15 posts tagged “outsourcing”

One less malcontent in the Basement of Discontent.

Packed up my stuff, cleaned my desk, wiped my name off the white board and headed out the door.

Once again, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.

I have perfected bitter and twisted in the workplace to a fine art.

I may go on the road with it.

No job news – for anyone in the Basement of Discontent

I woke with the lyrics “over and over again my friend…we are only here for destruction” in my head. Then as I drove to work this morning I passed a girl wearing a tee-shirt that told me “Frankie says to relax”. So is the big Whatever really called Frankie? And what message am I being being given today?

I  am being interviewed for my own position this morning by the Newbies.

A walk on the wild side.

Ever one is getting very edgy at work. Some of it may be due to the sugar high we all got from the pre-pre Christmas farewell morning tea we gave ourselves this morning. SWKK wanted it and said “lets do food and gifts” next Friday and we all said yes,  okay, we will, in that weak voice you get when you are being polite, but completely lack enthusiasm of any kind. Then  I decided god damn it I am going to take my flex day on Friday after all and changed my hair appointment to Friday and said I can’t make Friday for food and gifts, and lo, SWKK said what about Thursday? and hence the sugar high.

We came with our little gifts – except for SWKK who said something about bringing hers tomorrow, next week, whatever. We of course handed ours over…I have no doubt that she will produce something for us before she leaves next week, but I suspect, I know, it will be of lesser value. The Assistant gave her a musical snow globe, from one of the cheap and nasty shops we all love so much, only when SWKK went to play the music there was no key with which to wind it , so she just got to shake it….poetic isn’t it! Best big jolly I had this week!

SWKK also made a pavlova. Now, a good Aussie pav is always filled with cream and topped with fruits such as strawberries, kiwi fruit, passionfruit etc. Well, the Assistant wont eat fruit. She was traumatized by a banana at an early age and so won’t go near any fruit item. So SWKK, in her milk of human kindness mode, flavoured the whipped cream with chocolate powder and put chocolate flakes over the top. We all went, mmmm mmmm, lovely. And it was to a degree, but it just didn’t seem right. A pavlova has fruit, and chocolate whipped cream just seemed like blasphemy. Maybe it is the catholic side of me again. Some things you don’t mess with…however it was nice.

Now, with sugar pulsating through every vein and artery, we feel like punching people out. Especially the people who feign empathy or sympathy but it is really just a guise to gather gossip. GO AWAY. GO AWAY NOW, BEFORE I SMASH YOUR FACE INTO WHAT REMAINS OF THE CHOCOLATE PAV.

The End – may it be soon.

Three ladies from the admin team of one of our clients came to my office this afternoon to present me with these -

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They included a lovely card that they had all signed. One of the comments said that I was "one of the few people that can make a disaster seem like a non event". I really treasure their thoughtfulness and gift of gratitude. I have had the privilege of working with some fine people in the last few years and these people were among the finest

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.

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The Basement of Discontent has had one of those days when you wish you could just flick a switch and have the lights turn off, so that you can just roll over in bed and tell yourself it was all a bad dream. Our IT system is shit. I suspect that Dumbo IT man  may have left us with a time bomb.

Not that we really care. Well some do, as some are making pretence at doing some work while we pursue the chance to continue to perform our own jobs for far less money.  Some. Boss got so angry that he threw several things in his office. I ducked as he has so much rubbish piled up there that I expected something to ricochet out the door that adjoins my office and take me out. At least the family would get worker’s compensation for my demise.  

I hit the ground like one of those journalists who stand too close to the fighting and then jump every time they hear an explosion, or a cough. If they blue screened themselves over some old footage none of us would know the difference anway so why risk life and limb?. Maybe I should send that idea to Murdoch, he might send me a free copy of The Australian newspaper or something valuable like that! I could burn the paper in the winter to keep warm when I am homeless. Or stuff it inside my clothes as an extra layer, also in the winter. All the homeless people would say “what is that crumpling sound?”as I walked by and look at me. I would be the geek nerdy homeless person, but god damn it I would be warmer than they!

It has all culminated in making me feel really,  really stressed. REALLY STRESSED. Bite the head off a canary stressed. Even a walk and a cup of tea has not helped to unwind me. I feel like a corckscrew embedded tightly in a cork that wont budge from the bottle’s neck. Lucky Mr FD is away tonight, or he might have been my punching bag. I may still phone him and abuse him long distance just to make myself feel better.

