Monday
In the morning I asked my boss Tom D how the Marketing Plan had gone down at the Executive Board Weekend.
"They were extremely pleased" he said, "and I mean extremely. Rosemary's exact words were: you've got it right at last." Rosemary is a non-executive director of the NGO (she had attended one of my interviews for the job).
Later he handed me a white envelope marked private and confidential. I felt apprehensive as I opened it, thinking it might be bad news. But it was a letter to CEO Alec Pressberg, praising my contribution to the Marketing Plan ("contribution" is not the right word, I had actually researched and written all of it, but I was so relieved that it had gone well it hardly mattered).
Then into a meeting with the all-women ad agency we use. They are organising a small conference for us, with lots of feminist angles to it. They were despondent at the way the event has had to be cut back due to budget reductions.
Later a meeting about the (controversial) directory we are publishing. This time the response at the meeting was much more positive. I felt progress was finally being made.
Tuesday
At the office there didn't seem a great deal to do. Now the Marketing Plan has been accepted there is a lull until implementation begins. As I sat half-idly at my desk I could hear Caron and Margaret in the Information team talking about gardening.
Without warning Preston, manager of the Innovation Department, asked me to interview a candidate for a vacancy in his department. He explained that the candidate was his son, and so he felt he couldn't do the interview himself. HR manager Yasmin S joined me in the interview.
The candidate's CV said: Winchester, Cambridge, OTC officer cadet, Peterhouse May Ball Committee, Peterhouse rugby and soccer first teams, member of The Symposium banqueting society. Despite such a grand record the candidate was short, slight and insignificant. The interview lasted about thirty minutes.
Afterwards Yasmin asked me if I thought he was suitable for the job. What could I say? I said yes, I suppose he was.
Later I was signing a birthday card for one of the girls upstairs when I became aware that someone had silently moved into the desk opposite me. When I looked up I saw Ryan M, director of the Operations department, smiling that false smile of his (it has a sort of perfect quality, as if he practices it in a mirror). He wanted me to produce some leaflets for his department.
In the afternoon I travelled up to London to attend a meeting with another NGO (one of our partners in a project). Beautiful offices in St James's, the walls white marble. We talked about publicity for the project.
Wednesday
At nine o'clock all the workforce of the NGO was gathered into the claustrophobic Board Room upstairs on the top floor (under the eaves). Alec Pressberg, CEO of the NGO, talked about a "job evaluation" process that will be carried out. All the rumours are that this evaluation will be the prelude for redundancies (doesn't affect me as I am on a fixed-term contract).
Right at the end, after Alec Pressberg has finished speaking, Ryan M told everyone "there's nothing to worry about" (his voice sounding insincere).
A lot of the day spent with Tom D "evaluating" the Information team - I was glad all their contracts are to be renewed (they are being incorporated into the main NGO personnel, having previously been employed by a sub-NGO).
All the afternoon was taken up with meetings, none of them particularly important, all of them over-running.
Thursday
Wonderful shades of grey in the sky as I travelled to work.
All the morning spent on renewing contracts for the Information team.
In the afternoon a meeting to discuss the new directory. A specialist from London joined the meeting and explained how it should be done (and also the opposition we would experience). After the specialist had left I sat with the Information team - all of us were dazed at the scale of the task we have taken on.
Friday
I am becoming fed up with all the meetings I have to endure.
Showing posts with label Work diary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work diary. Show all posts
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Saturday, January 08, 2011
He will make a complete hash of the presentation - the past week at work
Tuesday
First day back at work. I was tired all day. I suppose this is because I have been so lazy over the holiday.
Arriving at the office, lots of people seemed to be missing today.
I went up to the Operations department (first floor west) and only Kate was there (blonde, shortish, flirtatious in a married woman sort of way).
Without any preamble she asked me how old I was: "We were wondering because it's hard to tell. You look as if you could be in your late twenties. But it's hard to tell."
I ignored her question and talked about the promotional plan I had done for the Operations team. Jamie came in and we discussed the plan in detail (Jamie is mid-thirties, short spiky gelled hair, cynical about everything, slightly humourless, he is assistant to Operations head Ryan M). It was obvious that neither Kate nor Jamie would make a decision unless Ryan M was there.
A lot of the day I spent getting the Marketing Plan (which I am responsible for) into a presentable state. Margaret (in the Information Services team) laid out the text. Leo (the junior in my department) worked on graphs and charts.
A long talk in the afternoon with Felix S who heads the Statistics & Evaluation team (mid forties, very formal, wears glasses that enlarge his eyes so that he looks as if he is permanently surprised). We discussed how his Market Research Plan will link in with my Marketing Plan. He told me gossip that was circulating about how Finance Director Bonar B intended to oppose our boss Communications Director Tom Daw at the Executive Board Weekend.
Wednesday
A fairly relaxed kind of day. First thing I gave Leo a lot of filing to do, and he looked reproachfully at me from under his unkempt yellow hair, as if he was a golden labrador. As soon as I sat down at my desk I felt hungry and had to walk to the little kiosk at the centre of the business park where I bought cheese rolls, ice cream, a bar of chocolate and a small packet of biscuits.
In the afternoon freelance film-maker John Engel arrived at reception and asked for me. I was completely bemused by this until I worked out that Tom D had told him to attend an interview for a job with the NGO (in my team!). This was complete news to me, and I had to bluster my way through the interview without knowing what I was supposed to be interviewing him for.
Thursday
Leo morose and unco-operative this morning. I found out that he had done hardly any of the filing I had given him. He is the son of one of the other department heads, so it is difficult to tell him his work is inadequate (in any case, he is only working at the NGO to save money for his gap year).
Finally Tom D (my boss) is back. He immediately called a meeting with Felix S and myself to discuss the future of the Information Services team. At last we got to see the accounts for the team (which is set up as an NGO within the bigger NGO). The figures were not encouraging - the Information Services team was running at £60k pa over income (which comes from various grants). Tom D was so worried about this that he called in CEO Alec Pressberg (dour, late fifties, thinning grey hair). Alec Pressberg told Tom D to make two people redundant.
Tom D gave hardly any thought to the redundancy process and told us who he had selected (the "consultation" and all the other paperwork would be made to fit later).
Although I was not involved in this decision it made me feel guilty the rest of the day.
I am also becoming disillusioned about Tom D's irresponsible attitude to budgets - he spends money without any thought as to where it will come from.
At the end of the day I saw my Marketing Plan prepared for Tom D to present at the Executive Board Weekend, and I was disappointed at the unsuitable way the hard copies had been bound.
Friday
Most of the morning spent in a meeting with Tom D explaining the Marketing Plan to him point by point so that he can present it at the Executive Board Weekend. Felix S was also present explaining the Statistics & Evaluation Plan. I don't think Tom really understood what I was saying to him, and probably he will make a complete hash of the presentation.
In the afternoon a meeting with Jamie and Kate from the Operations team. They wanted me to meet three of their "stakeholders". It was hard work explaining to them the basics of image building.
Towards the end of the afternoon HR manager Yasmin S came to sit in the chair opposite me. She was furious at Tom D's behaviour over the redundancies, which is causing a lot of problems for her (he had just telephoned the two people, telling them over the 'phone their jobs were at risk). We talked for about an hour about the NGO and all the aspects we were not happy about.
First day back at work. I was tired all day. I suppose this is because I have been so lazy over the holiday.
Arriving at the office, lots of people seemed to be missing today.
I went up to the Operations department (first floor west) and only Kate was there (blonde, shortish, flirtatious in a married woman sort of way).
Without any preamble she asked me how old I was: "We were wondering because it's hard to tell. You look as if you could be in your late twenties. But it's hard to tell."
I ignored her question and talked about the promotional plan I had done for the Operations team. Jamie came in and we discussed the plan in detail (Jamie is mid-thirties, short spiky gelled hair, cynical about everything, slightly humourless, he is assistant to Operations head Ryan M). It was obvious that neither Kate nor Jamie would make a decision unless Ryan M was there.
A lot of the day I spent getting the Marketing Plan (which I am responsible for) into a presentable state. Margaret (in the Information Services team) laid out the text. Leo (the junior in my department) worked on graphs and charts.
A long talk in the afternoon with Felix S who heads the Statistics & Evaluation team (mid forties, very formal, wears glasses that enlarge his eyes so that he looks as if he is permanently surprised). We discussed how his Market Research Plan will link in with my Marketing Plan. He told me gossip that was circulating about how Finance Director Bonar B intended to oppose our boss Communications Director Tom Daw at the Executive Board Weekend.
Wednesday
A fairly relaxed kind of day. First thing I gave Leo a lot of filing to do, and he looked reproachfully at me from under his unkempt yellow hair, as if he was a golden labrador. As soon as I sat down at my desk I felt hungry and had to walk to the little kiosk at the centre of the business park where I bought cheese rolls, ice cream, a bar of chocolate and a small packet of biscuits.
In the afternoon freelance film-maker John Engel arrived at reception and asked for me. I was completely bemused by this until I worked out that Tom D had told him to attend an interview for a job with the NGO (in my team!). This was complete news to me, and I had to bluster my way through the interview without knowing what I was supposed to be interviewing him for.
