Mug, pot plant, a few framed family photos, a wrung-out tube of hand-cream, packet of out-of-date Lemsip, a collection of pocket-tissues (unused) and a diverse selection of pharmaceuticals to alleviate all those pains in the neck, hands and arse caused by sedentary office job all squeezed into a small cardboard box. Drawers cleared. Papers shredded. A zillion biros handed back to the Stationery Monitor.
Is that it? Five years of service and that motley collection of tut is all I’ve got to bring home. In fact, I would have qualified for a length of service award to mark the passing of the last 5 years but I’ll eat my hat if our disorganised management actually remember to arrange a certificate before I leg it.
Four weeks to go and if this morning’s anything to go by then the rest of the month is due to rapidly descend into headless chicken chaos. It transpires that my replacement is starting next Monday which my boss had conveniently forgotten to mention. In her usual last-minute.com manner she’s now decided to re-organise all the office furniture because that’s what you do when you’ve got new starters starting. Advance strategic planning notably absent from her management tool kit despite working in a busy financial environment.
As a self-confessed control freak being surrounded by disorganised numpties is my worst possible nightmare. Is it any wonder I’m heading for the exit? Had I been in charge of our team, I would have re-arranged the furniture weeks ago in readiness for staff changes.
But there you go. Everyone’s different so head down, drink coffee and keep crossing the days off the desk calendar until month end.
