115713500647042527?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115713500647042527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115713500647042527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115713500647042527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115713500647042527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/09/friday-control-freak.html' title='Friday - Control Freak'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115705479060677122</id><published>2006-08-31T20:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T21:06:30.650+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - The X Factor</title><content type='html'>Jo came in today wearing something that - as Dan described it - 'looked like something that his Nana would use as a cushion,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're always getting at me," Jo retorted. "You laugh at the things I do. Calling me Nicki. You made fun of my boyfriend and think that he's a git." She said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. We don't think he's a git," I told her in my most concerned supervisory tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not seeing him anymore," Jo said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok," said Gareth. "Actually he is a git then. We always thought he was."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You could do better than him," added Ted. Dan looked hopeful. The look on his face faded when Sue emerged from Jez's team. Her arm was in a plastercast. The result of a longwinded incident involving one of her cats, some worming tablets and a swivel chair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's a funny smell coming from my PC," She told me eyeing up Kate's empty desk expectantly. This was a strange excuse from a woman to whom I'd had to explain the use of deoderant in a civilised society. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her to tell Jez, but he was in a meeting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to use it in case it electrocutes me or summat," She said (Sue was from Leeds)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to show her to Kate's empty desk but saw the look of extreme panic in Dan's eyes. I found another desk away from our team. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You ever upset me and I'm requesting that she's transfered to our team," I told Dan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115705479060677122?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115705479060677122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115705479060677122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115705479060677122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115705479060677122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/thursday-x-factor.html' title='Thursday - The X Factor'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115688555705498080</id><published>2006-08-29T21:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T19:34:29.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Damage Limitation</title><content type='html'>Sue the temp - yes, she's still here - claimed that her PC was making a funny buzzing noise today. She was reluctant to sit at her desk in case the screen exploded and gave her a number of unwanted piercings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez was on manoeuvres so I sat her in the Kate's old desk opposite Dan. For the rest of the afternoon, Sue battered Dan with a torrent of banal chatter about her dog, her mum and all of the accidents she keeps having. No wonder she was worried about the screen. She seemed to have taken a shine to Dan, much in the same way that a puppy likes to slobber over an old slipper. I phoned the helpdesk to get them to look into her buzzing PC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary summoned me to his desk. "Anne's asked me to have a word with you," He said. I knew it must be bad because Anne always asked Gary to have a word when she was very, very, very, very angry and didn't want to do ten years for manslaughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You raised an IT request a couple of weeks ago," Gary continued. I nodded. "The thing is, I, and Anne need to understand this IT request. And IT need to know who authorised it in this department."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I authorised it. I've got departmental self-authorisation for up to £1000 spend. It's normal team leader authority level."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But who gave you that authority?" Asked Gary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne did. She asked for it because she was fed up of having to authorise all IT requests herself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah. Right," Said Gary. "Anne wants to see all IT requests in future. Before you authorise them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So she wants to authorise them again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. You can still authorise them but Anne needs to see them first. And agree that they can be authorised."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I understood what had happened. "This has all come about because of my complaints about IT not meeting with their service standards isn't it. Someone has started asking these questions to deflect attention away from their department and focus it on something completely inconsequential,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know the ins and outs of the background of this," said Gary. "But Anne's asked that you don't do anything, or say anything, to anyone outside this department that may draw any sort of attention to us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115688555705498080?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115688555705498080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115688555705498080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115688555705498080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115688555705498080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/tuesday-damage-limitation.html' title='Tuesday - Damage Limitation'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115636498873846830</id><published>2006-08-23T21:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T21:29:48.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Viewing Habits</title><content type='html'>Big Brother is finally off the air so no  longer do I have to put up with Ms Wage-Slave's 10 PM Channel 4 obsession but I also don't have to put up with Jo, Dan and Gareth bleating on about who they want to win every morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My relief this week has been shortlived. 'Love Island' has replaced conversation about how mad Nicky is (See I even know their names!) and Jo has reminded me that a new series of X-Factor began on Saturday so I have to endure yet more of Simon Cowell cruelly destroying the hopes of untalented people who clearly appear to have quite severe learning disabilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started socialising in the canteen with Ted. Despite the age gap I worry that I have more in common with him than the others. He is giving me grumbling lessons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115636498873846830?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115636498873846830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115636498873846830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115636498873846830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115636498873846830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/wednesday-viewing-habits.html' title='Wednesday - Viewing Habits'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115631536042920041</id><published>2006-08-23T07:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T09:30:42.870Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Easy to  do business with</title><content type='html'>The new corporate buzz phrase is that 'we're easy to do business with' and the now ubiquitous phrase can be found in company magazines, promotional literature, advertising guff and on the toilet rolls in the company washrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own dealings, however, as a member of the company, and technically, an insider with assumed inside knowledge, have been far from easy. My encounter with Eastern Europe is a case in point. If even I can't get through to the right person in the corporation and am subjected to the 'one-way system' of telephonic technology, what hope is there for Distressed of Ealing? The inhouse phone directory was a dead-end, a friendly voice cutting me off after announcing that 'the person I need is not available right now. Please call again later.' and switchboard could not put me through because 'all lines to that department are now routed to the Baltic Sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My day was made worse by a friendly little email from the IT department stating that my IT request was now complete and had been closed. I opened my desktop and sure enough there was a new and shiny little icon just waiting to be clicked. But clicking on it only brought about a sudden snarl of agression from the PC , that unwelcome miskeyed chord that microsoft windows loves so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You do not have the required access for this application. Please see your system administrator.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously IT were wrong and the IT request had not been completed. I phoned the number given in the email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh no,' said the officious IT request minion. "'Your IT request did not specify that you wanted to be able to use the application. You just requested the application on your desktop,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well what do you think I wanted it there for? To make the desktop look pretty? Of course I wanted to use it,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Not on the request,' said the IT drone, knowing that if he could keep me from reinstating the IT request that there would be one less IT request on the outstanding IT request backlog report. 'If you want to use the application you'll have to complete a new IT request,' He said smugly. 'There's a 10 working day service level standard.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Match point to IT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115631536042920041?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115631536042920041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115631536042920041&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115631536042920041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115631536042920041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/tuesday-easy-to-do-business-with.html' title='Tuesday - Easy to  do business with'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115567234006540858</id><published>2006-08-15T20:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T21:05:40.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Passage to Poland</title><content type='html'>As part of further investigation into 'Arrogant man's' complaint, I had to phone the Head Underwriting Office. Unfortunately a number of our most basic functions have been outsourced to the newly EU'd up Eastern European neighbours to 'improve customer service' under the new macho, Leopard Project. - Why do these project sponsors give them such agressive titles. Do they believe that they're really spies working for MI6? A reality check is needed urgently -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the external number for our Manchester office, an 0870 number, given to customers so that they can be happy in the fact that they are charged to phone up and complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone was answered, I needed to speak to a woman called Emma who had apparently dealt with 'arrogant man' before matters had escalated to their current meltdown status and 'arrogant man' started worrying about God jumping the queue in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodafternoon. Youarethroughto'Michael', IamacustomerservicesrepresentativeintheCustomerServicesdepartment. MayIhaveapolicynumberplease?" Said a heavily accented voice that sounded as if he was auditioning for a school play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need to speak to Emma - Can you put me through to her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This obviously threw 'Michael'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm-sorry-may-I-have-your-policy-number-please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not about a policy. I need to speak to Emma in the Head Underwriters,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm-sorry," Michael said. I hadn't stuck to the script and he couldn't handle it. "I-am-not-able-to-understand-your-request. Please-can-you-provide-me-with-a-policy-number-so-that-I-may-assist-you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  "My name is Luke Willshire from the Company Complaints team in ---. I'm trying to get through to the Manchester Head Underwriting. Am I through to Gdansk?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Michael' seemed to relax a bit more now. "Which-department-does-he-work-in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Manchester Head Underwriting," I said patiently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. In which department does he work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry. I'll try sonething else," I told 'Michael'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rang off and phoned through to switchboard. These ladies knew everything. I had a sneaky suspicion that they were the real controllers of the company. I explained my dilemma and asked if they could transfer me to Manchester Head Underwriting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang. Someone answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Goodafternoonyouarethroughto'Simon'Iamacustomerservicesrepresentativeincustomerserviceshowmayihelpyou?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115567234006540858?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115567234006540858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115567234006540858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115567234006540858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115567234006540858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/tuesday-passage-to-poland.html' title='Tuesday - Passage to Poland'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115558487142729932</id><published>2006-08-14T20:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T02:54:46.616+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday (again) - Suspicions about Anne</title><content type='html'>I'm getting really slack at keeping the blog up to date for which I can only apologise. The trouble is I have too much real life going on at the moment and sometimes writing this makes me feel like I'm just living all of the bad bits - twice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed a couple of things about Anne. Maybe I'm a bit slow but it seems that Jez, and anyone in his team can do no wrong. It doesn't matter how little Anne thought of them prior to joining his team, once they're in they're angels. Kate is a case in point. I had to battle to get her efforts recognised when she was in my team. Now she's in Jez's, she only has to turn up and she's employee of the month. But it doesn't stop there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my run in with 'the most arrogant man in the world' last week. I had to provide Anne with a full investigation of the incidents leading up to his complaint. I can't go into detail here but it is partly although not entirely connected to a failure of one of our accounting processes. I explained this to Anne on my brief. She didn't believe me. She asked me questions about the account process.  