Thursday
Leo morose and unco-operative this morning. I found out that he had done hardly any of the filing I had given him. He is the son of one of the other department heads, so it is difficult to tell him his work is inadequate (in any case, he is only working at the NGO to save money for his gap year).
Finally Tom D (my boss) is back. He immediately called a meeting with Felix S and myself to discuss the future of the Information Services team. At last we got to see the accounts for the team (which is set up as an NGO within the bigger NGO). The figures were not encouraging - the Information Services team was running at £60k pa over income (which comes from various grants). Tom D was so worried about this that he called in CEO Alec Pressberg (dour, late fifties, thinning grey hair). Alec Pressberg told Tom D to make two people redundant.
Tom D gave hardly any thought to the redundancy process and told us who he had selected (the "consultation" and all the other paperwork would be made to fit later).
Although I was not involved in this decision it made me feel guilty the rest of the day.
I am also becoming disillusioned about Tom D's irresponsible attitude to budgets - he spends money without any thought as to where it will come from.
At the end of the day I saw my Marketing Plan prepared for Tom D to present at the Executive Board Weekend, and I was disappointed at the unsuitable way the hard copies had been bound.
Friday
Most of the morning spent in a meeting with Tom D explaining the Marketing Plan to him point by point so that he can present it at the Executive Board Weekend. Felix S was also present explaining the Statistics & Evaluation Plan. I don't think Tom really understood what I was saying to him, and probably he will make a complete hash of the presentation.
In the afternoon a meeting with Jamie and Kate from the Operations team. They wanted me to meet three of their "stakeholders". It was hard work explaining to them the basics of image building.
Towards the end of the afternoon HR manager Yasmin S came to sit in the chair opposite me. She was furious at Tom D's behaviour over the redundancies, which is causing a lot of problems for her (he had just telephoned the two people, telling them over the 'phone their jobs were at risk). We talked for about an hour about the NGO and all the aspects we were not happy about.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
It's all a game really - the past week at work
Monday
Meetings in the morning, including a meeting with Tom D, my immediate boss just back from holiday.
"I've had good reports about you from other managers" he told me.
More meetings in the afternoon, including a collaborative meeting with two government departments over a joint Directory we want to produce - they were not very positive about the idea.
Still working on the marketing plan.
Tuesday
We have decided to go ahead with the Directory unilaterally. It is an example of the "white" publicity we do (we also do "black" publicity, but I cannot write about that). I have given the project to the Research team, and it is good to see them excited and enthusiastic for a change.
Giving them this project has probably saved them from redundancy.
At lunchtime I walked to the lakeside cafe, compacted snow underfoot. The wide shallow lake was frozen. A smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel and an almond pastry, with a cup of coffee.
In the afternoon a long meeting with Paul Preston (manages the Innovative Development team) about his section of the Marketing Plan. He agreed with all my proposals, but not without an excessive amount of talking. I am unsure whether Paul Preston is a sincere person or not.
At the end of the working day a talk with Felix S (wooden, haltering, very old for 45) about evaluation measures for the marketing team. He is in charge of evaluation for every section of the NGO. He told me (privately) that evaluation means whatever you want it to mean - I interpreted this as a friendly hint that he would support my work.
Wednesday
Another day spent attending an "informal" meeting of the NGO's "stakeholders". I am the only person from the NGO to attend these meetings, which are not minuted. When I return to the office I have to give a verbal report to Tom D and to the NGO's CEO Alec Pressberg.
Anyway, a long drive into the Midlands to the impersonal luxury of a big hotel. In one of the meeting rooms (silent, plush, beige-coloured) the Steering Committee gave their various reports. Despite the prohibition against taking minutes I had to make notes otherwise I would not have remembered everything.
I caused a stir when I announced that the NGO was going ahead with the Directory project, funding it directly ourselves.
After the meeting lunch was served in the wide corridor outside. Looking to the right I could see the remains of other lunches, presumably left by other meetings taking place in the hotel. Not for the first time I felt how insubstantial everything was, and also how bland (bland people, bland hotel, bland food etc).
Thursday
Every few weeks Tom D holds a review meeting of all the departments under his control (Marketing, the Research team, and Statistics & Evaluation). I met several of the Research team for the first time, as normally they work from home. Half-way through the meeting Carmel (Special Projects launch) called me out to reveal that the celebrity booked for her launch had just cancelled.
In the afternoon I went to an awards ceremony held at a university college. The Baroness giving the awards launched into an attack on the government. The food was very good.
In the afternoon a meeting with Ryan M who manages the Operational Team (aged about 30, hyper-active, swears a lot). He has been one of the most difficult people for me to liaise with, but I cannot ignore him as his department is so important. I had prepared a draft of his section of the Marketing Plan and attempted to talk it through with him. He was petulant and unco-operative, and dismissed my proposals without suggesting any alternatives. Normally I would walk away from such an unpromising situation, but I do not have any other choice but to try to get Ryan M to contribute to the Marketing Plan. So I sat there for an hour being pleasant and polite and trying to get agreement.
Later, when I was walking behind one of the partitions in the Reception area, I heard Ryan M loudly denouncing the Marketing Plan to Alan Pressberg.
At 5 o'clock, just as I was preparing to go home, Yasmin S (HR manager) flopped into the desk opposite me and told me how she hated making herself unpopular with her subordinates. This confession from such a strong young woman surprised me. I told her it was not possible to be friends with people you have to manage.
Friday
The offices were strangely quiet when I arrived this morning, many people taking the day off because of the bad weather warnings (there is also a tradition of civil service laziness, which the NGO has adopted, that means very little gets done on a Friday).
News that the Special Projects launch has been suspended because of funding difficulties (Carmel was cynical about this: "It's all a game really, no-one here takes work seriously").
To my amazement all the sections of the Marketing Plan have been signed off by department managers, including Ryan M. I discussed the Plan with Tom D ("they have either accepted the Plan because they havn't read it, because they havn't understood it, or because they are going to launch a counter-attack at the Board Weekend"). Finally finishing this Plan is a great relief for me.
Meetings in the morning, including a meeting with Tom D, my immediate boss just back from holiday.
"I've had good reports about you from other managers" he told me.
More meetings in the afternoon, including a collaborative meeting with two government departments over a joint Directory we want to produce - they were not very positive about the idea.
Still working on the marketing plan.
Tuesday
We have decided to go ahead with the Directory unilaterally. It is an example of the "white" publicity we do (we also do "black" publicity, but I cannot write about that). I have given the project to the Research team, and it is good to see them excited and enthusiastic for a change.
Giving them this project has probably saved them from redundancy.
At lunchtime I walked to the lakeside cafe, compacted snow underfoot. The wide shallow lake was frozen. A smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel and an almond pastry, with a cup of coffee.
In the afternoon a long meeting with Paul Preston (manages the Innovative Development team) about his section of the Marketing Plan. He agreed with all my proposals, but not without an excessive amount of talking. I am unsure whether Paul Preston is a sincere person or not.
At the end of the working day a talk with Felix S (wooden, haltering, very old for 45) about evaluation measures for the marketing team. He is in charge of evaluation for every section of the NGO. He told me (privately) that evaluation means whatever you want it to mean - I interpreted this as a friendly hint that he would support my work.
Wednesday
Another day spent attending an "informal" meeting of the NGO's "stakeholders". I am the only person from the NGO to attend these meetings, which are not minuted. When I return to the office I have to give a verbal report to Tom D and to the NGO's CEO Alec Pressberg.
Anyway, a long drive into the Midlands to the impersonal luxury of a big hotel. In one of the meeting rooms (silent, plush, beige-coloured) the Steering Committee gave their various reports. Despite the prohibition against taking minutes I had to make notes otherwise I would not have remembered everything.
I caused a stir when I announced that the NGO was going ahead with the Directory project, funding it directly ourselves.
After the meeting lunch was served in the wide corridor outside. Looking to the right I could see the remains of other lunches, presumably left by other meetings taking place in the hotel. Not for the first time I felt how insubstantial everything was, and also how bland (bland people, bland hotel, bland food etc).
Thursday
Every few weeks Tom D holds a review meeting of all the departments under his control (Marketing, the Research team, and Statistics & Evaluation). I met several of the Research team for the first time, as normally they work from home. Half-way through the meeting Carmel (Special Projects launch) called me out to reveal that the celebrity booked for her launch had just cancelled.
In the afternoon I went to an awards ceremony held at a university college. The Baroness giving the awards launched into an attack on the government. The food was very good.
In the afternoon a meeting with Ryan M who manages the Operational Team (aged about 30, hyper-active, swears a lot). He has been one of the most difficult people for me to liaise with, but I cannot ignore him as his department is so important. I had prepared a draft of his section of the Marketing Plan and attempted to talk it through with him. He was petulant and unco-operative, and dismissed my proposals without suggesting any alternatives. Normally I would walk away from such an unpromising situation, but I do not have any other choice but to try to get Ryan M to contribute to the Marketing Plan. So I sat there for an hour being pleasant and polite and trying to get agreement.
