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*so* nice to be back in work...
Jan. 3rd, 2006 09:24 amFirst day back in work of the new year. First day back in work after two weeks off.
Should be nice and gentle, right? Nope, not a bit of it. No time to sit and wonder what my job is while settling back into it. No sirree. I started back on a Tuesday, and Tuesday is Cyril day.
I love Cyril to bits. I really do. But he can be hard to handle at times. About to turn 79 and a retired tax-man, 'single-minded and set in his ways' is putting it mildly. He gives me a lift into work on Tuesdays, and I'm grateful, I really am. But at 8.15am on my first day back to work in a fortnight, I really don't need to have work talk thrown at me the moment I get in the car.
Cyril reproachfully tells me that on the day he went into the office during the week I was off before Christmas, Boss couldn't find any membership forms. I keep my cool and inform him that they are in the same place they have always been and aren't hard to find. Shortly after this, he launches into a long-winded and mind-numbingly dull story about stationery requisition from his days in the revenue, apropos of nothing. I tune out.
After about five minutes, it occurs to me that the story is probably related to the membership form issue he'd raised earlier, his attempt at making a point about the way I run the office. I start to get cross, and repeat my earlier point, that the forms are where they've always been and aren't hard to find. I add that everytime I get one out for anyone, I show them where they are. Not my fault if they have memories like so many sieves and expect not to have to remember anything because I'll do it for them. I can't do more than that, other than perhaps never leave the office just in case someone looses something. And, frankly, I'm entitled to my time off, and they can't afford to pay me for it. End of story.
Arrive in office feeling disgruntled.
One of my last requests before I went on leave was could they please not leave dirty cups mouldering over the holidays. I don't think it's that much to ask. Arrive to find dirty cups - including mine, which I had washed and put away - have been left to moulder for over a week. Seethe quietly while washing them. I wash everything that gets used, every day when I'm in work, because it matters to me that I'm drinking from a clean cup and that I have clean cups to use for visitors. I don't think washing up when I'm not there is that hard, even for management.
Am cross. Take ten minutes to walk down to the newsagent and buy milk, hoping this will calm me down. Arrive back in office and am no sooner through the door than Cyril is asking me to do some photocopying for him, because he can't work the machine for double-sided.
I don't mind looking after the volunteers. But it isn't really part of my job description.
Snap and tell Cyril that I'd quite like to be allowed to take my coat off and get settled in again before taking requests for work.
Great way to start a working year.
And that is all. End of rant.
Should be nice and gentle, right? Nope, not a bit of it. No time to sit and wonder what my job is while settling back into it. No sirree. I started back on a Tuesday, and Tuesday is Cyril day.
I love Cyril to bits. I really do. But he can be hard to handle at times. About to turn 79 and a retired tax-man, 'single-minded and set in his ways' is putting it mildly. He gives me a lift into work on Tuesdays, and I'm grateful, I really am. But at 8.15am on my first day back to work in a fortnight, I really don't need to have work talk thrown at me the moment I get in the car.
Cyril reproachfully tells me that on the day he went into the office during the week I was off before Christmas, Boss couldn't find any membership forms. I keep my cool and inform him that they are in the same place they have always been and aren't hard to find. Shortly after this, he launches into a long-winded and mind-numbingly dull story about stationery requisition from his days in the revenue, apropos of nothing. I tune out.
After about five minutes, it occurs to me that the story is probably related to the membership form issue he'd raised earlier, his attempt at making a point about the way I run the office. I start to get cross, and repeat my earlier point, that the forms are where they've always been and aren't hard to find. I add that everytime I get one out for anyone, I show them where they are. Not my fault if they have memories like so many sieves and expect not to have to remember anything because I'll do it for them. I can't do more than that, other than perhaps never leave the office just in case someone looses something. And, frankly, I'm entitled to my time off, and they can't afford to pay me for it. End of story.
Arrive in office feeling disgruntled.
One of my last requests before I went on leave was could they please not leave dirty cups mouldering over the holidays. I don't think it's that much to ask. Arrive to find dirty cups - including mine, which I had washed and put away - have been left to moulder for over a week. Seethe quietly while washing them. I wash everything that gets used, every day when I'm in work, because it matters to me that I'm drinking from a clean cup and that I have clean cups to use for visitors. I don't think washing up when I'm not there is that hard, even for management.
Am cross. Take ten minutes to walk down to the newsagent and buy milk, hoping this will calm me down. Arrive back in office and am no sooner through the door than Cyril is asking me to do some photocopying for him, because he can't work the machine for double-sided.
I don't mind looking after the volunteers. But it isn't really part of my job description.
Snap and tell Cyril that I'd quite like to be allowed to take my coat off and get settled in again before taking requests for work.
Great way to start a working year.
And that is all. End of rant.