I answered them and explained exactly how it works and why in this case it didn't for this customer.  She took my file and shooed me out of her cave, thanking me, but only as an afterthought from her 'getting the best from your employees training module.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overheard her putting the same questions to Jez a short while later, and Jez, knowing the same about processes as I do, gave her exactly the same answers that I did. With one difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She believed Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it that I don't sound convincing? Does my nose grow and spout leaves when I talk to people? Why wouldn't Anne believe me but listen to Jez even though he is saying the same thing that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It appears to both me and Tracey (I caught her crying after one nasty run-in with her earlier) that Anne judges people by her own perception of them rather than the reality. As a result, in Anne's mind, Jez is a hard-working, strong willed, disciplanarian who really brings his team on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my view, Jez is a bolshy slacker, who does what he can to appease his team members (ie; long lunches, leave agreed whenever they want it without department needs considered) and then &lt;br /&gt;blags everything the rest of the time. But my view doesn't count. I'm not signing the appraisals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the most successful people in the company are the biggest bullshitters, someone had better have a large shovel handy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115558487142729932?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115558487142729932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115558487142729932&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115558487142729932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115558487142729932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/monday-again-suspicions-about-anne.html' title='Monday (again) - Suspicions about Anne'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115446021808845886</id><published>2006-08-01T19:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T21:58:54.700+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - The most arrogant man in the world</title><content type='html'>We live in a 24 hour, want-it-now, customer-is-always-right society and it shows in the attitudes of some of our callers. I have been threatened with Watchdog, the severest of letters to MP's and even on one occassion 'to be sorted out' when I left the office, but most of the time its just a nod and a wink and a 'what can you do for me? '. Because everyone knows, if you don't complain, you don't get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we're in the wrong, its easy to deal with, apologise profusely, offer some sort of compensation - not neccessarily monetary, but if we're not then that's a different story. I've known of customers who've lost their houses and families through the most monumental corporate cock-ups and then apologise to us for inconveniencing us when they call in six months later to chase things up and then others who'll demand thousands of pounds in compensation because we've got an extra 'e' in their surname. Even though it was copied from their own handwritten proposal form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to today's subject - Mr Arrogantarse - yes, you know who you are. No use hiding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted called me over to his desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've got someone who insists on speaking to a team leader," Ted said. I nodded and switched into sympathetic but firm senior staff member mode and took the handset from Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello. My name is Luke Willshire. I'm Ted's team leader, how may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you a manager?" The voice asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a team leader," I said foolishly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I asked for a manager." His voice started to increase in pitch as if someone was winding him up. "I specifically asked for a manager. I don't believe this company,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am Ted's direct line manager,"  said hoping to placate the caller.  wasn't going to argue semantics and the corporate heirarchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to speak to you. I asked for the most senior manager there. Are you the most senior person in your office?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could have gone two ways. I could have blagged it as other colleagues have done but this could backfire and badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. But I am the best person to help you with your enquiry. If you could tell me what it is about then -"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not good enough. I want to speak to the most senior manager. I want to speak to them now. I don't want to talk to you. You are not a manager."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had enough of Anne telling me this everyday. Now the customers were too. Anne was in her cave scowling at bar charts whilst loading a heavy duty salmon and cream-cheese bagel into her mouth. Gary was at his desk reading e-mails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm afraid the manager is on the phone at the moment," I said. "Could you tell me what this is in realtion to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is his name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne Sullivan," I said. She wouldn't be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well she better be speaking to God because only he is more important than me," said the caller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will get her to call you back," I said thinking that I could give her some breathing space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As soon as she is off the phone," the caller said and then hung up the phone. I didn't get his name or number. Was he that arrogant - or stupid to believe that we knew exactly who he was or what his number was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked with Ted to see if he had any more information. He didn't. The only thing he'd said was that he wanted to speak to a manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You could always tell Anne that Jesus called and she knows where he is," said Dan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115446021808845886?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115446021808845886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115446021808845886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115446021808845886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115446021808845886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/08/tuesday-most-arrogant-man-in-world.html' title='Tuesday - The most arrogant man in the world'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115393819115229020</id><published>2006-07-26T18:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T19:23:11.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Smelly Temp</title><content type='html'>Emailed instructions from Anne today as she was away at Head Office: 1- Make sure that backlog's cleared.  2-Keep phone levels at 95% 3- Deal with Jez's temp hygiene problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to reread the third instruction three times before it sank in. She wasn't referring to Dave but Jez's other temp - Sue. Sitting over the other side of the office I wasn't aware that she had a hygiene problem and as she was Jez's temp I couldn't understand why I had to deal with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trouble is how do you approach something like that? Just tell them they smell? Suggest they use deoderant? What if it's due to a medical condition? I don't want to hurt the woman's feelings and she always looks likes shes about to burst into tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prepared my interview with her and plan exactly what I'm going to say. I even prepared responses to anticipated replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Sue into a meeting room, the odour was like a solid wall. I could have chewed on it if I'd dared to breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sue," I began. "I've been asked to speak to you -"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I could finish she interupted me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh sorry have I forgotten to spray again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry I was in such a rush this morning. Can I nip out to Boots and sort myself out?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no alternative but to let her go. Surprisingly she returns and balsts her pits in the middle of the office without any hint of embarrassment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you sort out Gareth's wind problem as well," Suggests Ted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115393819115229020?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115393819115229020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115393819115229020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115393819115229020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115393819115229020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/wednesday-smelly-temp.html' title='Wednesday - Smelly Temp'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115385763886383054</id><published>2006-07-25T20:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T19:24:13.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - PC's of Fire</title><content type='html'>The quiet of the day was broken by a scream from Jo's desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My PC's on fire," she told me in a panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'd moved the base unit to free up some wires that had snagged at the back and had noticed an orange flame behind the grille at the back of the PC. I got to it just before Dan had thrown a cup of water over the machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick check revealed no smoke or burning and the orange glow was merely the result of an LED quietly doing its job and letting us know that the connection it monitored was indeed connected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No Jo, I don't think you're stupid." I said pre-empting her usual wail, "It is better to be safe than sorry and anyone could have made the same mistake."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115385763886383054?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115385763886383054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115385763886383054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115385763886383054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115385763886383054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/tuesday-pcs-of-fire.html' title='Tuesday - PC&apos;s of Fire'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115376998270504851</id><published>2006-07-24T20:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T19:26:53.390+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Dan's Free Scotch Egg of Doom</title><content type='html'>Only two days to go until IT have passed their SLA for delivery of my IT request. Of course I've not heard any thing from them on it since my last heated discussion with them. I suspect that no one has looked at it yet and it is probably won't be until the SLA has passed. To IT, the term 'Action by' translates as 'Instigate action on'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne told us how lucky we were to have her as a boss this morning. Gary is looking more and more drawn with each passing day. I believe he may regret his decision to join this company and leave the service of his last employer. Anne has already started to drop hints about getting a troubleshooter in to sort our problems out. She seems to have forgotten that that was Gary's role when he joined us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To cheer myself up I found myself tagging along with the staff on a foray at lunchtime. It wasn't that I deliberately went out with them, Dan and Gareth just happened to be walking in the same direction for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite educational. Their greatest daily obstacle was endeavouring to make sure that they didn't miss any of the scantily clad women that seem to flood the streets when the temperature rose. They taught me how to forage for food from the freebie promotional people that occassionally hung around on the High Street. Yesterday it had been some tinned fruit drink that contained less citric acid and sodium benzoate than usual fruit flavoured soft-drinks but was made with almost 25% real fruit extract. Dan told me that after eighteen of those bad boys he'd spent most of yesterday afternoon on the toilet. Today it was a new scotch egg based snack that those other wage slaves with less pride than I queued up for at the stand put up for the promotional campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth and Dan nabbed twenty between them. I just got the two from the girls that pressed them into my hands as I passed. We saw Dave trying on his cheeky cockney charm with one of the promotional girls. He gave her his number promising that 'he'd show her a good time,'. He then saw us and then kept muttering that 'there were gonna be repercussions'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the office Jo told us how she was such a good judge of character. Dan politely ate his scotch-egg based snack without saying a word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115376998270504851?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115376998270504851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115376998270504851&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115376998270504851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115376998270504851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/monday-dans-free-scotch-egg-of-doom.html' title='Monday - Dan&apos;s Free Scotch Egg of Doom'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115273094097154551</id><published>2006-07-12T19:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T06:12:32.683+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Greener grass</title><content type='html'>The battle of the IT request continues. After yesterday's fiasco I completed another online form. For good measure I phoned up the team in Glasgow to stress that it was treated as priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We cannot escalate it yet," The voice on the end of the phone told me. "It hasn't passed its service level standard yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the service level standard?" I asked foolishly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ten working days,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So if its urgent I can't get it prioritised until its too late?