Later, when I was walking behind one of the partitions in the Reception area, I heard Ryan M loudly denouncing the Marketing Plan to Alan Pressberg.
At 5 o'clock, just as I was preparing to go home, Yasmin S (HR manager) flopped into the desk opposite me and told me how she hated making herself unpopular with her subordinates. This confession from such a strong young woman surprised me. I told her it was not possible to be friends with people you have to manage.
Friday
The offices were strangely quiet when I arrived this morning, many people taking the day off because of the bad weather warnings (there is also a tradition of civil service laziness, which the NGO has adopted, that means very little gets done on a Friday).
News that the Special Projects launch has been suspended because of funding difficulties (Carmel was cynical about this: "It's all a game really, no-one here takes work seriously").
To my amazement all the sections of the Marketing Plan have been signed off by department managers, including Ryan M. I discussed the Plan with Tom D ("they have either accepted the Plan because they havn't read it, because they havn't understood it, or because they are going to launch a counter-attack at the Board Weekend"). Finally finishing this Plan is a great relief for me.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
They only used one line - the past week at work
Monday
Over the weekend I had worked on the Marketing Plan for the NGO. This despite my resolution never to take work home. I have to be careful over the details of the Plan as it will be presented by my boss, Director Tom D, at the Executive Board Weekend.
When I got to the office I was surprised to see my deputy Meryl P at her desk. I had thought she was on holiday this week. She was still not doing any work (and did no real work of any kind all day) but talked at length about the UNISON Women's Conference in February.
Tom D away all week, which was a relief, since I knew nothing would be added to my workload.
I had been booked to go on a two-day training course in London, but unilaterally I decided to cancel it ("this is my first act of defiance" I said to Carmel, Special Projects manager).
In the afternoon I was asked at short notice to give a talk on marketing to a gathering upstairs of twenty consultants.
Tuesday
A lot of the NGO's work involves liaising with public sector organisations - often difficult people to work with.
Meryl P spent the whole day on trade union work - I just let her get on with it.
A meeting with colleague Felix S who is so long-winded that a huge amount of time was spent discussing a very small aspect of his research findings.
A lot of the day spent preparing for the Special Projects launch.
Wednesday
Hectic day. A rep arrived from a specialist telemarketing company we are going to use to ensure a good audience for the Special Projects launch. A lot of the morning spent with the Special Projects team going over the script that will be used by the telemarketers (because of the confidential nature of Special Projects there is a very limited amount of information we can give away).
Then a meeting about a directory the NGO is to produce.
Then a meeting with two idiots from the Health & Safety Executive (nothing to do with marketing but I think I was delegated to meet them because no-one else wanted to).
The HSE meeting was interrupted by an agitated Carmel, her desiccated face contorted with angst. The printed invitations for the Special Projects launch had been delivered with half of the NGO's logo missing. I had to break off the meeting and complain to the printing company, insisting on a reprint free of charge.
At the end of the day I gave a short radio interview. I talked for about fifteen minutes and when I listened to the broadcast later they only used one line of it. Normally Tom D would do these interviews.
Thursday
The reprinted Special Projects invitations were on my desk when I arrived this morning.
Another meeting about the Special Projects launch. I made sure Meryl P attended the meeting and was given tasks to carry out. If she fails to do this work it will be very serious (not least because Carmel will be involved, and she is someone who shouts her head off to get her own way).
Lunch with Felix in the George III pub (low beams and an open fire). He talked mostly about office politics. He told me he mistrusts the private sector.
I left early to go into London.
Friday
Most of the day with Carmel looking at potential venues for the Special Projects launch. Nothing seemed to be suitable. Aged about 55 Carmel is thin, loud and extrovert. Heavily lined face with fake tan and bright red lipstick. Her hair dyed a deep red colour. We visited six venues and she turned them all down (luckily because of the "confidential" nature of the launch we didn't need to print the venue on the invitations).
Over the weekend I had worked on the Marketing Plan for the NGO. This despite my resolution never to take work home. I have to be careful over the details of the Plan as it will be presented by my boss, Director Tom D, at the Executive Board Weekend.
When I got to the office I was surprised to see my deputy Meryl P at her desk. I had thought she was on holiday this week. She was still not doing any work (and did no real work of any kind all day) but talked at length about the UNISON Women's Conference in February.
Tom D away all week, which was a relief, since I knew nothing would be added to my workload.
I had been booked to go on a two-day training course in London, but unilaterally I decided to cancel it ("this is my first act of defiance" I said to Carmel, Special Projects manager).
In the afternoon I was asked at short notice to give a talk on marketing to a gathering upstairs of twenty consultants.
Tuesday
A lot of the NGO's work involves liaising with public sector organisations - often difficult people to work with.
Meryl P spent the whole day on trade union work - I just let her get on with it.
A meeting with colleague Felix S who is so long-winded that a huge amount of time was spent discussing a very small aspect of his research findings.
A lot of the day spent preparing for the Special Projects launch.
Wednesday
Hectic day. A rep arrived from a specialist telemarketing company we are going to use to ensure a good audience for the Special Projects launch. A lot of the morning spent with the Special Projects team going over the script that will be used by the telemarketers (because of the confidential nature of Special Projects there is a very limited amount of information we can give away).
Then a meeting about a directory the NGO is to produce.
Then a meeting with two idiots from the Health & Safety Executive (nothing to do with marketing but I think I was delegated to meet them because no-one else wanted to).
The HSE meeting was interrupted by an agitated Carmel, her desiccated face contorted with angst. The printed invitations for the Special Projects launch had been delivered with half of the NGO's logo missing. I had to break off the meeting and complain to the printing company, insisting on a reprint free of charge.
At the end of the day I gave a short radio interview. I talked for about fifteen minutes and when I listened to the broadcast later they only used one line of it. Normally Tom D would do these interviews.
Thursday
The reprinted Special Projects invitations were on my desk when I arrived this morning.
Another meeting about the Special Projects launch. I made sure Meryl P attended the meeting and was given tasks to carry out. If she fails to do this work it will be very serious (not least because Carmel will be involved, and she is someone who shouts her head off to get her own way).
Lunch with Felix in the George III pub (low beams and an open fire). He talked mostly about office politics. He told me he mistrusts the private sector.
I left early to go into London.
Friday
Most of the day with Carmel looking at potential venues for the Special Projects launch. Nothing seemed to be suitable. Aged about 55 Carmel is thin, loud and extrovert. Heavily lined face with fake tan and bright red lipstick. Her hair dyed a deep red colour. We visited six venues and she turned them all down (luckily because of the "confidential" nature of the launch we didn't need to print the venue on the invitations).
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Experiencing delayed shock - the past week at work
Above: I borrowed this book from HR manager Yasmin S, but it doesn't tell you anything you don't already know.
Monday
As soon as I arrived I was called into a meeting with Tom D, my immediate boss. After a few perfunctory enquiries about my weekend he started off-loading work onto me. He also introduced me to two 16-year-old schoolgirls who are work-shadowing various people in the NGO.
Having been allocated the two girls for most of the morning, I let them sit in on a meeting with one of the ad agencies we use. Then into a meeting with a telemarketing company that we will use to get attendees for the Special Projects launch (all the targets have to be CEOs). Carmel, who is the Special Projects manager, couldn't attend the meeting so we were joined by her assistant Elaine (faded, fortyish, has the look of a troublemaker).
In the afternoon Tom D was asking where Meryl P was (she reports to me). After searching the building I found her up in the tearoom, talking to Leo (also in my department). Apparently she has been disappearing in this way most afternoons.
Later I rearranged the desks, moving Meryl so that she now sits directly facing me - previously she had been round a corner and out of sight. There was no direct opposition from Meryl, although she was obviously not happy about the move. When I told Tom D what I had done he was astounded that she had been so compliant.
Tuesday
The middle parts of the week are always the worst in terms of tiredness and fatigue.
Horrible weather today, including some freezing fog. About half-way on the journey to work there is a point where the road goes over a ridge and down into a shallow valley. The fog in this valley became very dense, and I could only see a short distance ahead.
I had to break sharply because of a queue of cars in the road, stopped by an accident (I could see the blue police lights flashing in the distance). As I joined the end of the queue and stopped my car I looked into the rearview mirror and saw a red car speeding towards me and making no attempt to slow down. A few seconds later the red car hit with an immense smashing sound, shunting my car forward to hit the vehicle in front.
From the red car an overweight woman in very casual clothes got out, wailing and apologising. It was impossible to talk to her as she picked up a toddler and ran off down the road to get the police. The woman from the car in front got out and we talked by the side of the road - she seemed even calmer than I was about the incident.
None of the three cars seemed damaged, despite the force of the impact. We slowed down the traffic that still came down the ridge, driving far too fast. Eventually the woman from the red car returned, accompanied by the police, and at the same time the woman's husband appeared, running out of the fog like a parody of Wuthering Heights.
I was glad the police were there as the man became very agitated, shouting at each of us (including his wife) about the accident. Eventually the police told him that if he didn't calm down "...only this car will be charged with driving without due care and attention" (they indicated the red vehicle). We all exchanged insurance details.
