Those who've been with me a while will know that the six months between March and September were bleak in the extreme (apart from the very high moment in August when I connected with a long-lost friend) while I was working at Fuckwittery Inc in a large south coast city.
Ever a glutton for punishment, when that contract finished, I applied for another job at one of Fuckwittery Inc's smaller country branches, with no real hope of anything being good except for the pension provision. Anyhoo. I started there on Tuesday.
Two days in and this, the country branch of FI, is proving to be the complete antithesis of FI (City).
In no particular order, I received a welcome card (!), I've been introduced around; today, a person who I met for about two minutes yesterday offered me cake and called me by my name; there are sufficient loos for the number of staff. There's a kitchen, with plates, cutlery, mugs, tea supplies and a microwave, there's a break-out/lunch area WHICH IS NOT IN THE CORRIDOR - with sofas and chairs and a table. Staff are treated with respect and trust, as sentient adults. There has been no three-day pointless Induction. I get mine on 6th January, and it will last for one day, and include a sandwich lunch. Fuckwittery Inc (City) managed a two-pack of slightly stale Lincoln biscuits and a plastic cup of stewed tea.
My colleague, Dive, is, amongst other things, an ex-matelot; he's what snowflakes might call ''un-woke'', but we get along swearily. We're about the same age, I'd think. Same terms of reference. We had the ''Do I offend you? If so tell me'' conversation yesterday, to which I said (having already successfully gauged the cut of his jib) ''Fuck, no!'' He laughed. I also pointed out to him that when he does offend me, he'd know about it - but that he shouldn't hold his breath because I'm too old to be a snowflake about much. He laughed again. I like him already - he's honest, he's forthright and he expects me to be the same. Today, he said I was a Rottweiler...I took it at as a compliment. He's not my boss - he's my equal, and we job-share. We are trusted to get on with shit, and we are not subjected to micro-management. We have an actual boss, but he's based at the slightly larger country branch further down the coast, and does high-brow things with money and legals, so we are seldom graced with his presence, nor are we likely to be. That's a shame, because he interviewed me (with Dive) and he seemed like a really good bloke.
The office I share with Dive is roomy, quiet and overlooks a garden area. There are windows - four of them - and they open. It has two proper desks, and decent tech equipment, a filing cabinet; Dive said I should have that. He travels light; being of a services mentality, he ''might have to get in and out quick''. Perhaps he was a naval ninja... We also have four intact chairs (two wheelie and two for visitors) and, get this...a cupboard, full-length, with HANGERS FOR OUR COATS!!! We have clean walls, a trio of what I'd call ''hotel art'' pictures, plus a photo of Dive's prized open-top Saab. It's his ''against the bad days'' charm. If he feels down, he looks at his picture and tells himself that he'll being going home with her later. Okay, I know that's not PC but, you know, (and this is me talking) I don't care.
We get on, the two of us.
Everything else will fall into place...
Oh, but on the downside, and typically, the IT doesn't work.
