Friday, September 20

fortunate ones

The job I'm doing at the moment required me to discipline someone this week. If I had gone ahead right away, my discomfort would have caused me to make a mess of it, and everybody would have felt bad. Instead, I took a couple of days to mull it over, and consider options.

Today I did the deed, gently and fairly but without backing down or going soft. What a fortunate person he was, to have me on his case!

 Meanwhile, last week's heat wave has ended in a return to winter chill, and the poor plants don't know if they're coming or going. These flowers are growing in the gap between houses, near where the possum jumps across every night. I'd like to discipline it with a shotgun.

It's Friday, and to paraphrase John Grierson I wish you all, over the borders and over the sea, in the campervan, or bus to Samye Ling, a very good night.


Thursday, September 12

action stations!

In the lead up to the mass sackings next month, Albert is spending the final weeks in his boss's chair, while the boss blows all his leave entitlement on a world tour. 

Albert's discovered he's actually rather good as a manager. He's still useless at the awful meetings, where there's endless talk about nothing. But he's very efficient at getting things done, while treating people with warmth. The other managers sit plonked at their desks all day, tied to keyboard and phone, but Albert uses his legs and the stairs to visit people and talk. With all the exercise and the adrenalin buzz, Albert will surely come out ahead, or in a box.

I'm a bit like that myself, thanks to the toilet training and nob school. If the navy hadn't knocked me back on the eyesight test when I was young, I'd have worked my way up to Executive Officer, the person below the captain who actually gets things done. Of course the free rum ration would have sunk me long ago. 





Albert's actually rather hoping he's not re-employed after the sackings, but what on earth would he do with his forced retirement? Probably start blowing dough on holidays and food, like Rodders. Or on drugs and escorts, like Hotters. 

Wednesday, September 4

industrial relations in new south caledonia

At the end of a long campaign last year, Albert's union won him the obligation to work an extra five hours a week, unpaid. This year's negotiations have resulted in a mass sacking.

Now he and his workmates have been invited to apply for their old jobs back (on a lower pay rate).

But all is not lost. Thank goodness for the anticipated largesse of old university chums. Minted as they are, they'll surely want to sub him a few grand here and there.