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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

A quick aside on the subject of employment, written at 4.06pm over the work email system while there's nothing else to do on a relatively slow Friday...

I seem to be going out of my way to get sacked right at the moment, and it's occurred to me to wonder why I'd be doing that.

A brief history - I got reprimanded this week by my line manager for being constantly on the email every time he walked past. Fair Cop Guv'ner and all such things, because it was absolutely true - it occurred the day after my birthday, and I was busy conferencing with lots of other people who have personal work email accounts about important things. Like, if I remember correctly, "If you were an animal, what would you be?" (I'd recently taken the 'animal in me' test, and come out as a Penguin, so I'm quite well versed on that topic)

That day was a particularly poor example of my ability to stay focused on the job at hand. Bearing in mind that I’d just stopped being 24 and had just started being 25, the trauma of that occurrence did (in my humble) allow me some slack. However, maybe not quite as slack as I was being. There was everyone, frantically multi-tasking around me, and there was I, busily composing a pithy reply to the accusation that I smell.

The following day, you may already have jumped to the realisation, I started up this blog. And, by carefully looking at the times when things were posted here, you’d be right to think that I carried on posting to this blog during work hours. Not quite what I’m paid to do, you’d be right in assuming.

So here lies my question - do I actually, consciously, want to be sacked? I don’t think I do, when it comes down to it. I mean, I’ll be handing in my notice next Friday, and I’d rather I got the last word, rather than they did. I’m not leaving because I hate the job, but more because I hate having to work, and hold it against anyone I possibly can. And, since I’ve used up all my holiday allowance, I feel it’s time to go.

I may well be a mental. What do you think?

Answers on a postcard, please.

This entry was posted on 09 November 2001 at 4:40 pm. 0 comments

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