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. That's not what I said. You cannot escalate this IT request until it is over its SLA."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So this should be complete in 10 working days then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Of course. It should be complete in 10 working days," The voice on the phone replied. His tone didn't fill me with confidence and I got the distinct impression that he kept putting me on mute to update his laughing colleagues about my naievity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the team, discussion was about the XYZ company that was currently sponsoring a massive recruitment drive. According to Gareth, they paid twice as much, had double the amount of holidays, better company perks, a staff gym that was free to use and provided a free bar for anyone working the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan joined in. He'd heard that they organised fully paid weekends away for staff at Alton Towers and Eurodisney. At lunchtime they'd both arranged to visit the agency advertising their vacancies and sign themselves up. The rumour spread across the office and soon most of the floor had visited the agency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne wondered what was wrong. I told her that morale was low at the moment due to our rapidly increasing workloads. I couldn't tell her that all of her staff were deserting her for our biggest competitor. She was in a lighter mood than normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've just the solution," she said. She left the office with her handbag, unusual for daylight hours, to return half an hour later. Put these out for everyone," she said handing me four packets of chocolate 'Hob Nobs'. She almost winked at me as if she was some sort of magical chocolate biscuit fairy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That'll reduce staff turnover I thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115273094097154551?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115273094097154551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115273094097154551&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115273094097154551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115273094097154551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/wednesday-greener-grass.html' title='Wednesday - Greener grass'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115264758028360512</id><published>2006-07-11T20:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T21:38:18.293+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - IT Request Table Tennis</title><content type='html'>Surpisingly, there has been no fall-out from Jez about the inappropriately misdirected email. I've just played innocent and told him I was only following his request to email the team. How was I to know that he didn't want me to send the entire history of our discussion to Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to another point. How come Anne didn't pick him up on his monthly reports absence? Tracey seems to think that she has it in for us and whatever we do will always be wrong, but I, perhaps naievely, believed that surely someone in Anne's position of authority would not behave so unprofessionally. Maybe she's not being so paranoid after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started the usual fun and games that begins with every request from IT for anything remotely to do with access or ID's. I've been lumbered with it as Tracey, Jez and I have been batting it to each other in the hope that someone else would do it. because, to be honest with you, the process is as much fun as extracting your own tongue with a blowtorch. I got stuck with this one as both Tracey and Jez have completed the last two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The process starts with the completion of an online form which is sent to IT in Glasgow. There a mandarin, queries it, refers it and if you're lucky will then authorise it. From there it will be passed to various teams around the world in India, Ireland and eventually back to Glasgow. With any luck you'll end up with a completed IT request within the agreed service standards. This has never, ever been known to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to let the process defeat me. I would face it head on like a matador to a bull. I phoned the Glasgow office in the afternoon. That would have given them the few hours that they would have needed to at least authorise the request.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise I was told that the request had been rejected. The reason - that there was a piece of information missing from the five gig request that I'd completed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why didn't you phone me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had but had been unable to get an answer and so they'd closed the request.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have voice mail, why didn't you leave a message?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minion I was speaking to couldn't answer. His notes just said that I could not be contacted. I offered to provide the missing information but it was to no avail. They would not and could not reopen a closed request. I would have to start the entire process again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First point to the IT request team.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115264758028360512?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115264758028360512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115264758028360512&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115264758028360512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115264758028360512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/monday-it-request-table-tennis.html' title='Monday - IT Request Table Tennis'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115203974513339079</id><published>2006-07-04T19:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T05:47:46.470+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Shot by your own side</title><content type='html'>Email from Jez Sansom to Luke Willshire:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne is a bit concerned that the month-end reports have been moved from the Monthly Report folder on the network drive. Have you (accidentally) moved the files?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Luke to Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't moved any files from the folder. I've just checked and my reports for last month are there, as are Tracey's. It appears that its yours that are missing and I haven't moved them. Where did you save them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Jez to Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure of the exact date. But they're not there now and Anne seems to think that stuff is being moved by unauthorised persons so I need to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Luke to Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you check your history you should be able to see where they were saved. Or you could ask IT to extract the files from the backup tapes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Jez to Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think they'll find anything. Can you just email the teams and let them know that they must not move any files from the network drive.  Make sure you cc Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Luke back to Jez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will do but I don't think anyone has moved your files. They all know that the network drive is off limits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reply from Jez back to Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not have completed my month end reports.  But if you could just email the team advising them not to move or delete any files from the Network drive as originally requested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Email to All Staff from Luke. cc to Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please make sure that none of you delete or move any files from the network drive with immediate effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Email from Jez to Luke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for sending that email to all staff and Anne. It appears you accidentally included the entire history of the emails at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Email from Luke to Jez,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops. Sorry Jez - it was an accident.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115203974513339079?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115203974513339079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115203974513339079&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115203974513339079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115203974513339079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/07/tuesday-shot-by-your-own-side.html' title='Tuesday - Shot by your own side'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115161566873996604</id><published>2006-06-29T21:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T22:14:28.806+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Whipping Boy</title><content type='html'>Anne was in her angry spot this morning, berating Gary, but loudly so that everyone knew she was doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Several end of month reports are conspicuous by their absence," She said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary - who seems to be getting smaller and smaller and quieter and quieter by the day - answered: "Whose reports? They were all supposed to be in on the second day of the month,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Luke and Tracey," Anne replied. Now I knew this was wrong. I'd completed mine within the deadline. It had been sitting in the reports folder - waiting to be signed off by Anne, which by rights she had to do by the third day of the month - and obviously hadn't. I couldn't speak for Tracey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily Gary was on the ball. He told Anne that they'd both been completed and were waiting for Anne's sign-off. Anne deflated like a beach ball but it was only momentarily. She pumped herself up again even bigger than before as her fight reflex kicked in. "Well they're not where they should be. I'm fed up with people moving folders around on the network. I seriously think that we should start to restrict peoples access rights on some areas. Don't worry. I'll track the reports down. I'll find them," She said to Gary as she boldly marched back to her cave, huffing and puffing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez wandered over. "Did Anne say something about the monthly reports?" He whispered to me casually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah. I better do mine then," he said and returned to his desk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115161566873996604?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115161566873996604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115161566873996604&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115161566873996604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115161566873996604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/thursday-whipping-boy.html' title='Thursday - Whipping Boy'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115153013495764528</id><published>2006-06-28T22:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T15:56:28.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Think of the money</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I just feel like I'm griping all the time. I don't mean to be so negative, its just that - well - it's a pretty crap deal isn't it, spending most of your life in an office while people that you don't particularly like and don't even rate, order you about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the bright side at least I'm not one of the staff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gf thinks that I'm just exagerating and than it isn't really that bad. I suppose in the scheme of things it isn't. But selfishly I just know things could be so much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wandered through town at lunch, taking a rare break away from the desk and considered how much worse things could be. There were the usual chuggers*, smiling brightly at people, despite the half-mile exclusion zone around them that developed the instant lunchtime workers and shoppers see the coloured bib and clipboard heading in their direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the man holding the 'Umbrella Sale' sign - I mean how crap can that job be? A sign holder. Is that something that you choose to do. Did some careers advisor suggest this as a worthwhile occupation? What would the qualifications be? Can you stand still for seven hours - tick. Hold a sign with your left hand - tick. Both hands - overqualified!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to talk to the sign-man and tell him that things would be all right. I wanted to tell him that I respected his rights as a person and not another piece of human street furniture. But I didn't. I walked on by and didn't even take a detour through his recommended umbrella sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*charity mugger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115153013495764528?