I arrived in the office very late and described the accident. I said my car didn't seem damaged, but one of the research team was insistent that I should get it checked. So at lunchtime I drove into the town and was told, by a diffident mechanic, that there was £900 worth of damage underneath my car.
I didn't do much the rest of the day. I suppose I was experiencing delayed shock. I drove home very carefully.
Wednesday
I spent the day attending a regional meeting of "stake-holders" associated with the NGO. This meant driving to a Midlands city. Normally I would have gone by train, but the bad weather has made the services unreliable.
The journey went well until I got to the city and took a wrong turning. Eventually I found my way to the big impersonal hotel where the meeting was being held. They had already started when I arrived but instead of hurrying into the meeting room I paused and had some coffee in the broad deserted corridor outside (the side tables strewn with used cups, the urns mostly emptied, giving the place a Marie Celeste feel).
Into the meeting and I didn't understand a word they were talking about.
"This new process should really speed-up efficiency" said one.
"You mean we'll reach the cock-up stage more quickly" said another.
Lunch was sandwiches and more coffee, served in the corridor outside. I did some networking and picked up a few ideas. Everyone told me how "political" life in the NGO was.
I went home after the meeting and worked on developing the NGO's marketing plan.
Thursday
Meryl was more subdued today, although still not doing any work.
A meeting with Leo and Elaine over the Special Projects launch - we seemed to make good progress.
A graphic designer from an ad agency we use arrived with some visuals - his jeans were so torn they looked shredded, and I could see out CEO Alec Pressberg frowning as I took the designer through to a meeting room.
Friday
Most of the morning I spent working on the marketing plan.
At 11.30 Tom D appeared at my desk looking restless and troubled. He was going away that evening, but had left his travel documents on his kitchen table. He couldn't go and get them as he was about to go into an important meeting.
Taking his housekeys I drove to his house (a journey that took me over an hour). Entering the house it seemed absolutely still. Going through to the kitchen I saw the travel documents immediately and picked them up. A tabby cat was curled up next to the stove, loud purr as I stroked it.
Although I am normally curious, for some reason I had no interest in looking around the house, and was actually relieved to get out of the place. Horrible journey back to the office. Small signs that the ice and snow may be receding.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Office politics (which we all seem mired in) - the past week at work
Monday
Most of the morning I spent talking to the Information Services team. These five researchers have nothing to research since their projects were ended. Their manager had got a job elsewhere and rather than appoint a new manager they had simply been reassigned to the marketing department a couple of weeks before my arrival.
The expectation (among other managers) is that they will probably be made redundant, but I am determined to have nothing to do with this - I am on a temporary contract, and I don't need to get involved in this kind of unpleasant work.
Then a meeting with Ryan M, manager of the Operations Team. We discussed his marketing requirements for 2011, interspersed with many anecdotes connected with his love of football - both as a player for a local club and as a Chelsea supporter. He told me he had a fiery temper on the football pitch and often gets sent off (evidence of this sporting aggression is a small scar under his right eye).
Early afternoon a meeting with Meryl P who did my job before I was appointed, and had been demoted for incompetence. I am supposed to be supervising her work and training her to take back her old job when I leave. However she does not seem to be interested in getting her old job back, and whenever I try to delegate work to her she claims to be too busy. Presumably she is still feeling hurt and humiliated. There are two ways I can tackle this - I can either micro-manage every hour of her day until she co-operates, or I can leave her to do as much or as little as she likes. For the time being I am leaving her alone, but the downside of this is that I'm not getting any help with my ever-growing workload.
Late afternoon a meeting with my boss Tom D and Felix S who manages the other half of the department (statistics). It was a budget planning meeting. Although everyone else in the NGO is talking about budgets being cut, Tom D was confident our 2011 marketing budget would see a twenty per cent increase (his big head nodded, his wide mouth shaped into an even wider smile, his lips glistening with saliva).
I stayed in the office until six o'clock, then up to the Boardroom for a meeting about Information Services. I had not realised that Information Services had been an NGO within an NGO with a separate board. This board was now being dissolved and the team formally absorbed into the main NGO.
Present at this meeting was Tom D and two other board members whom I had never seen before. There was a lot of comments about how "difficult" the Information Services team had been to manage. I was asked to leave the room while a final remuneration payment for the two board members was negotiated with Tom D (although I saw later how much they had been paid).
Afterwards the meeting adjourned to a local hotel for a board dinner paid for out of the Information Services budget (this dinner had been an annual event, although as the NGO had been dissolved you would think they would have dispensed with it).
The hotel was a large Victorian villa, the dining room of which had been turned into a restaurant with five tables. The room was panelled and the over-furnished. Two other tables were occupied. The four of us had drinks at the bar (Campari, which tasted like cough mixture, with caviar on strips of toast) then took our places at one of the tables. The food was excellent, served with very good wines. Haddock and prawns wrapped in pastry, an enormous steak, a huge slice of chocolate gateau.
Tom D entertained the other two with a lot of management machismo talk.
Tuesday
No need to go to the office today, so I got up quite late.
At eleven I left the house and drove about seventy miles to the village where Tom D lives. He had asked Felix S and myself to a meeting at his home so that we could plan things "away from office distractions". His house was a modern building, detached but not large, 21st century bourgeois interiors.
Almost as soon as we arrived we had lunch of lasagna with a fizzy Italian wine, followed by cheeses and biscuits, followed by a glass of port. Tom's wife hovered in the kitchen, although she could have joined us at the meal. When the table had been cleared a large cafetiere of coffee was brought through.
We discussed management issues connected to our department. The budgets for 2011 have been agreed by Alec Pressberg (CEO of the NGO) and Tom's allocation has been increased by about twenty per cent (exactly as he had predicted). Tom then divided this money up - some to Felix, some to a general fund, and the remainder to Marketing controlled by myself.
The Marketing budget is huge, the largest I have ever controlled.
"The money is yours to spend as you see fit" Tom said to me, "I don't want you to feel that you have to okay things with me first" (this directly contradicts what he has said to me previously, that I have to clear ALL expenditure with him first).
The meeting finished at 4.30 and I was home by 6.
Wednesday
On the journey to work each day I have mapped out in my mind exactly what I want to do. But when I get to my desk it all seems so complex and chaotic. I am also getting a headache each day, usually in the afternoon.
A visit from Baptist Minister Caleb who is a sort of unofficial adviser to the NGO (or perhaps he does have an official role that I don't know about?). He stood by my desk chatting. Most of his anecdotes consist of massive rows that he has with people and that he always wins triumphantly.
In the afternoon a meeting with Preston who manages the Innovative department. I had been warned that he could be difficult so it was a relief the meeting went well. We talked over various marketing campaigns he wanted to do next year.
Two people came to see me from the all-women advertising agency that is producing the NGO's magazine. We went into one of the glass-walled meeting rooms. They had a selection of digital photographs for me to choose an image for the front cover ("you can't have that one, it hasn't got a woman in it").
Thursday
A day when things seemed more under control.
During the morning a meeting with the Information Services team, giving them research projects on behalf of the other departments. They responded to the new work with enthusiasm. They are very nice people and I like talking to them.
Lunchtime I went to a pub with Felix S and Personnel Manager Yasmin. It was a rowdy pub with a group of lads at the bar singing along to the chorus of Cee Lo Green's Forget You (but instead of "forget" they sang a different f-word). We sat in a bay window and talked about office politics (which we all seem mired in).
http://www.muzu.tv/ceelogreen/forget-you-music-video/733531?country=gb&locale=en
Friday
Another long meeting with Preston in his Innovative department (half of the ground floor in the right-hand side of the building). He has a sort of maverick reputation, but I suspect he just enjoys being provocative. He told me it was a relief to talk to me, and that finally he thought someone in the NGO was on his wavelength.
Then into a database meeting, chaired by Felix S (the master database is under his control). Felix so vague and waffling that I felt myself becoming irritable. At one stage everyone in the meeting was criticising Felix.
The afternoon spent Special Projects manager Carmel, visiting possible venues for her launch - none of them were suitable.
Most of the morning I spent talking to the Information Services team. These five researchers have nothing to research since their projects were ended. Their manager had got a job elsewhere and rather than appoint a new manager they had simply been reassigned to the marketing department a couple of weeks before my arrival.
The expectation (among other managers) is that they will probably be made redundant, but I am determined to have nothing to do with this - I am on a temporary contract, and I don't need to get involved in this kind of unpleasant work.
Then a meeting with Ryan M, manager of the Operations Team. We discussed his marketing requirements for 2011, interspersed with many anecdotes connected with his love of football - both as a player for a local club and as a Chelsea supporter. He told me he had a fiery temper on the football pitch and often gets sent off (evidence of this sporting aggression is a small scar under his right eye).
