Wednesday, September 28, 2005

In The Midnight Owl, She Cried T'Wit T'Woo

I don't enjoy spending 37 hours a day (plus travelling time) stuck at work. I'm not alone, and if you have a job that you enjoy then I'm slightly envious.
Still, my job is better than it was at the start of the year.
At the start of 2005 I was effectively demoted. Our team was downsized and I was stripped of the responsibilities I had. We had a new boss who took on all the duties of our old boss, as well as those that I performed as the senior permanent employee on the team.
It was fair enough, I had a problem with the fact that they'd downsized us at just the wrong time, but I accepted that I'd lose some of the responsibilities with a new manager in a smaller team. It's the way things go at BAe, and I realised that I'd have to move on if I wanted to retain the same sort of level of responsibility.
Within a few weeks of the management change we were given our first appraisal. This was when things went wrong. I was given the lowest grading in the team, and the lowest rating I've had in my 8 years at BAe. Our new boss was technically inept; he didn't overly understand software and had virtually no knowledge of the Nimrod fuel system. When you're boss of the Nimrod fuel software team, that's a bit crap.
I believe he based the grading on what he understood. Producing documents and config control. I was never involved in document generation before, that was daft as I was responsible for the largest amount of the fuel software, so the task was delegated to somebody else with the experience and time to do it. When our new boss took over, he expected me to produce documents. I gave it a go but there were teething problems, as it's a laborious task more suited to those who get a thrill out of config tools.
Anyway, the boss nodded as I outlined in my appraisal that I was responsible for the largest part of the fuel software, and that he had decided to give me all the work of an engineer we'd lost at Christmas on top of that. He still gave me a low grading though. Maybe there were some personal issues in there, I didn't think that at the time but that became clearer later.
Anyway, I responded to the appraisal by writing what I'd outlined in speaking to the boss. I didn't resort to any insults, I just suggested that maybe the guy wasn't aware that I looked after the larger and more complex parts of the system, and that he hadn't had time to realise what my job entailed just yet.
I thought I'd been fair, probably overly fair, after all I think I had the right to complain.
He saw my comments and wrote some more of his own, claiming that I shirked jobs (a lie), that I had a confrontational attitude (hmm, maybe, but never unjustly), and that I'd refused to take back some of my old responsibilities (a twisted half-truth based on the fact that he'd suggested I did the appraisals of a couple of the team, which I refused as I thought it was really unfair on them, which it was). There were some more, and it was interesting to see he'd descended into insults.
I then refused to sign my appraisal off, alarming all the big bosses (who get freaked at this sort of thing as it's linked to their bonuses). I had a meeting with the boss and the big boss lady, in which I tried to outline my point. He sat there with a face on, whilst she just pointedly refused to listen to what I had to say. I ended up swearing at them and walking out.
Heh, winner. That really improved the atmos at work. I didn't really feel like coming in anymore. I think the big boss lady did actually agree with me, but lacked the bottle to undermine the new boss of the team.
So, it was grim for a couple of weeks but then the boss fell ill.
It's seven months later and he's still not back. We know very little, just that it's a "virus", but he apparently won't be back till next year. Some think that it may be stress (oops), but I suspect it probably is just a bad illness. I hope he gets better, and I don't hold a personal grudge. I wouldn't wiosh ill on the guy. I have made it clear though that I will not work under him again. I think this has been accepted.
Anyhow, the reason I'm writing this is that I got my old responsibilities back due to his illness, and as it's become more and more long-term, I have it in a more permanent way. So, I've been demoted, promoted and then sort of promoted again all in 9 months.
It's a poisoned chalice though, as due to rampant mismanagement (not mine, not yet anyway) we'll never meet our deadlines for later in the year. Maybe I'll have to get my own virus to get out of the mess that awaits us.

Poker news. Look away now, non gamblers!
A game of two halves last night. I'm quite a conservative player, one who never trusts the odds, even when they're stacked vastly in my favour. It's what comes of being a gloom-laden pessimist I guess. When I did play the odds, I was beaten with some atrocious luck on the river card. I was beaten three times in a row in hands that the evil gods of probability stated that I should have won. One was so ludicrous that the guy who won typed in 'hahaha, sorry' into the text chat system.
I'd started with about 15 nicker, but was down to about 4. The losses against the odds had withdrawn me even further into my shell, and I was gradually being whittled away.
As I got nearer to being out of it though, I abandoned my usual way of playing and became far more open and adventurous. I became less protective of my measly stack of coins. In about 20 minutes, I turned the 4 squid into about 25, chasing the money of the rash players who try to play an overly aggressive game, and refusing to back down when it looked like I should win the hand. Ah, if only I could easily put aside 31 years of mistrust and doom-mongery, then I'd be quite a good player.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

n=8

Franz Ferdinand. Louis XIV. The Douglas Baader-Meinhof Group.
It seems that groups nowadays are looking towards figures from history as inspiration for band names. Therefore, I would like to add a few to the melting pot -

- John The Baptist
- Anne Hathaway
- Oppenheimer (has that been taken?)
- The Martin Bormann Project
- Ted Rogers

Hmm, Rob on our team has just given me a bag of chillies. They're funny looking things, a type called 'Yellow Bird'. He's something of an expert in the chilli field, and grows lots of his own, varying from the tame and tasty to the virtually fatal. I'll have to think of something to use these in. I can't make chilli again, as I made a vat of that on Friday and we only finished it off yesterday. Still, it was my favourite batch for a long time. Mmm.
Rob is on loan to us from Datel, to cover for absences and the fact that the management vastly underestimated the amount of work we had to do this year (our team stood at 5 people in January, from a peak of 14). They've also given us a guy called Paul on a six-month contract. Paul is a good lad, he doesn't treat the job seriously, he talks utter nonsense and likes good music. We've just been chatting about Shearwater as he heard that I went to see Okkervil River last night. I'm trying to turn him (and the other decent music loving folks in the office) on to The National. I have a queue forming to borrow their albums.
Yeah, I had a nice time last night. I ache this morning and am finding comfort in 'Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada' but last night was cool.
It was nice to see The Superkings again. I thought we were going to be late, but I was working on PrestonTime. I forgot that you can have fun after 11pm in Manchester. We also saw a band called Film School, who I'll see again supporting the National at the Night & Day in November.
Okkervil River are fantastic. It was cool that they remembered their last visit to Manchester (and the stage carpet that could cause death). It's such an exciting noise that they produce and it was great to see them again. Karl may have moaned that they were boring, but what does Karl know? Eh? Karl skips Exit Music whilst listening to OK Computer. Karl is not entitled to opinions on music. He has a sickness.
If this week weren't busy enough, I'd be tempted to travel to Nottingham to see Okkervil again. They is mighty fine.
Oh yeah, if anyone needs a ticket to go and see them in Nottingham then let me know.

We're currently playing Resident Evil 4 on the Gamecube. Not long after the game starts you can find yourself holed up in a decrepit shack, as hordes of what seem like Spanish undead villagers try to get in and cut your noggin off.
Anyway, it plays a short cut scene, as one of the villagers tries to get the others to join in the attack. Now, the villagers speak some sort of nonsense mumbo-jumbo language (I think), but when the villager tries to beckon the others over, he says in a thick undead/Spanish accent "I am Paul Nattrassy". I did a double take, and listened again (after losing our bonce). He does quite clearly say "I am Paul Nattrassy". It's most odd. I'm worried what course this game may take now.
I'll see if I can capture what is said and put it up here.