Mr FD is in the lovely town of Murgon tonight. Those of you who are familiar with the town will know what an exciting little rural retreat that is… Mr FD and his friend GA have the honor of having been thrown out of the Murgon pub back in the 1970s. I am sad to say that Murgon was once an Aboriginal mission and as Australia only recognized Aboriginals as Australia citizens in 1967, that a white man had to work pretty hard to get thrown out of the Murgon pub in those days. (and before you abuse me, I was 9 years old in 1967 and not yet aware of our  then White Australia Policy, and once I was aware, detested it instantly)

 I believe that one of the reasons they got thrown out was the fact that they were not obeying the dress code. It appears between them they had 4 feet and 2 thongs (flipflops) and one is suppose to wear shoes in the public bar. So, mightily in need of a drink, they divided the pair of thongs and each took one. They stood at the bar, the barfoot on the ground and placed the thronged foot on top of it to try and hide the thongless foot. It was one reason they were thrown out ….I don’t know the other reason and to be truthful after 30 years of marriage I suspect it is better not to venture there now. Another time they needed a tie to enter an event and Mr FD was without one. He took his shoe lace out of his shoe and tied it around his neck al la bowtie. Nothing would keep this man from a drink in the old days… and little more now!

I have digressed again haven’t I? I do so digress. I suspect that it has helped unkink some of the twists in my neck muscles due to Dumbo IT though. We do feel like we are gradually being evicted though. The business at the front of our building is expanding and all sorts of renovations are taking place, so we can’t use out front entrance. Lots of noise and vibrating too – a bit like a bad sex movie in some ways, without the relief when it is all over. Computer systems are kaput.  People are disappearing and not caring enough to let anyone know why they hid the keys. Is this what it is like to live on Death Row? Or Cannery Row? Maybe that is the problem, we are living a life in a defunct sardine canning factory. God knows, we are living through our own great depression.

There was this toilet. I was sitting on it. And I tried to stand, but the mean giant's paw just pounded down on my back and I felt like I couldn't stand upright. My right shoulder slumped lower than my left. The pain was everywhere. I remembered to flush though.

I spent today mostly horizontal except for a visit to my physiotherapist. I am back  in the lovely neck collar. Isn't it all wonderful? My life just keep getting better and better. I did a high class impersonation of quasimoto following the physio into her treatment room and climbing onto the table. Yes master.  She was kind and kept a straight face, bless her. However, half way into the treatment she announces that she has resigned and is leaving in 3 weeks and would I prefer to see a male or female physiotherapist in the future? She is the 2nd physio I have worn out. I am starting to take it personally. Oh they might say that they are pregnant, or in this instance, say that she needs time off to get preganant, but I know I am too much for them. She is upset that she hasn't been able to fix me before she leaves ... gee why would she expect that after only 4 years of treatment? I wish her well, but I wish me better.

I told my physio that when the giant attacked me all I could hear was her voice in my head saying "remember your posture". She is always reminding me to remember my posture, and would expect good posture on the loo just as much as anywhere else. She told me that there is actually a correct posture for sitting on the toilet seat. Yes, back straight as expected but also the feet should be on tiptoes! This posture helps to unkink the little kink we all have at the end of our bowel. The asian squat is actually the best posture of all. Another thing my mother never told me! How could mother expel me into the world without equipping me with that knowledge! Mother has failed me yet again.

It has been pouring down with rain for the past 4 hours or so and I just checked the weather map and they have issued flood warning for some of the streams and rivers in south east Queensland. I don't think it is too bad, not yet anyway. If it doesn't stop raining soon we may been looking for our floaties though...Mr FD is on a road trip and due home tomorrow night - hopefully no road issues for him. The rain is so heavy that the sound of it on the roof is preventing me from falling asleep. That and the giant's paw on my back.

Daughter 2 locked herself out of her apartment tonight and her housemate is away until tomorrow so Daughter 1 had to go and rescue her. She has come home for the night, which was a nice surprise from my point of view. Hopefully friend will be able to get back tomorrow and all will be well. And yes, have told her to give us spare keys in future!

I saw a woman riding a scooter yesterday in the rain. She was wearing a purple and yellow rain poncho, which billowed out behind her like a super hero's cape. Maybe she was rushing to save the world, but to me she looked like a violet crumble bar chocolate on wheels.