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115153013495764528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115153013495764528&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115153013495764528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115153013495764528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/wednesday-think-of-money.html' title='Wednesday - Think of the money'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115104375105841391</id><published>2006-06-23T06:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T22:37:13.766+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - I Know Best</title><content type='html'>Our backlogs are getting larger by the day. This isn't help by Anne's genius strategy of focusing on the time-consuming older complaints. After all if you've got a 2000 item backlog and want to get rid of it, why clear 200 items a day when you can clear 20 difficult items even though we are receiving 50 new ones daily? You do the maths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course Anne and Gary do not see this and if I try to explain this to them, they just exclaim "that we have to do it," and then threaten "the severest of implications" if we don't. Anne then started bemoaning the low volume of calls processed by the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're averaging 10 calls a day each," Anne said. Although I was in the firing line, her aim was at all of the team leaders. "We take 180 calls a day. The average call length is 8 minutes. They only spend 90 minutes on the phone each shift. What are they doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think it was a simplistic as that. This was the problem with bean counters taking over a company. Especially when those bean counters didn't really understand the work they were counting. I felt like Einstein would have done if his bosses had told him that the stars are fires burning behind a black curtain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The calls don't come in all at once. And although the average call length takes 8 minutes, the true amount of time spent on the call is once its over." I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what?" asked Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dare I say it? "Well they have to complete their timesheet to record what they've done for 8 minutes and then log the call on our system. And that's before they even start to deal with the call. Investigating the background, collating the information. Documentation. Making further calls. Calling the customer back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The logs and timesheets have to be completed," said Anne repeating her mantra from the bean counter's bible. It didn't matter if it was right or not. It just had to be done and that was enough. I knew that if I challenged it any more she would suggest that I come up with a better solution. I could. But I don't have time on account of the the bean counting that I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary helpfully tried to help. But didn't really. He had no experience of the work we did or how we did it. He was a boss and could only ever be a boss. Most of the time he kept quiet but sometimes his boss instincts came into play like a teenage hormonal urge forcing him to demonstrate his boss qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Perhaps if the teams' could log the calls when they take them," He said. "That way they'll be doing twice the work in the same amount of time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost offered to insert broomhandles into their rectums as well but I'd already done too much harm to my career in this meeting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115104375105841391?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115104375105841391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115104375105841391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115104375105841391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115104375105841391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/thursday-i-know-best.html' title='Thursday - I Know Best'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115095944876674929</id><published>2006-06-22T07:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T07:57:28.766+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Anne's Blog - 2</title><content type='html'>I've just carried out a few searches on the web. Just in case. I can't find anything that might be Anne's blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it could be out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115095944876674929?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115095944876674929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115095944876674929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115095944876674929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115095944876674929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/annes-blog-2.html' title='Anne&apos;s Blog - 2'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115095931519033900</id><published>2006-06-22T07:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T00:00:05.920+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Anne's Blog</title><content type='html'>After hearing Dan's comment about his own blog I started to wonder who else might have a secret work blog. What if Anne had one? It might go something like this -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Monday - I love running a big department. It's like having a menagerie of pets. Sometimes they're good and I'l give them a little treat if I'm feeling benevolent. Other times they're bad and argue amongst each other over little things like two puppies fighting over a pair of slippers. Luke would probably be the incontinent one. Weeing in the corner when I wasn't looking. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tuesday - I'm so clever. I just astound myself sometimes. I've had a new idea for procedures. I'm bursting to tell everyone about it but I don't want to come over all 'David Brent'. I accuse Gary of being a David Brent in the team leader meeting when he starts waffling for an answer. Just to show everyone that I'm not at all like him. Everyone laughs at my joke. Even Gary. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wednesday - I find evidence that supports my brilliant new procedure procedure. I'm so angry. I stand in my angry spot in the middle of the office and let everyone know how angry I am. As usual some staff don't pay to much attention and try to do things on their computers and talk on the phone as if I'm not important. They should know who the manager is around here. They're probably the guilty ones. I tell everyone about the new procedure that I've designed. I just couldn't hold it in any longer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thursday - I don't believe in being a cold hearted manager. I like to show my quirky humorous side from time to time. It's part of my charm. Luke's team is having a chat about Jo and Dave before they start work. I make a hilarious joke about Jo being a bit of a slapper. They all laugh. I'm so off the wall. They must love working for me!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115095931519033900?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115095931519033900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115095931519033900&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115095931519033900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115095931519033900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/annes-blog.html' title='Anne&apos;s Blog'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-115082968576319307</id><published>2006-06-20T19:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T19:54:31.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Stealth Frivolity</title><content type='html'>I've been a bad blogger - no posts last week mainly due to the anti-bloggin influence of World Cup Football, Sunshine and the Barbeque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No important games tonight! ;-) - so I'm catching up with this week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez took his staff out for a team lunch yesterday. Come 2pm and the phones were ringing off the hooks. The reason, they still hadn't returned and my foursome had to cope with the lines on their own. Of course I could have gone running to Anne and squealed like the little rat that Jez is, but I'm sure you'll know - I'm not that sort of person. Just as I'd be responsible enough to make sure that the team is back to cover after lunch. I'd always consider the impact of this sort of action on the department as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted was fuming. He didn't get a chance to clear up any of his post. Even Jo was steaming. Both complained to me between greetings to customers, the mute buttons used with vigour. Of course when Jez returned, seemingly oblivious to the workloads his left us to deal with, he made no effort to get his team back online as quickly as he could. But we were equals in the eyes of HR. I wouldn't go running to Anne but I would confront him directly and reasonably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jez. We've been a bit short here since 2 because your team was late back," I told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Sorry about that," He said. "It was unavoidable. The food was served late."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But we've been under the kosh here," I added. Jez seemed uninterested. His team, including Kate were still buzzing from their pub lunch. Suddenly I felt like the company man Dave claimed me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If its a problem, just say so," said Jez without any real commitment. "And I'll make sure the team's back on time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony is that Anne was overheard asking Kate if she was being worked harder now that she was in Jez's team. As far as Anne's concerned, Jez can do no wrong and incidents like this don't hit her radar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Gareth, a true rugby man from the valleys, was telling Dan and Ted how he'd watched the Brazil game at the weekend. When challenged about his motives he admited; "Usually there's always some Brazillian girls in the crowd that lift their tops when the camera's on them,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," added Dan. "I was disappointed this time. The only boobs I saw were Ronaldo's when he exchanged shirts at full time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-115082968576319307?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/115082968576319307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=115082968576319307&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115082968576319307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/115082968576319307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/monday-stealth-frivolity.html' title='Monday - Stealth Frivolity'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114957839215500506</id><published>2006-06-06T06:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:07:24.033+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Vorsprung Durch Technik</title><content type='html'>Short shouty bloke has an Audi. He will only use the fast lane of the motorway and anyone foolish enough to drive in the same lane ahead of him will be flashed to pull over so that he can pass. Even if they're doing 90.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's lived in the same house for 20 years. It's in a very dodgy area of town but he's comfortable there because that's where he grew up. He dislikes anyone that he considers 'posh' - which by his definition means someone who doesn't read the Sun - and he spends every single penny of his massive salary - and it is massive - on HD TV's, he now has two for every room in his house, and bingo nights with his family. Anything left over is squandered on lottery tickets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should give him a name - even a fake one, but to be honest with you, I can't really be bothered and short shouty bloke just feels so appropriate. As you will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed a file from our ----town office today. It was a case that they had been dealing with but an escalation of a complaint and a general breakdown of relationship with the customer had meant that it had to be transferred to me to independently investigate each point of the complaint. Short, shouty bloke had an interest in it as it was one of his accounts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd phoned the office and asked for copies of the letters to be faxed down so I could see what had been written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foolishly, I beleived them when they said they'd do it straight away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSB was on my case immediately. "Have you got those letters yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've phoned them. They're faxing them through."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later and they still hadn't arrived on the machine.  I made another call and was told that 'the temp hadn't got round to doing it yet'. I pressed home the urgency of the matter and was again promised that they would be sent immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sonic shockwave blasted through the office proceeding SSB's entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've chased them," I said hoping to head him off at the pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So the top man is on the case," he said sarcastically. "I'll be back in ten,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he left I called the other office again. I pleaded. I begged. I threatened. "This is priority. Please send these letters through immediatley."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My victim on the end of the line recovered enough from the battering I'd given him to say "I'll get them and send them myself. I don't know where the temp has gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished the call with further threats of escalation if he hadn't complied. I namedropped the MD for effect. True to his word SSB was back in the office. He was already tutting before I'd spoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just chased them again. They're sending them as we speak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not good enough. Get back on to them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I just got off -"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I could finish SSB had unholstered his phone - yes, he really had a little pouch for his mobile that hung off his belt - and rang someone of authority. Someone he called Rickus Dickus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rickus Dickus. Yeah. Short Shouty Bloke. This xx complaint. We're still awaiting the fax copies?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point the fax machine started to rumble. It spewed out a white tongue of paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSB killed his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There. That's how you get things done. " said Short Shouty Bloke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell him that the copy he requested from Rickus Dickus came through two hours later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114957839215500506?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114957839215500506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114957839215500506&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114957839215500506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114957839215500506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/06/monday-vorsprung-durch-technik.html' title='Monday - Vorsprung Durch Technik'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114911157261761505</id><published>2006-05-31T22:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T15:23:25.293+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - PG Rating</title><content type='html'>The main topics of conversation for the team today were The England - Hungary game - apparently we've as good as won the World Cup - and Big Brother. I returned from a quick break to grab lunch to find Dan and Gareth trying to emulate Peter Crouch's robot dance celebration, whereas Jo - who had recovered from her illness would grab anyone who passed and then ask them if they thought she was like Nikki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Jo into the interview room to conduct her 'return to work interview'. I asked her the usual questions, adopting the suitable - concerned but not-too-sympathetic tone of voice. Was she ok? Was there anything that we needed to be aware of? She'd had five days off already this year, was it a reoccurring problem? Was there anything that I could do to help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo's responses were - yes, no, it was just a chest infection and - no, see the previous answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course if you have another day sick then we'll have to progress you to next level absence monitoring," I explained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I can't help getting ill," Jo said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're not penalising you for being ill. But if you're not at work you're not as effective as you would be if you were," I said, quoting directly from the absence management training I'd undertaken two years ago. "But if it is something that you can just take an aspirin to help with the symptoms and then come in it would help the 'team'" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So would I go onto next level absence monitoring if I'd been involved in an accident and lost my legs?" Jo asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. That would be an exceptional circumstance," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But what if I contracted bird flu?