Had a meeting last week, second day back and a bunch of us got together to discuss the new Operating System my company has bought in. One of the four of us is already trained in it and so he took centre stage in the farm shop cafe and talked us through the thing. Turns out it’s not so hot.
My job, of which a majority is outside will be flipped on its head and will become mostly home based, rotting in a sea of editing, my skin bleaching, my gut growing and my fitness levels falling as I sit for hours on end behind a fucking PC. The system that we are slowly being trained in doesn’t seem to be fit for purpose, and for a while I had been questioning why we hadn’t heard anything from our colleagues regarding the new way of working. But now I know, the time to do a “job” is about 12 times slower, 12!! Management have been quiet, absent, unwilling to talk and as I learnt today, unable to come up with a plan to solve this skip fire. Seems this well known national company may be in the shit. Seems a bit like this is our Brexit; someone suggested and authorised it, without consulting a sizeable portion of the workforce who are to use the thing. And it doesn’t work, we’ve been told to forget everything we have known and to embrace the new system. Dig the new breed, as someone once said (Sonic Youth?)
And with little or no management intervention, no motivation and no guidance as to how to achieve a high performance mark in this year going forward, it’s made me have a word with my self. Why would I bother to bust a gut, if I had nothing to bust a gut for aside from to appease my manager, a man who told us his nickname and suggested we use it when speaking to him. You’re not my fucking mate and as the only email you’ve sent me in 4 months is to tell me to catch up on those horrific on line training courses then i’m struggling to see what’s in it for me. In fact this morning when I logged on I received an email from the HR department informing me that lobster would not be on the menu anytime soon as they have increased the pay offer to me (specifically) by an extra 0.4%. I’m likely to make more money selling shit on the internet than I would working hard for these cunts. Thing is I’m in the top section of the top producers of whatever the hell it is I do in the country, work that out, I played golf with my son this afternoon without permission, how’s that for sticking it to the man? And returning to my work phone just 10 minutes ago I realised that absolutely no one of any consequence or standing has tried to get in touch so I have no need to concoct some bullshit story involving my slowly deafening Mum.
So all is Bullshit at the moment in work circles and the thought of potentially sitting behind my PC slowly falling apart and losing my eyesight scares me shitless. Maybe the honeymoon is over and if I still want to work outside then maybe I should consider collecting trolleys outside the Range. I can’t believe it may come to this, it’s our Brexit, no one dare mention the name of the new Operating System, as if by ignoring it then it will go away, or get better. But as we can see in our other controlled experiment with ACTUAL Brexit, this shit ain’t getting better. But ask me next year and I’d be delighted to tell you I was wrong. My mate who spoke to us at the farm shop last week told us that he really doesn’t give a shit for the company and so he would be doing the bare minimum until he retires (a few years) but that doesn’t sit well with me, where’s my Job satisfaction? Does that not count for anything? The way the Corporate Cogs are turning right now, then it appears not.
Just do your jobs, be grateful you’ve got jobs, and if you don’t like it then you can Fuck off. So much for workers rights and mental well being. It vexes me to have not heard a dickie bird from the sinister faceless company, (anonymous for the purpose of my blog, if I win the Euromillions tonight then I’ll bloody spill all the beans) regarding the Cost of Survival Crisis. Someone, or a bunch of folk have really screwed up somewhere along the line and it feels like the chickens are coming home to roost, the fun is over and they may need to hand their Audis back.