Early afternoon a meeting with Meryl P who did my job before I was appointed, and had been demoted for incompetence. I am supposed to be supervising her work and training her to take back her old job when I leave. However she does not seem to be interested in getting her old job back, and whenever I try to delegate work to her she claims to be too busy. Presumably she is still feeling hurt and humiliated. There are two ways I can tackle this - I can either micro-manage every hour of her day until she co-operates, or I can leave her to do as much or as little as she likes. For the time being I am leaving her alone, but the downside of this is that I'm not getting any help with my ever-growing workload.
Late afternoon a meeting with my boss Tom D and Felix S who manages the other half of the department (statistics). It was a budget planning meeting. Although everyone else in the NGO is talking about budgets being cut, Tom D was confident our 2011 marketing budget would see a twenty per cent increase (his big head nodded, his wide mouth shaped into an even wider smile, his lips glistening with saliva).
I stayed in the office until six o'clock, then up to the Boardroom for a meeting about Information Services. I had not realised that Information Services had been an NGO within an NGO with a separate board. This board was now being dissolved and the team formally absorbed into the main NGO.
Present at this meeting was Tom D and two other board members whom I had never seen before. There was a lot of comments about how "difficult" the Information Services team had been to manage. I was asked to leave the room while a final remuneration payment for the two board members was negotiated with Tom D (although I saw later how much they had been paid).
Afterwards the meeting adjourned to a local hotel for a board dinner paid for out of the Information Services budget (this dinner had been an annual event, although as the NGO had been dissolved you would think they would have dispensed with it).
The hotel was a large Victorian villa, the dining room of which had been turned into a restaurant with five tables. The room was panelled and the over-furnished. Two other tables were occupied. The four of us had drinks at the bar (Campari, which tasted like cough mixture, with caviar on strips of toast) then took our places at one of the tables. The food was excellent, served with very good wines. Haddock and prawns wrapped in pastry, an enormous steak, a huge slice of chocolate gateau.
Tom D entertained the other two with a lot of management machismo talk.
Tuesday
No need to go to the office today, so I got up quite late.
At eleven I left the house and drove about seventy miles to the village where Tom D lives. He had asked Felix S and myself to a meeting at his home so that we could plan things "away from office distractions". His house was a modern building, detached but not large, 21st century bourgeois interiors.
Almost as soon as we arrived we had lunch of lasagna with a fizzy Italian wine, followed by cheeses and biscuits, followed by a glass of port. Tom's wife hovered in the kitchen, although she could have joined us at the meal. When the table had been cleared a large cafetiere of coffee was brought through.
We discussed management issues connected to our department. The budgets for 2011 have been agreed by Alec Pressberg (CEO of the NGO) and Tom's allocation has been increased by about twenty per cent (exactly as he had predicted). Tom then divided this money up - some to Felix, some to a general fund, and the remainder to Marketing controlled by myself.
The Marketing budget is huge, the largest I have ever controlled.
"The money is yours to spend as you see fit" Tom said to me, "I don't want you to feel that you have to okay things with me first" (this directly contradicts what he has said to me previously, that I have to clear ALL expenditure with him first).
The meeting finished at 4.30 and I was home by 6.
Wednesday
On the journey to work each day I have mapped out in my mind exactly what I want to do. But when I get to my desk it all seems so complex and chaotic. I am also getting a headache each day, usually in the afternoon.
A visit from Baptist Minister Caleb who is a sort of unofficial adviser to the NGO (or perhaps he does have an official role that I don't know about?). He stood by my desk chatting. Most of his anecdotes consist of massive rows that he has with people and that he always wins triumphantly.
In the afternoon a meeting with Preston who manages the Innovative department. I had been warned that he could be difficult so it was a relief the meeting went well. We talked over various marketing campaigns he wanted to do next year.
Two people came to see me from the all-women advertising agency that is producing the NGO's magazine. We went into one of the glass-walled meeting rooms. They had a selection of digital photographs for me to choose an image for the front cover ("you can't have that one, it hasn't got a woman in it").
Thursday
A day when things seemed more under control.
During the morning a meeting with the Information Services team, giving them research projects on behalf of the other departments. They responded to the new work with enthusiasm. They are very nice people and I like talking to them.
Lunchtime I went to a pub with Felix S and Personnel Manager Yasmin. It was a rowdy pub with a group of lads at the bar singing along to the chorus of Cee Lo Green's Forget You (but instead of "forget" they sang a different f-word). We sat in a bay window and talked about office politics (which we all seem mired in).
http://www.muzu.tv/ceelogreen/forget-you-music-video/733531?country=gb&locale=en
Friday
Another long meeting with Preston in his Innovative department (half of the ground floor in the right-hand side of the building). He has a sort of maverick reputation, but I suspect he just enjoys being provocative. He told me it was a relief to talk to me, and that finally he thought someone in the NGO was on his wavelength.
Then into a database meeting, chaired by Felix S (the master database is under his control). Felix so vague and waffling that I felt myself becoming irritable. At one stage everyone in the meeting was criticising Felix.
The afternoon spent Special Projects manager Carmel, visiting possible venues for her launch - none of them were suitable.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
"We ARE the inner circle" - the past week at work
Monday
First day at my new job. The offices are located in a small town just north of London, on an estate of new buildings located around a shallow lake. Post-modern architecture, with bright red accents and chunky door handles.
When I arrived I was asked, by a very off-hand receptionist, to sit down and wait. A stream of people came through the front door, and I guessed these to be my new work colleagues. Then silence for about half an hour.
Then upstairs for a meeting with the Chief Executive Alec Pressberg. Tall thin individual in a dark grey pin-striped suit, aged mid-sixties. Heavily creased face, the skin leathery, big glasses that gave his eyes an owlish aspect.
We sat at his desk. No welcome to the organisation, but a succession of questions related to my understanding of public relations. A few probing questions about why I had left my last job (I told him openly that I hadn't got on with Yvette).
The rest of the day was taken up with meeting people and getting to know the place. I am working in a small department reporting to Director of Communications Tom Daw. I am part of the management team of this department, which includes Felix S (Research) and Meryl P (Marketing).
Tom Daw is a tall, big-boned, fleshy individual, aged about 50. Overlarge head, smooth pink face, slightly stooping shoulders. His suits look bespoke.
Both Felix and Meryl were civil servants seconded to the NGO when it was set up about three years ago. Felix had been experienced in research before taking up the secondment, but Meryl knew nothing about marketing and had struggled in her new role. A PR disaster a few months ago had led to Meryl's demotion and my recruitment on a six-month contract.
Tom Daw told me my job was to do Meryl's marketing tasks while at the same time training her to take over from me when my six months are up ("Be very firm with her" he said to me, indicating that she was not happy with the arrangement).
I talked for an hour to Felix S (aged about 45, lean, slightly pedantic). Felix told me the main reason I had got the job was my reputation for calmness, hinting at the open rows there had been between Tom and Meryl. As Meryl was a civil servant it had not been possible to sack her.
An hour spent talking to Meryl. She was a very likeable woman of about 35. Her eyes were so bright they seemed to shine. Vivacious and articulate. Divorced with a teenage son. It was obvious that she had no respect for Tom Daw (and I learned that he was also a seconded civil servant and didn't know anything about "communications").
Long, difficult and tiring journey home.
Tuesday
I have a desk at last. In the final days of the previous government the NGO had expanded, recruiting several new staff so that space was now at a premium. The accommodation of the NGO comprises four open-plan offices, each holding about ten people, plus the Chief Executive's suite, and two sets of meeting rooms on the top floor.
Most of the morning spent with affable Gerry, one of my subordinates, who runs the NGO's various websites. He took me out on a field visit to a local government office to talk to them about their requirements. Back at the office we had a visit from Caleb, a Baptist Minister who is one of the NGO's advisers.
I met Leo and Chris, two of Meryl's assistants (and therefore presumably my assistants). Both aged about 18, both sons of other mangers in the NGO (I was beginning to realise what an incestuous organisation it was). Inarticulate, rugby-obsessed, sullen.
In the afternoon a long meeting with Bonar B, the NGO's Director of Finance (Scottish, heavy moustache, wary). He told me he had opposed my appointment since the NGO was having its funding cut. He made no secret of his disapproval of Tom Daw and his spendthrift ways.
After work I had to go to an official function held in a hotel in north London. The dinner was attended by about thirty heads of various institutions. Tom Daw made one of the speeches, which went on far too long.
2am by the time I got home.
Wednesday
A cup off coffee at my desk, then into an unexpected meeting with an advertising agency. It was a novel sensation to be the client giving the orders instead of the account exec taking them. Adam, the account exec, explained to me what the campaign was all about (Meryl had told me nothing, which wasn't very supportive of her).
Then into a meeting with Carmel, manager of one of the other teams in the NGO. Aged about 50, slim-thin, bright red lipstick, loud, flirtatious, divorced (and Leo's mother). She talked about an initiative she wanted to launch in a few month's time.
In the afternoon I discovered (not an exaggeration!) a team of five researchers who report to me. I felt annoyed that neither Meryl nor Gerry had told me about their existence. They sit at a row of desks in a corridor area. They wanted to know what they needed to work on next. I took them into one of the meeting rooms and they explained what they did. I made some decisions for them with only the haziest of notions about what I was deciding.
