I have decided to return to my Work Diary. Over recent months I stopped it, afraid that I might be discovered. Now I no longer care.MondayI was determined to get to work on time today, after a number of sarky comments from Yvette (the agency "Head"). Arriving at five to nine, I found Yvette and Andrea were there before me, which was gratifying as I could make a lot of noise coming in so that Yvette would know I was in the building. Without even getting a cup of coffee I sat at my desk and began typing up Status Reports.
Almost all of the morning was taken up with the agency weekly meeting. We all sit in Yvette's office while she promulgated her unique commercial philosophy. Always in these meetings there is a point when, without warning (although we have learned to expect it) she sharply picks on someone and asks them what they have been doing over the last few days (today it was the turn of junior Account Executive Duncan, and Yvette was very rude to him, telling him his new business efforts have been inadequate).
The meeting finished by Yvette telling us: "I think you're all quite underpaid by advertising standards" which was encouraging (although not strictly true - the salaries are more or less the going rate except for Duncan who is paid a pittance).
After the meeting I was asked to remain and explain what had happened with our American toy client. I tried very hard not to squirm, although it was difficult. At the end she told me to go with that soft feminine voice she sometimes uses, as if she was Brigitte Bardot sighing
Je t'aime and not a sixteen-stone woman of steel.
Andrea was summoned in to see Yvette, and so long was she in there that Chris (lady who does the accounts) and myself became concerned at her possible fate (Andrea used to be "Head" of the agency and has had a number of run-ins with Yvette).
When Andrea finally emerged she insisted that she and I went to lunch. We went to a nearby Italian cafe mostly frequented by tourists. I had a slice of cold pizza, a savoury croissant, a cup of coffee and a sickly chocolate truffle confection.
Andrea was in an excited mood, and revealed that she and I are to be formed into a new Account Team handling the clients Yvette is bringing in. We will have a new admin assistant (Associate Account Exec) who is to start this week. Because Terry (ultimate MD of the agency) wants the headcount to remain static either Duncan or graphic designer Neil will be laid off.
This information left me with the hope (experienced so many times over the last months and then dashed) that there might be a future at the agency after all. A major concern is that many of the clients on my list have gone very quiet. I resolved to make more calls to them.
I stayed late, wanting to get my Contact Reports up to date. Yvette went upstairs to see Terry (he runs the PR side on the top floor). When she came down at half six I was the only one left in the office and she off-loaded her complaints onto me, expressing disgust at the state the agency had been in before her arrival, and saying that Terry had misled her.
TuesdaySat at my desk this morning, with a pile of work in front of me, I grew nostalgic for the pre-Yvette days when I had been free to do as I pleased. Now everything has to be "accountable" and before doing anything I have to think about the possible repercussions. We are also often put on the spot and asked to explain decisions taken months before Yvette arrived.
Eleanor started today as the new Associate Account Executive. Aged about forty-five, she has short blonde hair, average figure, and a smile that seems a little hostile. Within an hour of arriving she was talking about her abrasive divorce from a Greek person ("Greece is where men are men" said Duncan. "No they're not" said Eleanor, "they're pigs").
Eleanor's arrival gave Yvette an excuse to indulge in her favourite hobby of moving people and furniture around.
In the evening I went from work to a committee meeting of the educational charity I do voluntary work for. We sat in the splendour of the Willingdon Room shivering our way through the agenda because the heating was off. The meeting was very optimistic, discussing access to new funds (just as the charity is about to fail someone leaves it a bequest and it is able to stagger on for a few more years).
We looked furtively at each other when the issue of co-options was discussed. I suspect most of the Council members share my desire to resign and hand our responsibilities to someone new. There are however limits - I heard of a very obnoxious person I knew at university putting out feelers as to whether he could join the Council and clattering about the headquarters in very loud shoes (the building has marble floors).
WednesdayMore introspection as I sat at my desk - I wish I could just get on with things and not have to bother about other people. Since Yvette's arrival the agency has become more stressful but also more exciting. There is a sense of movement after all the stagnation.
During the morning Yvette called us into her room to introduce a new digital media designer (freelance) she had appointed.
In the afternoon Yvette called Andrea and myself into a "review" meeting with our printer. Ange (short for Angela) listened to Yvette's immense list of complaints. Predictably the meeting became confrontational and Ange resigned as our supplier. She stormed out of the office after calling Yvette "Hiawatha" (Andrea giggled).
In the last hour of the working day Yvette called another general meeting and told us how the agency was being restructured. As expected Andrea and I are to form a new Account Team (and privately told we would get pay rises within three months). Neil and Duncan are to be formed into a Creative Team.
ThursdayAll the afternoon was taken up with a general "Group" planning meeting chaired by Terry. I suppose it was a privilege to be invited, although it went on for a tedious length of time and finished by discussing the new contract for the cleaners. Director John W's made unfunny quips the entire time.
By the time we got out of the meeting the rest of the staff were putting on their coats to go home.
After work I went to Kensington to see Adrian. His teenage cousin Antonia opened the door and asked me to wait in the untidy television room as Adrian had gone out for a while. From the television room I could look into the kitchen where I saw Antonia fussing a delicate blue-eyed cat and talking to two lanky youths (no doubt the double-boyfriend Adrian had told me of).
Adrian came back, and Matthew also arrived. We went upstairs to the sitting room and over a bottle of white wine we had one of our long hectoring conversations about politics. Adrian defended the Greens and Liberals, Matthew sneered at all politicians, I was the only one who thought the Conservatives would positively win the next election (as opposed to Labour losing it).
Halfway through Antonia brought up a plate of roast beef sandwiches, telling us "the tomatoes are home grown" (surely not true in November?).
FridayDuncan was very late this morning, adding to the sense that his days are numbered.
I methodically worked through the papers on my desk, and this organised approach (which I don't always manage) paid dividends and I got a lot of things done.
Yvette told Andrea she was not wearing acceptable clothes, and refused to take her with her when she went to see the new printers we have appointed.
This put Andrea in a bad mood, and in turn she gave Duncan a hard time. Duncan is increasingly the butt of jokes in the agency. I try not to join in this baiting.
And the week ended with my finally completing all the Client Status Reports and talking through each of them with Yvette - it doesn't sound much but for me this was a considerable achievement.