Met the hierarchy of the organisation taking over the Basement of Discontent yesterday too. They told us that they really value corporate knowledge blah blah blah and that we could apply for jobs with them when they are advertised next week. At less money. Gracious don't you think? I had to spend some time with their IT guy explaining all our systems and how he could harvest all our data and no doubt you can all guess how excited I was to do that! I bear no grudge towards them - not their fault that our mothership no longer loves us. I had a one on one meet and greet with a couple of their lovelies and they pretended interest in who and what I was, and I told them that I just want my life back, NOW! At the same time my resume got sent out by central HR to other distant parts of our parent organisation telling them that I am now available for the asking. I am sure that the stampede for my talents will start any year now.

*Violet Crumble is an Australian chocolate bar manufactured in Campbellfield near Melbourne, Australia, by Nestlé. It is one of the best selling chocolate bars in Australia. Violet Crumble is also common in Hawaii, but can also be found in other places (including New Zealand).

The bar is a crumbly honeycomb-like substance coated in compound chocolate. It is similar to the Crunchie made by Cadbury.

The slogan for the chocolate bar is "It's the way it shatters that matters" (replacing the previous slogan, "Nothing else matters").

Got a big jolly today.

Apparently MegaBoss, Boss. and the gent who is "acting" for Mega Bitch now that she is no more, and has never been part of our organisation and is MERELY a friend of MegaBoss, have been meeting over the past few days trying to find a way to compile some specific information.

Being men they did not think to ask the person who is actually the specialist in that area - YES, MOI! The one and only Flamingo Dancer!  Finally the Acting One phoned me from his throne room and asked me if he could do this or that and I said "what is it you want to do actually?" and lo, it was so simple I almost burst ou laughing. Within half an hour I had the report on its way to his kingdom. I did enjoy the fact that I calmly made it look so simple, well it was actually, but they were stupid enough not to ask the right person in the first place so they deserved to sweat for a couple of days.

The jollies don't come often these days, but rare jewels that they are, they are still there to be enjoyed. And I did! Happy, happy little flamingo dance...it is a small life, but someone has to live it.

Life lesson 483 : Take your enjoyment, no matter how small, where and when you can! They don't often get offered twice.

I saw that Sarah Palin is still featuring on Fox – talk about news junkies with an addiction! I heard her saying that she doesn’t know whether she will run for President in 2012 or not, that she just asks God not to let her pass an open door. I wished some door would open for me.

The garbage man came this morning. It was a two bin day – garbage and recycling. Always a highlight of the week. I walked out of the house to go to work and noticed that the fine garbage man must have had an off morning and quite a bit of our rubbish, had missed his glorious garbage truck and was now spread about our footpath. So I picked it up and brought the wheelie bins back to their little home against the side fence.

I thought more about Sarah’s open door policy as I drove to work. I always ask the Big Whatever to just take me somewhere I will be happy. Obviously not working all that well. Maybe time to adopt a more “unlock the door and let me in” attitude.

I arrived at work and found that outside the front door a newspaper had quietly settled itself, page beside page. A number of staff had already walked passed it, over it, but all those lunch times spent picking up litter under the menacing glare of the  Sisters of No Mercy kicked into memory and I set to picking up the paper.

It was then that I started to think that maybe The Big Whatever was opening a door for me – garbage collection. I have always leaned towards a job with a leaf blower – I really like those things. The power of blowing leaves and various detritus about seems like a good gig from where I sit, with no window. I could probably master working with one of those little spike things and stabbing various bits of rubbish. No sure how I would go mastering a truck with a hydraulic arm though, and left hand drive as opposed to our usual right hand drive vehicles. I am not all that coordinated – yes folks the Flamingo Dancer cannot catch a ball! Shame, horror. I have so much need for ball skills in life too…

What if this is the only door that is coming my way? What if that is it and here I am dissing it off? Will I get to the Great You Know Where and find the door shut and when I ask “Why?” will I get the answer, “Well I opened a door once for you, what more do you want?” When will I know what is the right door and what is just delusion?

I have job applications to write but can not bring myself to write them. I have the start of a miserable headache - on a Sunday for heaven's sake! Not fair! I think my procrastination is partly due to the fact that nothing really appeals to me but I feel like I have to apply for security and survival, and more importantly I don't want to apply because I don't want another job. I like the one I have. I am damn good at it....

Life is too often a shit ... and then you die....

not dancing -  stamping, stomping, tromping, mad.