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Again. Probably exceptional," I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if I got pneumonia?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jo. I can't discuss which diseases are acceptable and which are not. I have to assess each case on its own individual merit," I told her cutting the meeting dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Dan made a suggestion that we get a swear box. Ted had complained that there was too much swearing in the team and he felt it made the team seem uncouth. Dan's imagination was fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We'll have to have different fines for different levels of swearwords," Dan told us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him the question. I wished I hadn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well. B- is worse than F-. So B- should be 10 pence and F- maybe 50p?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan was even more motivated now and spent his whole lunchhour with Jo defining every possible swearword that he could think of and the appropriate fine. Ted astonished us with his repetoire by adding some words that we'd never heard of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the list was complete Gareth took a look over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not joining in with this. I won't pay." He said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him he would as the rest of the team were taking part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His reply cost him £4.75.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114911157261761505?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114911157261761505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114911157261761505&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114911157261761505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114911157261761505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday-pg-rating.html' title='Wednesday - PG Rating'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114906013976265872</id><published>2006-05-31T07:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T08:22:19.773+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - The studmeister</title><content type='html'>"I don't feel too cough cough cough well," said Jo when she called up this morning. She had improved. Her Mum no longer phoned on her behalf and she'd stopped texting in her sick notes. This was however her fifth day off sick since January. One more day and I would have to activate the whirring cogs of the HR Abscence Management Process. The final stages of which meant attendance at a review meeting where I would discuss disciplinary action - not because she was sick - that didn't comply with employment regulations - but as a review of her work performance given as a result of her minimal attendance. It's all in the semantics. Say it often enough and you almost believe it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Jo's absence, Dave strutted around like a rooster in the hen house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright Company man," He greeted me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Ows it goin' monkeyboy," He said to Dan. "That Kate's alright int she." He continued as she walked past. "A bit on the big side but I reckon she's really dirty. If you know what I mean,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you just walk out of a monty python sketch?" I asked him. This was enough to send him scurrying back to his den.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is going in my blog!" said Dan to no-one in particular.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114906013976265872?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114906013976265872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114906013976265872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114906013976265872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114906013976265872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/tuesday-studmeister.html' title='Tuesday - The studmeister'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114871943631399532</id><published>2006-05-27T09:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T08:22:41.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Me, me, me</title><content type='html'>"You need to carry out a massive PR exercise on yourself," Ted began on his last lesson. "Take credit for all the good that you do. Make sure everyone knows about it. Blow your own trumpet. Send emails to the right people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And the bad stuff?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Find someone else to blame. Or better still find some mistakes someone else has made and bring it to the attention of the powers that be so that your faults don't seem so bad. Everything you say and do has one sole aim - to promote you and your career. To move you up the ladder. Forget working for the company. Work for youself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But doesn't that go against all of the company values."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes but do you really think that the people that dreamed them up believe in them? They're just the equivalent of Marxist propaganda. The reality is that everyone you see above you has applied the same guidelines to their careers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted finished his lesson leaving me feeling despondent. There were two levels to this - one that I don't think I'd like to be the sort of person that I'd have to become and two, that was there really that little team work in the higher echelons. And if that was the case, how could anyone ever trust anyone else. I'd be forever feeling my back for the hilt of knives. I was living in the world that the society in the novel 'Brave New World' wanted to prevent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the team Gareth and Dan were working hard at avoiding work, pretending to be drafting responses to complaint letters that they'd already dealt with in the hope that I wouldn't give them any more work. Jo was telling a disinterested Ted all about the characters in Big Brother 7 to which Dan butted in to tell Jo that she was just like Nikki. A number of hurled insults later and I felt a bit better. I wouldn't become the career man that I knew I would despise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114871943631399532?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114871943631399532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114871943631399532&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114871943631399532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114871943631399532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/thursday-me-me-me.html' title='Thursday - Me, me, me'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114850570871446310</id><published>2006-05-24T22:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T22:21:48.726+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Wax on, Wax off part two</title><content type='html'>Ted taught me all about prioritisation today. According to Ted I should prioritise tasks not in order of importance or urgency but by the seniority of the person requesting the work. For example; anything Anne requests, no matter how trivial or unimportant, goes right to the top of the to-do list. The next in line is Jez and then Gary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But surely Gary is senior to Jez?" I asked Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He is but Gary won't go running to Anne when something he's asked for hasn't been done," said Ted. "Seniority is important but don't forget the HWSL factor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"HSWL?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He who shouts loudest," Ted explained. "Who's going to make your life more uncomfortable? You need to appease them. Just pretend that you're feeding a hungry lion to stop it from eating you,"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114850570871446310?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114850570871446310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114850570871446310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114850570871446310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114850570871446310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday-wax-on-wax-off-part-two.html' title='Wednesday - Wax on, Wax off part two'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114841184680622254</id><published>2006-05-23T19:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T03:21:02.643+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Wax on, wax off</title><content type='html'>I used to be sold on the corporate idea and that if you worked hard then you did well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked for a while. For a time I was committed. I could espouse the core company values of Dynamism, Intuition, Servicability and Team work (Teamwork got dropped as a company value when the company closed four offices and laid off 870 staff)  and after a year I was promoted. But things have changed. I wanted to be the best boss ever. I learnt how not to be the best from watching Anne. But now in the company's eyes I'm trailing in the slipstream of Jez's ascendancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted used to be a high flyer in the City. He wants none of it now, but he's become Qui Gonn Jinn to my Obi Wan Kenobi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first lesson is presentation. Forget, doing a good job. Make sure that you're wearing the right suit, the right shoes and keep that chin up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jacket on or off," I ask Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On. always. And make sure that everyone calls you on your mobile and that you use plenty of five syllable words in every sentence,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know that many words with five syllables," I protested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted looked at me pointedly. "And no negative terms. Particularly when referring to yourself,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry. What I meant was - I would certainly be able to articulate to those targets within the alloted timescales,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted smiled. "That's more like it,"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114841184680622254?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114841184680622254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114841184680622254&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114841184680622254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114841184680622254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/tuesday-wax-on-wax-off.html' title='Tuesday - Wax on, wax off'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114841070889686791</id><published>2006-05-23T19:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T03:15:35.833+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Short Bloke</title><content type='html'>Yet another urgent meeting was called. I had to cancel all the work I was doing to clear our backlogs in order to attend a meeting that Anne called to discuss methods of clearing our backlogs. As well as the usual suspects, Short Bloke - one of the sales managers attended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne went through her usual rigmarole of asking how we could get the teams to work harder - that was the problem after all. Jez very helpfully pointed out that his team cleared 500 items last week whereas mine only cleared 350. Of course he failed to mention that he has 10 members in his team and I only have four (Three and half if I really include Dan).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, Gareth's suspicions could be well-founded. Reference was made to the timesheets, followed up by a comment that we need to manage out poor performers. The timesheets are Anne's Weapons of Mass Redundancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There followed an uncomfortable grilling by Anne, Gary and Short Bloke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How many MD complaints can you clear by end of play Friday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well if we are happy to prioritise them over .. " I began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wrong Answer," said Short Bloke smugly. I expected him to make a noise like the display on Family Fortunes when the contestant guessed incorrectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several 'Wrong Answers' later and I looked at the enthused faces of Anne, Short Bloke and to a lesser extent, Gary, and suddenly realised that the dim kids who went to Kindergarten and got excited by shiny paper have done well for themselves. I couldn't get excited by shiny paper because I'd seen it, cut it and pasted it. That was the difference between them and me. Only they could feel that working in middle management in a financial services company was as fulfilling as feeding the starving millions in Africa. I couldn't. That's why they were there and I was opposite them and the words 'Wrong Answer!' was shouted at me the instant I opened my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something has to change. I'm worried that it might be me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114841070889686791?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114841070889686791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114841070889686791&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114841070889686791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114841070889686791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/monday-short-bloke.html' title='Monday - Short Bloke'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114806730392385168</id><published>2006-05-19T20:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T19:01:20.