Slave to the Pituitary Gland.

For every population operating regularly within a contained environment, there exists a Critical Mass of women which, when achieved, will drastically and dramatically change the dynamics of that environment. In the division that I work in (Population: 16), the Critical Mass is THIRTEEN. How unfortunate it is that the sixth prime number, which suffers the ignominies of being forever linked to misfortune and hockey masks, must also bear the blame for Things Falling Apart.

Now I know a lot of about putting too many women in the same place for long periods of time. I attended a girls-only school from the ages of 13 to 16 - those crucial years when girls begin to experiment with Bitchiness and Backstabbing, and then lived in a women-only dormitory from the ages of 20 to 22 - when women decide whether to make them Life Choices. So I've had my fair share of fangs, claws and fluctuating oestrogen levels.

*****

When I first started drafting this post I didn't really know where it would go. I still don't. I'm publishing it anyway as a pre-emptive prologue to a hypothetical future work incident involving women fighting.

Clot.

So I have been sat here since noon (it is now 19:27), slowly bulldozing my way through the CFA Ethical and Professional Standards. I am only at page 41 of Volume 1, which is, at approximately 600 pages long, the thinnest of four volumes that I must digest before I sit for the first CFA exam. In June. 2007. 3rd of.

FUCK.

Right. Something must be done about this. I need a PLAN. The first part of the PLAN is to stop staying late at work, especially since I'm staying late to do non-value-added work for my halfwit Nonsense Boss. The second part of the plan is to eat lunch in every day. Which is pretty sad since lunchtime is the only social life I have these days. The third part of the plan is to stop sleeping. Or at least stick to about an average of 4 hours/night.

(Those of you pointing out that I am blogging despite my obvious lack of time to complete other more important matters, can sit and swivel. I need to talk about this, okay? SO THERE.)

If all goes well, I would have passed my CFA1 with a brilliant score, AND obtained my driver's license by the end of June (which would be too cool as I only started lessons like yesterday). And then the JLPT3 and Mt Everest base camp trek in 2H07, and maybe on 31 Dec 07 I won't feel like I've wasted a whole year (which is exactly how I felt on 31 Dec 06).

And, hopefully, by putting this out in the public domain, I am COMMITTING myself to getting all of these done. Cos if I don't, you can point at me and laugh.

*****

I fucking hate the HR department. How long do they need to sort out the paperwork for my new position? I want OUT and I want it PRONTO. Do they WANT to see me bite the Nonsense Boss's head off? Because I CAN DO IT. It's small, it's empty, and it's attached to the body by a very thin piece of neck. And guess who has six years of job security with the organisation - ME. So ain't nothin stoppin me from doin it 'cept the ZEN within me. And it is FAST RUNNING OUT.

Haiku Monday.

Last Monday that is. I thought it would be a good idea to redirect my "stress energies" to the writing of Haikus. It worked - for one day at least.

As follows, me in blue and my colleague in yellow:

I feel the need to

Express my work feelings through

Power of Haikus


please blow me away
with your talent in rhyming
so what's the story?

Use double spacing

Caps for start of sentences

More pleasing to eyes

when people get old
they need to pick on small things
to feel big again

Some people possess

High standards for aesthetics

Not that you would know


I thought you referred

To the quirks of our bosses

But I see it's you


Some people must learn

The Law of Diminishing

Marginal Returns


Choking. Water. Me.

I must be getting older.

Laws have no meaning.


I feel no sense of

Purpose working here. I feel

Inconsequential


Patience reaps rewards

It will get better with time

Meanwhile there's ice-cream


Patience reaps wrinkles

Cellulite and atrophy

Of muscle and mind.


This could get lengthy

Perhaps it's time for a change

What would you suggest?


Don't know. I think that

Haikus use more brains than work

Makes time pass quickly


I just need more grease.

Cocktail prawn rolls lacked lustre.

And now they're finished.

Everything went pretty much downhill from there, with talk about guavas and gout and German people. Of course this was all pre-Big Job Announcement, these days I don't need Haikus to feel happy.

Exfoliation.

I have been toying with all sorts of ideas on how best to break the silence on my blog. There was the Getting Chatted Up in the Gym Incident, but that news is really dated now, and anyway, you can read about it here. There was also Haiku Day, where I spent many minutes of my work day conversing with my colleagues using haikus - some of which I felt were worthy of publication (on this blog). May I'll put those up some other time. And of course there were any number of bizarre incidents involving fellow colleagues that I could have ranted about.

But now I have it.

Ever since I started work, the primary source of my vexation, the proverbial thorn in my side, the plague in my otherwise alright life, ma main BEEF with da system, has been the several layers above me through which I must clear all my work before it can get to The Biggest Boss. Let me explain this with a simple diagram:

The Biggest Boss

5

The Not-So-Biggest Boss

5

The Bigger Boss

5

The Big Boss

5

The Boss

5

The Nonsense Boss

5

Me

So much of my time is doing unnecessary work, predominantly for The Nonsense Boss, because the bosses between me and The Biggest Boss don't really know what exactly The Biggest Boss wants. And each of these bosses have very different ideas of what The Biggest Boss wants, requiring me to re-do my work in several different versions. I'm sure you can understand how this would drive me fucking crazy.

Anyway, on Friday - which I was having off because I had a driving theory test in the morning - I received a text from The Nonsense Boss that The Big Boss had asked to see me, presumably about my most recent paper. So I went into work just to see him, and it turned out it wasn't because of the paper. Instead, The Big Boss wanted to inform me that I was getting a promotion, leaving me feeling rather stunned. Let me explain why I was stunned by showing you what the previous diagram would look like after my promotion:

The Biggest Boss
5
The Not-So-Biggest Boss
5
Me

As you can see, quite a number of layers have been removed.

And that is how my blogging begins again.