Dear Dairy (I’m writing to the cows) these last few months have been weird, i’m becoming increasingly tired in the afternoons after I return from work and find my self dozing off. I like this, because a) it allows me to catch up on the sleep i’m not missing anyway and b) my work can wait. I get up early and try to get a couple of hours in before my awful man of a boss or boss of a man opens up his emails, by that time i’m walking the dog and even if he spoke to me I am now completely impervious and clueless as to what is going on in my company (not mine, but the one where i am and have been for 23 years now) Maybe its me who’s mad but I’d suggest that the company which I used to quite like is now being run by a load of maniacs.

In the last few months, say since march, several of the senior managers and directors have handed in their papers; retirement, or moving onto bigger and better things, I don’t know, they don’t tell me, but when the CEO decides he’s had enough after about 18 months then it may be ok to suppose and postulate that  something is afoot.

A foot is a foot.

But recently, we have been asked to produce the same widgets we’ve been producing for ages, and this is how its gone in the last 18 months. at the beginning of the plague, we had 12 months to do what ever the fuck it is that I do, then mid plague, with the death toll at a pretty grim rate, we had to produce whatever the fuck it is that we produce in half the time, then around winter time whan people were dying in cold dank dark rooms, we had to produce whatever the fuck it is that I do in half that time; 3 months. This week we were told we have to produce this insane product in 6 weeks. This is of course impossible to achieve and so everyone who does this mental job that I do will be fiddling the results and telling the management to go and fuck themselves, but in a way that they think is good. None of the senior managers have risen through the ranks, which to my mind seems like a perfectly acceptable way to run an (apparently, but I have my doubts) international company. A conglomerate of people who have absolutely no idea of what we do, are now in charge of giving what we make, to people who like what we do, but are dumbfounded by the maniacs in charge. We are being told to do what we do faster and faster and faster and yet no one seems to know who this fast stuff is for. You could make this shit up, if you had a good imagination, but the folk who stand on the football terraces and Boo the opposing nations national anthem are exempt from this situation and probably don’t read this shit, so I really don’t need to worry.

The result of what is going on at work now is that I ( and pretty much everyone I speak to ) really have no interest in what we do and slightly more worrying why we’re doing what we do. The world is going mad, Brexit happened, Bruce Dickenson from Iron Maiden is complaining about the Brexit which he voted for not being what he voted for, but you see Bruce, this is exactly what you voted for. My company is being run by actual maniacs, my awful manager is moving on, which I am grateful for, but he’s going on to be incharge of Quality Management and Training. Both of which i’d rather leave to my Mum who cant hear, use a computer or abide foreigners, such is the way of things.

So I think I just have to ease my way into retirement, which could be as much as 18 years or as little as 8 years, and I know what I’d prefer, and travel occasionally into HQ, maybe virtually and listen to the nuts and bolts and fruit salad of the company crepitate as it slowly finds itself unable to understand what the fuck it is doing or providing for anyone, whilst the world stands by and cleans out the oceans.