A bit of a trouble day at t'mill today. I was in work early, extra early in fact, for a couple of reasons. The first is that I had a motorbike on loan for a couple of days so instead of spending about an hour messing around on public transport my commute into work was 15 minutes of almost pure joy.
The second reason is because I'm in journo school this week and so I have to come in early, and leave late to make sure all my normal work gets done. This isn't the planned situation but well, let us just say that sometimes things don't work out as planned.
I don't really have a problem with it, journo school is excellent and it's only for a week but what I do have a problem is when a Dinosaur comes over and chews my ear off for no real reason.
That makes it sound more exciting than it really was. What really happened is a very 'old school journo' i.e. a functioning alcoholic who day-dreams about the era of the typewriter, ambled over and told me off about something silly.
It was silly for a few reasons.
1) I was officially 'off' because of training so it wasn't my responsibility
2) The thing he wanted to happen wasn't that important because it doesn't have that much of an affect on business.
3) It had actually happened, it just hadn't been done in a way that he could see it instantly.
4) The whole matter was sorted out before 8am because I was there early anyway.
This was bad enough, but then the dinosaur sent an email to my boss about how work wasn't getting done and it how Louche didn't seem to get the business of media. As you can imagine I was more than slightly annoyed about this.
This was especially galling as just the day before, the Dinosaur had given us an hour long lecture about how to deal with people effectively and how if you do have to say something bad to someone, say something good either side of it and never do it via email.
The group email to a range of people who could get me in trouble didn't really have much of an affect. Or at least the affect the Dinosaur wanted. My boss doesn't respect the Dinosaur and he told him, in polite corporate-political speak, that he could fudge off.
Dinosaurs don't like fudge.
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2 comments:
Trouble at teh mill? And what part of the country do you think people talk like that, then? The teh north? The teh south? Or teh fucking teh nowhere?
You southerners make me teh sick.
I think you'll find that's 'teh sick, innit' to us southern gets, bpp.
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