Monday's Survey Interview
Had a nice quiet uneventful weekend. Friday my physical therapist worked my arm mostly to death, but it's feeling better and I'm doing more of the right things so it will continue to feel better.
Saturday R and I went to see Bottle Shock, which was excellent. I sort of intended to see Gonzo on Sunday but I was too lazy to go out. So I stayed home and played with the birds all day. Or rather, let them out so they could play on their own. I did go over my poetry manuscript and changed a few things, but not as much as I feared I'd have to do. I can let it go today if I needed to, so I feel pretty good about that.
Charli wasn't very perky yesterday and took a lot of naps -- which isn't like her, so I'm going to keep an eye on her. She even refused orange juice, which she loves.
I chatted with B a little bit about this new "interview with HR person" thing at work. Some level of management is having a poor innocent soul from HR interview all of us in this department to see how things are. My "survey interview" is this afternoon, and the more I think about it the madder I get. By the time I got to work this morning I was furious, and I imagine my blood pressure was sky high. I fully intend to speak my mind about the crap that goes on around here: how only a select few get big raises in the middle of the year, how certain managers are incompetent, how I and some others feel it's a waste of time to talk to any of the managers or administrators (based on past experience), the blatant favoritism that goes on around here, etc. ad nauseum. It's supposed to be confidential, but I don't believe that mine will be. My job is too different from the others to blend in with everyone else's. And if it's noted that I seem to have a "bad attitude," well, I've certainly earned it.
But in my heart I know none of this will do any good. I've worked here for 24 years and endured all manner of interviews and surveys and questionnaires -- and nothing ever changes. I can tell by her voice that the HR person I'm meeting is young and is most likely new to the place -- she probably believes what she's doing makes a difference. I don't want to be the one to disillusion her -- somebody else will do that soon enough.
Saturday R and I went to see Bottle Shock, which was excellent. I sort of intended to see Gonzo on Sunday but I was too lazy to go out. So I stayed home and played with the birds all day. Or rather, let them out so they could play on their own. I did go over my poetry manuscript and changed a few things, but not as much as I feared I'd have to do. I can let it go today if I needed to, so I feel pretty good about that.
Charli wasn't very perky yesterday and took a lot of naps -- which isn't like her, so I'm going to keep an eye on her. She even refused orange juice, which she loves.
I chatted with B a little bit about this new "interview with HR person" thing at work. Some level of management is having a poor innocent soul from HR interview all of us in this department to see how things are. My "survey interview" is this afternoon, and the more I think about it the madder I get. By the time I got to work this morning I was furious, and I imagine my blood pressure was sky high. I fully intend to speak my mind about the crap that goes on around here: how only a select few get big raises in the middle of the year, how certain managers are incompetent, how I and some others feel it's a waste of time to talk to any of the managers or administrators (based on past experience), the blatant favoritism that goes on around here, etc. ad nauseum. It's supposed to be confidential, but I don't believe that mine will be. My job is too different from the others to blend in with everyone else's. And if it's noted that I seem to have a "bad attitude," well, I've certainly earned it.
But in my heart I know none of this will do any good. I've worked here for 24 years and endured all manner of interviews and surveys and questionnaires -- and nothing ever changes. I can tell by her voice that the HR person I'm meeting is young and is most likely new to the place -- she probably believes what she's doing makes a difference. I don't want to be the one to disillusion her -- somebody else will do that soon enough.
Labels: parrots, physical therapy, work
posted by Beloved Parrot at
9:05 AM
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