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Follow the procedure</title><content type='html'>I'm back! The engineer has been and fixed the line and (fingers crossed) it will hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The theme for today has been making sure our processes are up to date and fully documented. A visit from audit is imminent and Annes aim is that every time someone takes a pen from the stationery cupboard, everything is logged and processed as according to auditable procedures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has requested help with a task, Anne's head has bobbed up from her hole and she's shouted "Look in the process manual! If it's not there you can't do it,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All week the process manual has become our bible. Everything has to be followed step-by-step to the most minute detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offered to get the team drinks from the machine later and Gareth and Dan asked if I needed the process to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're not joking," Dan said handing me an official looking procedure document that they'd drafted. "Perhaps you could do a dry run to make sure it works,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the procedure and followed the instructions to the letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Take piece of paper - not A4, but A4 cut in half will do&lt;br /&gt;2) Ask each team member for their preferred beverage. Record their choice on piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;3) Find pen to write down choice of drink.&lt;br /&gt;4) If more than 2 people require drinks. Obtain company drink holder from cupboard by forms cabinet.&lt;br /&gt;5) Go to rest room.&lt;br /&gt;6) Press button for drink.&lt;br /&gt;7) Place drink on tray.&lt;br /&gt;8) For each drink on list repeat steps 6 - 7&lt;br /&gt;9) Return to team.&lt;br /&gt;10) If any team members have same drink but one with sugar and one without. Guess which is which and offer drinks to both while saying; "I think this one has sugar(no sugar) in it. If it has(hasn't) give it to -------(insert name)&lt;br /&gt;11. Distribute drinks to rest of team making sure that any team members on a phone call are aware that a piping hot drink has been placed very close to their arm and will make a keyboard very sticky if they move too soon.&lt;br /&gt;12) Return to drinks machine to get own drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114806730392385168?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114806730392385168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114806730392385168&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114806730392385168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114806730392385168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/friday-follow-procedure.html' title='Friday - Follow the procedure'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114772028906584288</id><published>2006-05-15T19:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T21:02:45.463+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Sniper Fire</title><content type='html'>First off - I'd like to mention that I'm continuing to have connection problems. The likely culprit is now the BT phone line, which BT are coming out to fix this week. Hopefully I'll be able to update the blog on more regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off - there is gossip in the team. Jo is going out with Dave, despite the fact that he is a git, Jo has fallen for whatever unseen charms elude the rest of us. In her words - 'He's really sweet underneath it all. You just don't see the real Dave.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan need I say it, is gutted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I however, haven't been paying much attention to the office gossip as I have been too busy ducking from the sniper fire, aimed by Jez in my direction. He's a devious one that Jez. A few well places comments made to certain people when I'm not looking and I'm pinned down in my corner with no defence and no where to run to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of it untrue or is just half the story but it's enough to do damage and as its not said to my face, I have no means to challenge it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could play the same game. I could let slip to Anne about the long lunches, Jez takes on a Friday or the complaints that he's buried or the embellished expense claims but despite what he does, I just cannot bring myself to do it because I don't feel that its fair. Some people might say I'm too soft and I'm doing myself no favours but that's just not my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team's picked up on it as well. Jez and his team now swagger about the place telling anyone who'll listen that Jez will soon be the new manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anne hates us," said Gareth. "They're going to be laying off people and we're going to be first ones to go," he continued in typical paranoid, conspiracy theory style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't be ridiculous," I told the team trying to make them feel a bit more positive. "We're in the same position as everyone else. No-one's being made redundant. There's no favouritism," I said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would have worked too, but for Anne, who choose that point to wander over to Jez and exclaim very loudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how is my star team then!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114772028906584288?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114772028906584288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114772028906584288&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114772028906584288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114772028906584288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/monday-sniper-fire.html' title='Monday - Sniper Fire'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114738533263481267</id><published>2006-05-11T22:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T23:08:59.070+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Delegation, Delegation, Delegation</title><content type='html'>I'm deterined not to let the impossible priorities set by Anne defeat me. I've been working longer hours and I've delegated MD complaints to Ted, Timesheet reviews to Gareth and Jo and Dan's been collating data for the MD reports. I've kept back QC'ing for myself - I'm such a lucky bloke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course even though priorities had been agreed in yesterday's meeting, Anne still found the need to dump more urgent tasks on me. In her words 'This happens. Other things will come in and be moved up the order of priorities.' But she still needs everything else done as well. Then the inevitable happens and a customer is inconsiderate enough to call the customer service department to get some service, as if we're there to attend to the needs of our customers rather than Anne's! The team is busy and I don't want to disrupt the flow of meeting with our objectives. The QC's can wait so I end up taking the call. Suddenly everything appears to have been turned upside down and I'm doing the team's work and they mine. Still. What else can you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave made a nuisance of himself again in the pod.  He was showing off to Jo - again, and I shooed him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nah. Nah. I was only torking abawt work," He said in his defence. "By the way, I woz wundern'. I like a good roast dinner. Don't you? I bet you like your meat and two veg?" He said to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not going to have a meat and two veg if you stay around here any longer," was enough to persuade him to exit the department with his tail between his legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan seemed to be a bit distant unlike his normal effervescent self. I think he doesn't like being called monkey boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That Dave," I said. "Who does he think he is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well he thinks he looks like Robbie Williams," said Dan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What. With that amount of acne?" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And those teeth?" said Ted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He hasn't got any mirrors in his house then, has he?" said Gareth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo leapt to Dave's defence.  "He's all right. He's funny. I like him," She said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You like anyone who pays you a little attention," said Dan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not entirely true," Jo replied. "I didn't like you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114738533263481267?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114738533263481267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114738533263481267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114738533263481267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114738533263481267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday-delegation-delegation.html' title='Wednesday - Delegation, Delegation, Delegation'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114721138495783749</id><published>2006-05-09T22:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T18:21:36.340+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - I want it done and I want it done now!</title><content type='html'>Anne called another of her impromptu meetings to discuss the departments failings when the time could have been better spent dealing with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were summoned to meeting room 2 and sat around the table while she berated the teams and told us that 'she certainly wasn't going to take the fall,'. It reminded me of that scene from the Untouchables but instead of a baseball bat, our Anne Capone, wielded a flip chart marker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your priority for this week," said Anne. "Is too clear the backlogs that are mounting up. No one should be working on anything else but the backlog,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," I ventured, "We have the end of month reports. They have to be in by end of play Thursday,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok," said Anne. "Your priority for this week is the backlog and the end of month reports. There are no excuses. I don't expect to see anyone working on anything else other than those tasks,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You asked me to complete the timesheet database by Friday," Gary added.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne nodded. "Yes I did. All right. Everyone's priority for this week is the backlog, the end of month reports and the time sheet database. No one should be working on anything else,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We do have some MD complaints that have to be responded to in 24 hours," Tracey said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne sighed. "MD complaints have to be a priority. Your priorities for this week are the backlog, end of month reports, time sheet database and MD complaints,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jex now piped up. "Do you want us to put QCing aside for this week?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. We need to QC weekly to meet with audit requirements. Priorities for this week are the backlog, end of month reports, time sheet databases, MD complaints. QC's are a standard daily task so should be done weekly no matter what. But they're not a priority."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So we have to do them even though they're not a priority?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're part of your daily job,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now simple maths tells me that there is more work here than can be completed in a week by the available resource. This is assuming that no customers calls the department with queries and the team don't need any assistance. I've been on a time management course. I know that the correct response when faced with this situation is to advise the person expecting the work to be done that something has to be dropped. It's their call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Anne hasn't been on the same time management course. I explain the position on behalf of the rest of my team leaders who do not feel the strength to push back. The response has Tracey reaching for her Kalms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to do them all. Not doing them is not an option. You'll just have to juggle," was Anne's dismissive reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but feel that I've now just marked my own card as a troublemaker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114721138495783749?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114721138495783749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114721138495783749&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114721138495783749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114721138495783749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/tuesday-i-want-it-done-and-i-want-it.html' title='Tuesday - I want it done and I want it done now!'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114712562254488750</id><published>2006-05-08T22:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T23:04:11.890+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Bean counters</title><content type='html'>It's the end of month - alright I'm a few days out but I've had router problems! -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of every month we have to report on how the team has performed in relation to our customer service targets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, with the new time sheets, now takes quite a few days to collate all of the information and report on it, because Anne systematically will reject any reports produced by Tracey and I and we'll have to rewrite them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past few days I have not been able to deal with any customer queries, correspondence or complaints because I'm too busy creating reports on how many customer queries, correspondence and complaints we had to deal with in the last month as well as report on how well we dealt with customer queries, correspondence and complaints. Ironically enough, our performance on dealing with customer queries, correspondence and complaints was much better before Anne introduced monthly reporting. Not surprisingly as it now takes quite a few days out of available resource.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do we have to do this? Because in Anne's words - we need to be able to prove that we are providing the level of service that our customers deserve. I kid you not!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114712562254488750?