Unclear who is to pay for all this - the past week at work

Monday

I have to get up early to get to work on time, opening the curtains on what is still darkness. The journey takes me one and three-quarter hours, mostly through grey light, listening to the Today programme. I tell myself it is only for six months.

First a meeting with a team of five researchers who report to me. They are managed by Meredith (tall, thin, late fifties, iron-grey hair, refined Geordie accent, very correct). Tom D, my boss, also attended the meeting, his big head nodding sagely at all the wrong points. Most of the talking was done by researcher Katie (blonde hair in a bob, middle-class, pushy) who complained that the team had nothing to do since the projects they were working on had been abandoned. Tom D told them reassuringly (and I suspect falsely) that new projects were being allocated to them. It was decided to rename the team Information Services, with a general remit to work for all departments in the NGO.

By the time the meeting finished it was lunchtime. I walked out of the building to get some exercise and fresh air, and kept walking until the hour was up. New commercial estate, a few suburban roads, then a messy transition into edge-of-town countryside.

In the afternoon a review meeting with Tom D. He told me "By the end of the month I want you to have a marketing plan that includes individual marketing strategies that have been signed off by each of the department heads". As the department heads have a reputation for being awkward and unco-operative I knew this was not going to be easy.

The rest of the day was spent answering e-mails - every time I leave my desk they seem to flood in.

Tuesday

Every six weeks or so the NGO holds an "awayday" for senior staff. So instead of going to the office this morning I drove about sixty miles to a conference centre in a country mansion (undistinguished Victorian architecture, interior that had a sixteenth-century staircase, damp melancholy gardens). I was wearing fairly casual clothes, but when I got there I found most of the managers were very casual indeed, Operations Manager Ryan M in dark Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt.

Felix S, co-manager in my department, told me to watch how Carmel (manager of Special Projects) behaved. She seemed to latch onto Chief Executive Alec Pressberg, holding his arm and screaming with laughter at his weak jokes. It was odd to see such a grey and characterless individual become the object of her cocquettry (as you might guess, I have taken a dislike to Mr Pressberg).

For most of the sessions we were crammed into a room that was virtually filled with an oval board table. There was a break for coffee (very good coffee) which was served in the main hall, nameless eighteenth-century portraits looking down at us, some of the canvasses having holes and tears in them. Personnel Manager Yasmin took me to one side and told me that Carl, the most junior person who reports to me, was "mad" to get into marketing and that she would arrange for him to have day-release to a marketing course (paid for by the NGO) if I would authorise it - Carl is the son of one of the other managers and it seems as if his employment and education is being off-loaded onto my department.

A lot of the sessions were very boring as we each described what was going on in our departments. Felix S was especially long-winded, droning on about the three major reports his team is producing. Because I have only worked for the NGO just over a week I had hardly anything to say.

Very good lunch of roast lamb. I was sat next to Ryan M whose bad-language and loud comments to everyone else in the room made ordinary conversation impossible. We helped ourselves to puddings on a side table - I had a bowl of sherry trifle followed by the chocolate pear dessert.

By the time the "awayday" ended I had another list of of marketing initiatives I am supposed to launch.

Although it was only four o'clock when we finished no-one was going back to the office.

Wednesday

Slight feeling of panic this morning at the amount of work I have on my desk. I have a team of nine so I ought to be delegating some of the work, but this is not as easy as it sounds. Meryl P, who is supposed to be assisting me, is very obstructive and unwilling to take on new assignments.

Most of the day spent accompanying Tom D to a local government office. They provided a lunch of dry sandwiches. I was not really sure what they wanted from us.

On the way back Tom talked about his background - a choral scholar at a cathedral school, then the civil service, then secondment to the NGO ("I love my job" he said).

In the afternoon a meeting with Carmel about the big launch she is planning. It is unclear who is to pay for all this. She wants a nice venue, a good celebrity to host it, and an audience of about a hundred (out of a list of five hundred targets she produced).

Thursday

This morning Tom D, after several requests from myself, produced a sheet of paper with the department's budget. It was much larger than I anticipated. "All expenditure must be approved by myself" he told me.

Then another trip with Tom to visit a local government headquarters. I don't see the point of these visits since they are never very welcoming to us. Tom told me it was important to build up our networks.

An informal meeting with Leo, who reports to me but is Carmel's son. Aged eighteen he has a big powerful build, fair hair in shaggy ringlets, pale blue eyes that seldom look at you directly. He monitors mentions of the NGO in the media and produces a weekly report - which I suspect no-one really looks at.

After the working day had ended I had to hang around at my desk until 7pm then drive to a local "innovation park" to represent the NGO at a meeting of about fifty local public sector heads. Sour white wine to drink. Interminable discussion about the likely course of government policy.

There were many references to the NGO and eventually someone said "Is there no-one from the NGO here?"

With a sense of foreboding I stood up and explained who I was and said "As I only have two week's experience in the job I'm reluctant to give an opinion."

Someone at the side of the room shouted "Two week's experience is the BEST moment to give your opinion."

Everybody laughed.

Friday

A meeting with Carmel to discuss her launch. I was surprised at how well it seemed to be fitting together. I told her that Tom D had approved payment for the launch from the NGO’s marketing budget.

Lunchtime I walked to the artificial lake at the centre of the commercial estate – lush water plants, abstract statues, a jet-fountain gushing up about six feet in the air. By the lake is a sandwich bar called The Patisserie, selling delicious bagels and cakes. Despite the cold foggy air I sat at one of the outside tables, on the decking, and had a quiet lunch.

In the afternoon I took steps to block a “viral” film being produced by an ad agency for the Innovations department. They told me it would “go viral” on Youtube. I told them it would probably disappear without trace, and I refused to sign-off the expenditure (but a lot of the work has already been done, and I know that the Innovations department will get Alec Pressberg to force through the payment).

Although the office is open until 5pm I noticed that most people left about 3.30, and at 4.30 it seemed pointless to remain in an empty building and I went home myself.