Later I accompanied Tom Daw to a hotel just off the A1. In the lobby we met a freelance woman who is to do some promotional work at exhibitions. And then I was free to go home.
Thursday
So tired this morning that when the alarm-clock went off I knew I had to get up immediately otherwise I would fall back to sleep. Cold as I sat on the edge of the bed, in the dark, contemplating the day ahead. Outside the house I could hear the arrival of vans bringing gangs to work in the fields.
At the office I was directed to the big meeting room on the top floor. All the NGO mangers were gathered to listen to an auditor. Bonar B was there, and told us how serious the financial position was.
Then into central London with Tom Daw to meet another (another!) advertising agency the NGO uses. The agency was comprised entirely of women. We were given lunch of sandwiches and Perrier, and discussed publication of the NGO's magazine.
Afterwards Tom and I went to a government department for a briefing meeting. Tom passing more and more projects over to me ("I'm so glad to have you with us, so I can pass on some of this paperwork"). After the meeting, although it was only 3pm, Tom told me to go home.
Friday
The end of the working week. As I travelled to work I became apprehensive about all the urgent things that I have to do. I consoled myself with the thought that the job was only for six months.
During the morning a meeting with Ryan M, Director of the Operational Team. Aged about thirty, good-looking, continuously making jokes. The Operational Team is supposedly the most important part of the NGO, although their work sounded very boring.
At lunchtime I accompanied Tom Daw to a sensitive and confidential "strategy meeting" held at a country hotel. We met various senior people connected to the NGO. In a private board room they discussed future funding in the difficult economic situation (I just listened).
At one point someone said: "Does anyone know the names?"
"You're not supposed to know the names unless you are in the inner circle" said a rotund gentleman with glasses.
"We ARE the inner circle" said Alec Pressberg.
In the afternoon I had my second meeting with the Operational Team, meeting Ryan M's cynical subordinates - their cynicism seemingly a direct mirror of Ryan M's enthusiasm.
First day at my new job. The offices are located in a small town just north of London, on an estate of new buildings located around a shallow lake. Post-modern architecture, with bright red accents and chunky door handles.
When I arrived I was asked, by a very off-hand receptionist, to sit down and wait. A stream of people came through the front door, and I guessed these to be my new work colleagues. Then silence for about half an hour.
Then upstairs for a meeting with the Chief Executive Alec Pressberg. Tall thin individual in a dark grey pin-striped suit, aged mid-sixties. Heavily creased face, the skin leathery, big glasses that gave his eyes an owlish aspect.
We sat at his desk. No welcome to the organisation, but a succession of questions related to my understanding of public relations. A few probing questions about why I had left my last job (I told him openly that I hadn't got on with Yvette).
The rest of the day was taken up with meeting people and getting to know the place. I am working in a small department reporting to Director of Communications Tom Daw. I am part of the management team of this department, which includes Felix S (Research) and Meryl P (Marketing).
Tom Daw is a tall, big-boned, fleshy individual, aged about 50. Overlarge head, smooth pink face, slightly stooping shoulders. His suits look bespoke.
Both Felix and Meryl were civil servants seconded to the NGO when it was set up about three years ago. Felix had been experienced in research before taking up the secondment, but Meryl knew nothing about marketing and had struggled in her new role. A PR disaster a few months ago had led to Meryl's demotion and my recruitment on a six-month contract.
Tom Daw told me my job was to do Meryl's marketing tasks while at the same time training her to take over from me when my six months are up ("Be very firm with her" he said to me, indicating that she was not happy with the arrangement).
I talked for an hour to Felix S (aged about 45, lean, slightly pedantic). Felix told me the main reason I had got the job was my reputation for calmness, hinting at the open rows there had been between Tom and Meryl. As Meryl was a civil servant it had not been possible to sack her.
An hour spent talking to Meryl. She was a very likeable woman of about 35. Her eyes were so bright they seemed to shine. Vivacious and articulate. Divorced with a teenage son. It was obvious that she had no respect for Tom Daw (and I learned that he was also a seconded civil servant and didn't know anything about "communications").
Long, difficult and tiring journey home.
Tuesday
I have a desk at last. In the final days of the previous government the NGO had expanded, recruiting several new staff so that space was now at a premium. The accommodation of the NGO comprises four open-plan offices, each holding about ten people, plus the Chief Executive's suite, and two sets of meeting rooms on the top floor.
Most of the morning spent with affable Gerry, one of my subordinates, who runs the NGO's various websites. He took me out on a field visit to a local government office to talk to them about their requirements. Back at the office we had a visit from Caleb, a Baptist Minister who is one of the NGO's advisers.
I met Leo and Chris, two of Meryl's assistants (and therefore presumably my assistants). Both aged about 18, both sons of other mangers in the NGO (I was beginning to realise what an incestuous organisation it was). Inarticulate, rugby-obsessed, sullen.
In the afternoon a long meeting with Bonar B, the NGO's Director of Finance (Scottish, heavy moustache, wary). He told me he had opposed my appointment since the NGO was having its funding cut. He made no secret of his disapproval of Tom Daw and his spendthrift ways.
After work I had to go to an official function held in a hotel in north London. The dinner was attended by about thirty heads of various institutions. Tom Daw made one of the speeches, which went on far too long.
2am by the time I got home.
Wednesday
A cup off coffee at my desk, then into an unexpected meeting with an advertising agency. It was a novel sensation to be the client giving the orders instead of the account exec taking them. Adam, the account exec, explained to me what the campaign was all about (Meryl had told me nothing, which wasn't very supportive of her).
Then into a meeting with Carmel, manager of one of the other teams in the NGO. Aged about 50, slim-thin, bright red lipstick, loud, flirtatious, divorced (and Leo's mother). She talked about an initiative she wanted to launch in a few month's time.
In the afternoon I discovered (not an exaggeration!) a team of five researchers who report to me. I felt annoyed that neither Meryl nor Gerry had told me about their existence. They sit at a row of desks in a corridor area. They wanted to know what they needed to work on next. I took them into one of the meeting rooms and they explained what they did. I made some decisions for them with only the haziest of notions about what I was deciding.
Later I accompanied Tom Daw to a hotel just off the A1. In the lobby we met a freelance woman who is to do some promotional work at exhibitions. And then I was free to go home.
Thursday
So tired this morning that when the alarm-clock went off I knew I had to get up immediately otherwise I would fall back to sleep. Cold as I sat on the edge of the bed, in the dark, contemplating the day ahead. Outside the house I could hear the arrival of vans bringing gangs to work in the fields.
At the office I was directed to the big meeting room on the top floor. All the NGO mangers were gathered to listen to an auditor. Bonar B was there, and told us how serious the financial position was.
Then into central London with Tom Daw to meet another (another!) advertising agency the NGO uses. The agency was comprised entirely of women. We were given lunch of sandwiches and Perrier, and discussed publication of the NGO's magazine.
Afterwards Tom and I went to a government department for a briefing meeting. Tom passing more and more projects over to me ("I'm so glad to have you with us, so I can pass on some of this paperwork"). After the meeting, although it was only 3pm, Tom told me to go home.
Friday
The end of the working week. As I travelled to work I became apprehensive about all the urgent things that I have to do. I consoled myself with the thought that the job was only for six months.
During the morning a meeting with Ryan M, Director of the Operational Team. Aged about thirty, good-looking, continuously making jokes. The Operational Team is supposedly the most important part of the NGO, although their work sounded very boring.
At lunchtime I accompanied Tom Daw to a sensitive and confidential "strategy meeting" held at a country hotel. We met various senior people connected to the NGO. In a private board room they discussed future funding in the difficult economic situation (I just listened).
At one point someone said: "Does anyone know the names?"
"You're not supposed to know the names unless you are in the inner circle" said a rotund gentleman with glasses.
"We ARE the inner circle" said Alec Pressberg.
In the afternoon I had my second meeting with the Operational Team, meeting Ryan M's cynical subordinates - their cynicism seemingly a direct mirror of Ryan M's enthusiasm.
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Start on Monday
I left my job a couple of weeks ago, and I am about to start a new job.
I got this new position following a telephone call from Terry (MD at the job before last). He told me a friend of his was looking for someone to do "communications". Anyway I went to see this friend at her offices (not in London) and she explained that she was adviser to an NGO that needed someone to supplement their existing communications function.
Two interviews followed, both on the same day (an hour apart) and then I was told I had got the job.
So I am to start on Monday on a fixed-term contract (to get round the fact that the NGO has a recruitment freeze). Initally for six months, with the possibility of extending the period to an additional six months (but no longer). The money is quite good.
I am not sure if I will write about my new job, but on balance I think I probably will.
I think blogging about jobs is good all round. Too many employers think they are omnipotent. In any case, I try to disguise identifying features.
And if I am found out and never work in this town again?
For me that would not be the end of the world.
I got this new position following a telephone call from Terry (MD at the job before last). He told me a friend of his was looking for someone to do "communications". Anyway I went to see this friend at her offices (not in London) and she explained that she was adviser to an NGO that needed someone to supplement their existing communications function.
Two interviews followed, both on the same day (an hour apart) and then I was told I had got the job.