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114712562254488750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114712562254488750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114712562254488750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114712562254488750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/monday-bean-counters.html' title='Monday - Bean counters'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114678114466166733</id><published>2006-05-04T22:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T17:52:12.146+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - You are 122nd in the queue. Thank you for your patience</title><content type='html'>What a week. I've not been online this week as the broadband connection has given up the ghost. Those very helpful customer service people in India for the ISP blamed the router. The router helpline - again in Bangalore - blamed the ISP. In the end I just trailed losts of wires across the house, much to the gf's dismay, reinstalled everything and here I am, back again! But a bit behind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Team Leaders now have to complete time sheets as well. The hidden agenda is that we now have to justify every second of our time to 'those whose names we dare not speak' because theres a big, leaky hole in the company and our profits are falling through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, who's most likely to be ripping off the company? The put-upon wage slaves, chained to their desks, given little freedom and earning just above the minimum wage or the gluttonous managers with quadruple the salary, company cars and mobiles, expense accounts, the freedom to work from home whenever they feel like it - sorry whenever necessary - and an even bigger percentage bonus of an even bigger raise. I know who my money is on, but I'm staying stumm. Squeeze those minions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our entertaining meeting, I caught Dave loitering with intent at Jo's desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright monkeyboy," Dave said to Dan. "Whas tha matter. You bin flinging faeces around again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dave. Go back to your team and stop bothering the staff," I said, whilst making a shooeing motion as if he was a big and unwanted fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thas nice innit.  I'm only having a bit of a joke with 'im. Iss only a bit of a larf,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go. Now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave skulked off muttering something about me being a jobsworth under his breath. He returned later under the premise of wanting to ask a work-related question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I jus' wanted to know," said Dave casually. "If you prefer pencils?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave is 26, although the eruption of acne across his face seemed more in tune with his mental age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dave." I said very deliberately. "You are not Tim. Jo is not Dawn. This is not a set from a BBC sitcom and I am most definitely not Gareth."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114678114466166733?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114678114466166733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114678114466166733&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114678114466166733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114678114466166733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday-you-are-122nd-in-queue-thank.html' title='Wednesday - You are 122nd in the queue. Thank you for your patience'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114599225642717716</id><published>2006-04-25T19:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T20:11:00.123+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Quantum Objectives</title><content type='html'>One of the most important discoveries of quantum physics, is that it is nigh on impossible to measure particles, because the very act of measuring them - be they electrons or photons - changes them and skews your result. You can never truly know what a particle is doing before you measured it. This makes the act of measuring it pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same theory could be applied to business. The intention is meant well enough. The big bosses sit around in their ivory towers and I imagine that the discussion will go something like this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big boss 1: So, how can we increase our sales? Our shares are looking decidely peaky and I just put an order in on my new olympic sized swimming pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Boss 2: We need something to incentivise the staff. I have it. Why don't we encourage them to sell more products by - and get this - giving them a bonus when they achieve a pre-defined number of sales!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Boss 1: By George. You have it. This way our staff will sell more policies. Sod buying an olympic sized swimming pool. We could buy Lake Windermere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Boss 2: Of course we'd need to measure how many products the staff were selling so that we know who should get the bonuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Boss 1: Not a problem. Now, Where are my speedos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so you get the gist. Now the intention is good. But what happens when staff are targeted on any objective? What will they focus on doing in their job. Something that'll give them a bit extra in their pay packet or something that'll get the job done right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'll do what they can to hit their targets. And if this means selling a life insurance policy to a terminally-ill arthritic nun then what do you think is going to happen? And who do you think has to pick up the pieces further down the line when complaints are made because the policy isn't really fit for the purpose for which it was sold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course sometimes the Big Bosses take notice of what the little people are saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BB1: Great idea about the sales bonuses. Shame about the nun. Very messy. But why don't we provide a bonus to all staff who don't sell policies to nun's....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and on and on and on it goes - ad infinitum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114599225642717716?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114599225642717716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114599225642717716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114599225642717716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114599225642717716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/tuesday-quantum-objectives.html' title='Tuesday - Quantum Objectives'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114589913376373103</id><published>2006-04-24T18:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T18:18:53.783+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday - Kate goes over to the Dark Side</title><content type='html'>Kate has made herself at home in Jez's team. The air that 'she's one of us now' emanates smugly from his pack of coyotes. Call me paranoid but I can feel my one time ally beginning to switch allegiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne was late in today but she seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood. "Hello Luke. How are you?" she beamed at me in a way that had me looking aroudn to see if another Luke was behind me.  "Ok, thanks." I said in a non-commital way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Gary pulled me to one side. "Anne said that you were extremely negative this morning when she said hello to you," I didn't know what to say. Ok. So I didn't jump up and down clapping my hands. I was busy. I had work to do. I'm a team leader not a game show presenter on speed. "I just said I was ok," I told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well she isn't too happy about it. You haven't done yourself any favours. Be more positive next time," Gary said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I sounded Ted out as a potential second to replace Kate. He thanked me but wasn't interested. He didn't want any responsibility. In his words, he'd been there, done that and bought the extortionately-priced limited-edition tea towel from the gift shop. I told him what had happened earlier. "Surely its more important to do a good job than to be an empty suit with a vacant smile," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted just smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "Of course it is," he said.  But his smile seemed to indicate that he was humouring me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114589913376373103?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114589913376373103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114589913376373103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114589913376373103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114589913376373103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/monday-kate-goes-over-to-dark-side_24.html' title='Monday - Kate goes over to the Dark Side'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114564949451722595</id><published>2006-04-21T20:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T17:56:46.440+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday - Bogged Down by Detail</title><content type='html'>It was Kate's last day in the team. She was clearing her desk ready for the move across to Yez when I noticed the post-it note on her monitor which she'd scrawled the word - 'Bum!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It's just so I don't forget my diet,' she explained. 'The vending machine is far too close,' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth arrived in the pod. 'Alright, Butt,' he said to Dan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Alright but what?' was Dan's response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No not alright but - Alright, Butt.' Gareth explained slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes. But Alright but what?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Alright, Butt. Not but. Butt' He said in a thick Welsh valleys accent that draped his vowels over his tongue like a German's beach towel on a sun lounger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'But what? What follows but?' exclaimed Dan in frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went on like that for the rest of the day. I think it might be a Welsh thing. Maybe I'll ask Gareth about it when I'm not so sober and he is.  If anyone wants to email to explain then please do so and put me out of my misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I plan my to do list, recording the number of Quality Checks I'll carry out, factor in some time for queries, and that is pretty much my day covered. Today as always, the total number of QC's performed by the end of play was nil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first distraction, AS wanted some information on a complaint that had been escalated to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then midway through collating that Gary called another of his favoured impromptu meetings to discuss call figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AS then asked for input on sickness records, even though I hadn't finished the first piece of work that she'd added to my 'to do list' and I found myself wasting another hour in a meeting instead of doing my day job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'd got out Jez had emailed me to ask that I clear Kate's backlogs prior to her move into his team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud of myself. Using my finely tuned time management skills, I responded to Jez and managed his expectations by explaining that I did not have the time available to do that right now as I had work to complete for Anne. All I got in reply was a curt email back explaining why I had to do this and why I should drop everything else in order to complete it. Everyone within the three levels above me was copied in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, at the end of the day AS escaped from her cave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Can you tell me how many QC's you've carried out today?' She blurted out across the room before she'd even got to my desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feebly tried to explain to her how the other work that she'd offloaded on me had had a negative impact upon my core duty efficiency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't give me excuses. How many have you done,' She said bluntly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked displeased. 'You know what you need,' She said. 'I'm going to arrange a time management course for you,'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114564949451722595?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114564949451722595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114564949451722595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114564949451722595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114564949451722595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/friday-bogged-down-by-detail.html' title='Friday - Bogged Down by Detail'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114556428197077087</id><published>2006-04-20T20:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T21:18:02.006+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Chirpy cockney geezer</title><content type='html'>It was time to feedback Anne's comments on the timesheets. Difficult to do when no-one really knew what her issue was. All we understood was that she didn't want the information we provided even though it was what she'd originally asked for. But that was the way of Anne - a menopausal dinosaur of a woman - bending the world so that it fit her interpretation of it.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Yez has a new temp in his team, Dave, and like Emma before him, he spends all of his time in our pod. Not scratching around for work but sniffing around Jo, which has really put Dan's nose out of joint. The temp is from Harrow and he seems to be a real-live caricature of a chirpy, cockney geezer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He calls me the 'company man', Dan the 'Monkeyboy' and Jo, 'Tiger'. When we take offence he then brazenly insists that its all 'just a bit of ban'urr' losing his T's at some point around the M25 . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just call him the git in return. Which he seems to take personally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114556428197077087?