Thursday 9 July 2015

I object

End of financial year has been and gone. Back when I was a humble (yeah, right) processor, EOFY was the busiest and most stressful time. Everything needed to be done. Everything needed to be loaded. Everything needed to be paid and married.

The joyful part was knowing that once I got past that I could relax. EOFY comes but once a year, and unlike Christmas it doesn't even leave me out of pocket.

I'm here to tell you that's where the good times are. In the rank and file of the office. In the nameless hordes that run the country while the upper echelons make noise. Workers unite.

But, oh no, I wanted a pay rise. Oh no, I wanted to have more influence in the workplace. Oh no, I didn't heed the suitcase-sized bags under the current team leaders' eyes and thought 'how hard could it be?'

It could be MUCH hard. MUCH hard, indeed.

EOFY is a picnic now. Get it on, get it all on. How simple and perfect is that ambition? How easy it would be to just do that and then get back to your normal pace of life.

But no. There is no normal pace of life. EOFY, tick.

Next comes Performance Reviews. Not even begun, tick.

What happens when that's all locked in? Do I get to relax? Oh, no. Relaxing is for plebs.

I get to set objectives. I hate them so much sometimes I want to cry, tick.

Due to the weirdness of my glorious team, I get to create four different sets of objectives. Three for them, and one for me.

The remainder of the office have standard staff objectives which I seem to have endlessly contributed to this week in what feels like some enormous groundhog day prank, and standard team leaders objectives which, ditto.

They don't apply to my staff. They don't even apply to me. Why doesn't everyone go away and leave me alone? Where has my sense of humour gone?

My only joy is that someday, far away at the end of August while I'm sunning myself beside the pool in the most perfect holiday spot in the world, I'll look back on this time and I'll
laugh
cry
shriek hysterically
wish drugs were legal.

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