So I am to start on Monday on a fixed-term contract (to get round the fact that the NGO has a recruitment freeze). Initally for six months, with the possibility of extending the period to an additional six months (but no longer). The money is quite good.
I am not sure if I will write about my new job, but on balance I think I probably will.
I think blogging about jobs is good all round. Too many employers think they are omnipotent. In any case, I try to disguise identifying features.
And if I am found out and never work in this town again?
For me that would not be the end of the world.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Feeling guilty about the disruption I had caused - the past week at work
Monday
I got up feeling cold, the weather damp and chilly.
I decided last night to leave my job (which I have only been in for a couple of weeks), and resolved to definitely hand in my resignation today. I wondered how it would be received. In some ways I hoped I would be ordered out of the agency so I could go home again.
My usual train was cancelled so I got to the office half an hour late.
Everyone at the agency was busy and my late arrival went unremarked. On my desk I found a brief for a press release which I drafted in about an hour. Account Exec Sara told me about Sunday evening - she had got mildly drunk with friends and then gone to see The Social Network ("I had double-vision so really I saw it twice...").
I felt very apprehensive about resigning. It was unnerving trying to catch Villy (Director and Owner of the agency) on his own. Eventually I had to ask straight out if I could talk to him and we went into the Conference Room.
He was astounded by the news I was leaving, and tried to talk me out of it, saying he would match any other salary I had been offered. Eventually I convinced him I was serious and he asked me to work until the end of the week. As we stood up we shook hands.
"Being indecisive is not one of your problems" he told me (if only he knew the truth!).
Back at my desk my new business cards had arrived - I surreptitiously put them in the bin.
Lunchtime I walked round the local shops and bought a huge piece of bread pudding from a bakers. I took it into the little park to eat (standing up as all of the cast iron benches were wet). When I went back to the office I could tell that everyone knew about my resignation.
In the afternoon I wrote copy for a brochure about an innovative new piece of office machinery.
When 5pm arrived it was a relief to get away from the agency - feeling guilty about all the disruption I have caused.
Tuesday
Most of the day I continued writing the brochure copy. At one point I rang the client to ask questions ("it's the guts of hi-tech office automation" he told me). I discussed the overall design of the brochure with art director Tranter - typically he wanted the brochure to be all pictures and hardly any copy.
In the afternoon account executive Maery asked me to do some copywriting. She pointed out the flat in the parade opposite where she had lived with Villy when they had been "together". Whenever I went into the downstairs office the two women looked at me reproachfully, as if I had betrayed them.
Wednesday
The chilly weather makes changing trains unpleasant. I have become dependent on coffee bought from the little kiosk as I wait fifteen minutes. Drifts of soggy golden leaves everywhere.
Bored most of the day.
I talked to Sara in the kitchen about our what each of us would do after we had left the agency.
The afternoon I spent thinking up headlines with Villy - I praised his efforts even though they were not very good.
Thursday
Another press release waiting on my desk when I arrived. I tried to string it out as long as possible so that I would not have something more boring to do. I went out to Starbucks mid-morning.
Unexpectedly the IT client at my last agency returned my call and asked me to take a brief tomorrow. This pleased Villy a great deal (I suppose he thought some good would come of my time at the agency). We got various publications to e-mail the ads the IT client had placed recently.
In the afternoon some media research.
In the evening was the annual agency staff dinner (they have it in October as things are less hectic than at Christmas). Both Vinny and Maery insisted that I was still part of the agency and should join them, which was kind. I waited around uselessly in the office for an hour before travelling up to central London.
At The Capital hotel in Knightsbridge I met the others in the bar and Villy ordered champagne (£60 a bottle). Into the restaurant which was a long cube. I sat between Maery and Sara (who had somehow made her blonde hair stand up on end).
Villy decided we would all have the "tasting menu" (£70 per head, paid for by the agency). This meant eating the foi gras with truffle sauce, which I would not normally touch since it is so cruelly produced. But what could I do? I could hardly offend them by refusing it when they were being so nice to me. I was treated as if I were the guest of honour. Again I felt guilty about leaving.
Friday
Most of the morning Maery and I spent talking to the IT client from my ex-agency. I had forgotten what a slob he was, sitting in his office surrounded by attractive young women. I knew exactly what sort of ads he wanted to run and was not surprised when he awarded us the campaign.
"You were brilliant" said Maery afterwards, but I have learned to discount her exaggerated praise.
Back at the agency I spent the afternoon writing the copy for the ads.
Then five o'clock arrived. Everyone was extremely nice about saying goodbye. It was a relief to be finally out of the place, feeling guilty about the disruption I had caused.
Saturday
Despite my ban on working at weekends I got up at eight to read up on my new job - skim-reading heaps of reports.
I stopped at 12.30 to watch Dateline London; Michael White attacking Wayne Rooney (what's Wayne ever done to upset him?).
Afterwards the weather forecast with Tomasz Schafernaker, the first time he has appeared (that I have seen) for weeks. He gave a perfect performance, frequently leaning to one side so you could see the whole picture, using his arms to indicate the rapid movement of rainclouds. Slightly accented pronunciation of some words ("Monday" and "next").
I got up feeling cold, the weather damp and chilly.
I decided last night to leave my job (which I have only been in for a couple of weeks), and resolved to definitely hand in my resignation today. I wondered how it would be received. In some ways I hoped I would be ordered out of the agency so I could go home again.
My usual train was cancelled so I got to the office half an hour late.
Everyone at the agency was busy and my late arrival went unremarked. On my desk I found a brief for a press release which I drafted in about an hour. Account Exec Sara told me about Sunday evening - she had got mildly drunk with friends and then gone to see The Social Network ("I had double-vision so really I saw it twice...").
I felt very apprehensive about resigning. It was unnerving trying to catch Villy (Director and Owner of the agency) on his own. Eventually I had to ask straight out if I could talk to him and we went into the Conference Room.
He was astounded by the news I was leaving, and tried to talk me out of it, saying he would match any other salary I had been offered. Eventually I convinced him I was serious and he asked me to work until the end of the week. As we stood up we shook hands.
"Being indecisive is not one of your problems" he told me (if only he knew the truth!).
Back at my desk my new business cards had arrived - I surreptitiously put them in the bin.
Lunchtime I walked round the local shops and bought a huge piece of bread pudding from a bakers. I took it into the little park to eat (standing up as all of the cast iron benches were wet). When I went back to the office I could tell that everyone knew about my resignation.
In the afternoon I wrote copy for a brochure about an innovative new piece of office machinery.
When 5pm arrived it was a relief to get away from the agency - feeling guilty about all the disruption I have caused.
Tuesday
Most of the day I continued writing the brochure copy. At one point I rang the client to ask questions ("it's the guts of hi-tech office automation" he told me). I discussed the overall design of the brochure with art director Tranter - typically he wanted the brochure to be all pictures and hardly any copy.
In the afternoon account executive Maery asked me to do some copywriting. She pointed out the flat in the parade opposite where she had lived with Villy when they had been "together". Whenever I went into the downstairs office the two women looked at me reproachfully, as if I had betrayed them.
Wednesday
The chilly weather makes changing trains unpleasant. I have become dependent on coffee bought from the little kiosk as I wait fifteen minutes. Drifts of soggy golden leaves everywhere.
Bored most of the day.
I talked to Sara in the kitchen about our what each of us would do after we had left the agency.
The afternoon I spent thinking up headlines with Villy - I praised his efforts even though they were not very good.
Thursday
Another press release waiting on my desk when I arrived. I tried to string it out as long as possible so that I would not have something more boring to do. I went out to Starbucks mid-morning.
Unexpectedly the IT client at my last agency returned my call and asked me to take a brief tomorrow. This pleased Villy a great deal (I suppose he thought some good would come of my time at the agency). We got various publications to e-mail the ads the IT client had placed recently.
In the afternoon some media research.
In the evening was the annual agency staff dinner (they have it in October as things are less hectic than at Christmas). Both Vinny and Maery insisted that I was still part of the agency and should join them, which was kind. I waited around uselessly in the office for an hour before travelling up to central London.
At The Capital hotel in Knightsbridge I met the others in the bar and Villy ordered champagne (£60 a bottle). Into the restaurant which was a long cube. I sat between Maery and Sara (who had somehow made her blonde hair stand up on end).
Villy decided we would all have the "tasting menu" (£70 per head, paid for by the agency). This meant eating the foi gras with truffle sauce, which I would not normally touch since it is so cruelly produced. But what could I do? I could hardly offend them by refusing it when they were being so nice to me. I was treated as if I were the guest of honour. Again I felt guilty about leaving.
Friday
Most of the morning Maery and I spent talking to the IT client from my ex-agency. I had forgotten what a slob he was, sitting in his office surrounded by attractive young women. I knew exactly what sort of ads he wanted to run and was not surprised when he awarded us the campaign.
"You were brilliant" said Maery afterwards, but I have learned to discount her exaggerated praise.
Back at the agency I spent the afternoon writing the copy for the ads.