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114556428197077087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114556428197077087&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114556428197077087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114556428197077087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/thursday-chirpy-cockney-geezer.html' title='Thursday - Chirpy cockney geezer'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114547098940258373</id><published>2006-04-19T18:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T19:23:09.440+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Time Management</title><content type='html'>A storm broke out over the office today. I was in early and as the team arrived they picked up on the tension brewing in much the same way that animals fall silent just before a heavy thunderstorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then at 10:14 AM, the negative ions zipping around the department broke and Anne exploded at Gary's desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We're going to need to do something about these timesheets. They're crap! I can't see from them what we're spending our time on!' she complained to Gary. Her speech was a verbal form of finger jabbing, each word poking him hard in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The team carried on grazing at their intrays, looking uneasy and not saying a word in case Anne's lightning found them her target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she'd finished Gary called an impromtu meeting to discuss the issue of the time sheets. I'm starting to change my mind about Gary. I don't think he's a bad guy after all and most of the time he has a look about him that seems to suggest he was duped into taking this job. Jez lived up to his nickname of Yez. So called, because he was such a Yes man that it was a wonder he didn't burst into a rendition of prog rock hits from the seventies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary told us that Anne didn't like the way the time sheets were being completed. He picked one up off the pile that Anne had scrawled on in angry green pen, in much the same way that a thug of a toddler would scrawl over someone elses carefully coloured drawings. I spotted Ted's name on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'This one for instance. It has 5 minutes on a phone call. 10 minutes on a letter. Another 5 minutes on discussing an endowment policy with the underwriters. And then at the end of this, an entry at the end here, for 10 minutes - filling in time sheet!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary was serious. Tracey and I surpressed a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Anne's not very happy about the way these timesheets are being completed,' Gary continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'But that's the way it is. That's what they do. The executives will be in the middle of something when they'll get another piece of work given to them. It's an accurate reflection of how their day is broken up,' I told Gary. 'They've not been told how to complete these timesheets. They've just been given them and told to get on with them,'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I think that what Anne wants is...' began Gary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What do you mean you think? You either know or you don't know. If Anne wants these completed in a certain way then she needs to tell us what it is exactly that she wants. Not go ranting and raving about them to you and leave you none the wiser.' I said. I wasn't having a go at Gary. It wasn't his fault. He was merely Anne's stooge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Could we set up a spreadsheet?' was Tracey's offering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't worry,' said Jez seizing another opportunity to make a name for himself. 'I'll ask Anne if she can organise a workshop for you all,' He said with a winking that said he was coming to the rescue again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114547098940258373?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114547098940258373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114547098940258373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114547098940258373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114547098940258373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/wednesday-time-management.html' title='Wednesday - Time Management'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114538540896198080</id><published>2006-04-18T18:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T19:36:49.116+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - No 'I' in Team</title><content type='html'>Back to work after the long Easter weekend. The main topics of conversation from the team were - in order of the amount of distress they caused -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fact that Kate's new diet was ruined by the copious amounts of chocolate she'd consumed on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;Dan - a lifelong Spurs fan bemoaning the loss to Man United.&lt;br /&gt;The new series of 'Doctor Who'. According to Ted it will never be as good as the William Hartnell era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still after the chatter, the team got busily to work. The phones began to ring and faxes and letters were deposited into intrays. I was pleased with their professionalism. It was such a shame that I had to lose Kate from the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took her to one side and explained that she was going to be working for Jez. Her eyes started to water. She appeared distant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Are you all right with that?' I said, while guiltily hoping that she wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;'Yes. Yes. I'm fine. I just had a bit of an argument with my boyfriend at the weekend,' she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We returned to the pod deciding that I would have to keep an eye on her in case this piece of news was going to affect her as well. She seemed to keep her chin up for the rest of the day apart from one lengthy and very heated phone call to the said boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;One of Jez's team - Steve, wandered over as I sat down. 'Mr Ash called. He's not very happy. He wanted to speak to a supervisor in your team but you weren't around. He's going to make a complaint.' He said smugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I was in a meeting. Couldn't Jez have dealt with it?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We can't keep sorting out all of your crap. We wouldn't get any time to do our own work,' Steve said and he returned to Jez's team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'He said we were rubbish when you were in your meeting,' added Gareth as I thumbed the curtly written note in my hand. 'He said that they're taking Kate because only the top people work in Jez's team.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't listen to anything Steve says.' I told Gareth and then I meandered over to Jez and informed him that Kate couldn't transfer until the end of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You're just not a team player,' was Jez's response.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114538540896198080?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114538540896198080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114538540896198080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114538540896198080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114538540896198080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/tuesday-no-i-in-team.html' title='Tuesday - No &apos;I&apos; in Team'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114490508680119214</id><published>2006-04-13T05:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T19:06:44.710+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday - Throne rooms</title><content type='html'>Thank god it's the bank holiday weekend. I've got 4 days off yet already I'm starting to dread that Monday morning feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like Gary's been a bit put out by the size of Jez's throne room. Only Anne has a bigger one and there's a bit of a 'Civilisation' style battle for territory going on at the moment. Gary's defensive tactic has been to add some pedestals to his domain as all the free desks have been commandeered by Jez in his battle for office supremacy. Even Anne has added an extra filing cabinet to her cave to keep the lead in distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new buzz-phrase this week has been 'improving customer experience' and as part of the 'Shooting you up the Arse' strategy this has meant getting the executives to log every minute of their work on a printed word document. The other brilliant idea has been a staff reshuffle. We knew that this has been on the cards as AS has been ranting about it for weeks but has never instructed anyone to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jez had sloped off with Gary and I tracked them down in Meeting Room 2. They were both planning the department reshuffle alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Surely I need to be involved as well," I told them when I found them. "Jez is a team leader. I am too. Surely I should have some say in what happens?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They looked at each other, complicit in their plans but caught in the act. They motioned for me to join them. I took a seat at the table and then remembered: "Tracey needs to be part of this as well," They sighed as I got her to join us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd already made a quite a start on the plan before their discovery and already it had appeared that Jez was building his own supersized empire of wonder-executives leaving Tracey and me with the remaining dribbles of the department. After much debate both Tracey and I clawed back some balance across the teams and we took our plans up to Anne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She mulled over the proposal for a second before crossing through the entire plan with a sweep of her pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kate goes to Jez. That's all we need for now," was all she said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114490508680119214?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114490508680119214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114490508680119214&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114490508680119214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114490508680119214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/thursday-throne-rooms.html' title='Thursday - Throne rooms'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114487038985743950</id><published>2006-04-12T20:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T20:43:27.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday - Time for Txting</title><content type='html'>I briefed the team about the new timesheets in the morning. In reality, there wasn't a lot to brief. Gary's brainwave was simply a printed word document with a table containing columns for Activity and the amount of time spent on that activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jo. Are you texting under your desk?" I asked in the middle of my explanation. Jo lifted her gaze from the dinky pink pad in her hands. "It's on vibrate," she said as way of explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not the point. If you're texting, then you're not paying attention and you're not working," I said. "Who would you be texting now anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there was loud rattle from Dan's desk as his phone started to rumble its way across the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But Dan's just sat next to you," I sighed. They both looked sheepish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114487038985743950?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114487038985743950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114487038985743950&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114487038985743950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114487038985743950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/wednesday-time-for-txting.html' title='Wednesday - Time for Txting'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25091972.post-114477967001458371</id><published>2006-04-11T18:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T19:21:10.116+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday - Too big for their boots</title><content type='html'>Gareth couldn't log on to his PC today. He spent a good few minutes enduring Handel's water music before he slammed down the phone and marched upstairs to IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime Anne called her usual Tuesday morning meeting. Gary, the new bloke was at her side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I don't understand their lack of commitment,' she moaned. 'We're not clearing these backlogs and yet, by a second past 5 o'clock. Their PC's are switched off and they're out the door.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to explain that most of them were young and all they wanted to do was work their hours, and collect their paycheck so they could go out on a Friday night. This wasn't a career for them and they weren't paid enough to care too much about it. But Anne didn't comprehend. I half expected her to exclaim- 'A nightclub? What's a nightclub?' in the style of Lady Bracknell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AS continued. 'It's our own fault for giving them the job title of Customer Service Executives. We're asking for trouble. They've all got ideas above their station and think they're more important than they are. They're too big for their own boots.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point Jez, Tracey and Gary were nodding like those dogs you see in the back of cars. Gary piped up. Smiling as always. Determined to make an impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I recommend that establish a way of managing the productivity of the team on a daily basis. Perhaps we need to introduce a methodology that would measure the output of each executive so that we can assess effectiveness.' He said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You mean a time sheet?' I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That's it,' said Gary enthusiastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned to the team where Gareth was sulking. He'd gone up to IT in his usual brash manner and told them his PC wasn't working. In no uncertain terms the techie guy had said to him: 'What do you mean it's not working? What isn't working? Turn around. Walk out the door. Come back in again and then explain to me exactly what has happened,' Gareth was told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They fixed his machine and he could log on again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I don't understand it,' said Gareth. 'I changed my password yesterday as it was end of month. And today I couldn't log on. Same thing happened last month as well. And the month before that. In fact it happens every month.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'And when you logged back on this morning did you use your old password or the new one you set yesterday?' I asked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth looked puzzled for a moment. 'Ahhh!' He said as the penny dropped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25091972-114477967001458371?l=diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/feeds/114477967001458371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25091972&amp;postID=114477967001458371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114477967001458371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25091972/posts/default/114477967001458371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diaryofawageslave.blogspot.com/2006/04/tuesday-too-big-for-their-boots.html' title='Tuesday - Too big for their boots'/><author><name>Wage Slave</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16213759321922380359</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