Then five o'clock arrived. Everyone was extremely nice about saying goodbye. It was a relief to be finally out of the place, feeling guilty about the disruption I had caused.
Saturday
Despite my ban on working at weekends I got up at eight to read up on my new job - skim-reading heaps of reports.
I stopped at 12.30 to watch Dateline London; Michael White attacking Wayne Rooney (what's Wayne ever done to upset him?).
Afterwards the weather forecast with Tomasz Schafernaker, the first time he has appeared (that I have seen) for weeks. He gave a perfect performance, frequently leaning to one side so you could see the whole picture, using his arms to indicate the rapid movement of rainclouds. Slightly accented pronunciation of some words ("Monday" and "next").
Saturday, October 09, 2010
The office plays Magic Radio - the past week at work
Monday
Only five hours sleep.
In the agency I finished some copywriting then continued the process of 'phoning my former clients, with mixed results. As I expected, my financial services newsletter client has come over. I feel a little guilty about all this since I really don't expect to be in this job very long.
Director Villy not in today, which made things relaxed.
Trainee account exec Sara, who is on notice, was very bitter about how Villy has treated her ("He just expected me to leave without any notice but I told him I wasn't having that..."). From comments made by the other staff it seems that Villy and Sara had a brief relationship about six months ago and now can't work together. I listened to what she said but don't want to get involved.
Account executive Maery asked me to do some copywriting for her insurance client.
"It's brilliant" she said, when I gave her the finished result.
However the copywriting hadn't been brilliant, and I had struggled to do it. So why did she seem so pleased with it? It seems I can do no wrong where Maery is concerned.
Tuesday
Director Villy was already in the office when I arrived, panicking over a campaign that had just come in ("It's big and bloody"). Compared to Yvette's hysterical rantings this little performance from Villy was relatively mild. Nevertheless I have become wary of people who can't control themselves.
Everyone in the office became involved in getting the campaign booked and the creative rationale worked out.
Later, when I was alone with Sara, we discussed Villy's tantrum. "I think he's schizophrenic" she said. Certainly he seems to over-promise to clients things his agency can't really deliver.
Wednesday
Most of the day spent with Sara discussing her clients (I am taking over her client list when she leaves).
The only coffee in the office is decaffinated, so I broke a personal rule and went out to Starbucks.
Thursday
Copywriting most of the day.
The office plays Magic Radio all day, which is distracting.
Director Villy had an argument with arrogant Art Director Tranter.
Later in the afternoon I didn't have much to do. I thought about the agency and decided I didn't want to stay there. So how do I extricate myself?
Friday
Just as I got to my desk this morning my mobile 'phone rang. Unexpectedly I was being offered a job (from an interview I went to several weeks ago). I went down to the street to continue the call.
Only five hours sleep.
In the agency I finished some copywriting then continued the process of 'phoning my former clients, with mixed results. As I expected, my financial services newsletter client has come over. I feel a little guilty about all this since I really don't expect to be in this job very long.
Director Villy not in today, which made things relaxed.
Trainee account exec Sara, who is on notice, was very bitter about how Villy has treated her ("He just expected me to leave without any notice but I told him I wasn't having that..."). From comments made by the other staff it seems that Villy and Sara had a brief relationship about six months ago and now can't work together. I listened to what she said but don't want to get involved.
Account executive Maery asked me to do some copywriting for her insurance client.
"It's brilliant" she said, when I gave her the finished result.
However the copywriting hadn't been brilliant, and I had struggled to do it. So why did she seem so pleased with it? It seems I can do no wrong where Maery is concerned.
Tuesday
Director Villy was already in the office when I arrived, panicking over a campaign that had just come in ("It's big and bloody"). Compared to Yvette's hysterical rantings this little performance from Villy was relatively mild. Nevertheless I have become wary of people who can't control themselves.
Everyone in the office became involved in getting the campaign booked and the creative rationale worked out.
Later, when I was alone with Sara, we discussed Villy's tantrum. "I think he's schizophrenic" she said. Certainly he seems to over-promise to clients things his agency can't really deliver.
Wednesday
Most of the day spent with Sara discussing her clients (I am taking over her client list when she leaves).
The only coffee in the office is decaffinated, so I broke a personal rule and went out to Starbucks.
Thursday
Copywriting most of the day.
The office plays Magic Radio all day, which is distracting.
Director Villy had an argument with arrogant Art Director Tranter.
Later in the afternoon I didn't have much to do. I thought about the agency and decided I didn't want to stay there. So how do I extricate myself?
Friday
Just as I got to my desk this morning my mobile 'phone rang. Unexpectedly I was being offered a job (from an interview I went to several weeks ago). I went down to the street to continue the call.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
They preferred the fiction to reality - the past week at work
Monday
Last week I accepted the job offer from the agency in a small town just north of London (I will call it Walkers, which might give you a clue to the real name). As soon as I posted the acceptance I regretted doing so. I start tomorrow, so had an easy day today effectively doing nothing.
Tuesday
Up early this morning. The train journey did not take any more time than my last commute, although I have to change twice. A cup of coffee as I waited for the "loop" train, the air cool as I stood on the platform.
My first day at Walker Communications. I was surprised at how familiar the offices seemed - I suppose agencies do not vary by much. After an hour I felt completely at home.
This sense of equanimity did not last. A meeting with Directer Villy "to set some parameters" revealed that Account Exec Sara (pleasant woman aged about twenty-one, with blonde straight hair and an Essex accent) was going to be "eased out" to make room for me. I was appalled that someone was going to be sacked so that I could take her place. Villy also told me confidentially that he was going to get rid of morose Art Director Tranter. We talked about various clients I am to handle, and Villy asked me to write to my former clients to see if they would follow me to Walkers (some of them I would hate to see again!). Villy also revealed that he had worked with Yvette in the past ("she ran the business into the ground").
Later Sara talked through some of the clients I am to take over. She is oblivious of the fact that Villy is going to get rid of her (I wondered whether I should warn her). She talked about various people in the agency ("Tranter has a very dry sense of humour whereas Villy thinks everything is hilarious - when it suits him").
Later I worked on a new business presentation.
Dreadful train journey home.
Wednesday
In a funny sort of way I enjoy the new journey to work and the melancholy autumnal feel of waiting on empty platforms.
During the morning I talked to Account Executive Maery about some of her clients that are to be transferred to me.
She asked me: "Is Yvette as bad as people say she is?"
"Worse than you can imagine" I told her.
Maery and I drove about ten miles to give a presentation to a potential new client (quite a big one). The meeting went very well and heavy hints were given that we had got the campaign. Back at the agency Villy was impressed with our efforts - he had been after the client for some time.
Thursday
Some PR work - they had been saving it up for me since no-one at Walkers can do PR. The brief was so bad I had to make up a lot of the text, expecting the client to replace the fiction with real case studies. When the copy came back it had been approved without a word being changed (they preferred the fiction to reality).
Friday
More PR work. Life at Walkers has settled into a routine. But in the post when I got home were three more invitations to interviews, and I keep wondering whether I should pursue them.
Last week I accepted the job offer from the agency in a small town just north of London (I will call it Walkers, which might give you a clue to the real name). As soon as I posted the acceptance I regretted doing so. I start tomorrow, so had an easy day today effectively doing nothing.
Tuesday
Up early this morning. The train journey did not take any more time than my last commute, although I have to change twice. A cup of coffee as I waited for the "loop" train, the air cool as I stood on the platform.
My first day at Walker Communications. I was surprised at how familiar the offices seemed - I suppose agencies do not vary by much. After an hour I felt completely at home.
This sense of equanimity did not last. A meeting with Directer Villy "to set some parameters" revealed that Account Exec Sara (pleasant woman aged about twenty-one, with blonde straight hair and an Essex accent) was going to be "eased out" to make room for me. I was appalled that someone was going to be sacked so that I could take her place. Villy also told me confidentially that he was going to get rid of morose Art Director Tranter. We talked about various clients I am to handle, and Villy asked me to write to my former clients to see if they would follow me to Walkers (some of them I would hate to see again!). Villy also revealed that he had worked with Yvette in the past ("she ran the business into the ground").
Later Sara talked through some of the clients I am to take over. She is oblivious of the fact that Villy is going to get rid of her (I wondered whether I should warn her). She talked about various people in the agency ("Tranter has a very dry sense of humour whereas Villy thinks everything is hilarious - when it suits him").
Later I worked on a new business presentation.
Dreadful train journey home.
Wednesday
In a funny sort of way I enjoy the new journey to work and the melancholy autumnal feel of waiting on empty platforms.
During the morning I talked to Account Executive Maery about some of her clients that are to be transferred to me.
She asked me: "Is Yvette as bad as people say she is?"
"Worse than you can imagine" I told her.
Maery and I drove about ten miles to give a presentation to a potential new client (quite a big one). The meeting went very well and heavy hints were given that we had got the campaign. Back at the agency Villy was impressed with our efforts - he had been after the client for some time.
Thursday
Some PR work - they had been saving it up for me since no-one at Walkers can do PR. The brief was so bad I had to make up a lot of the text, expecting the client to replace the fiction with real case studies. When the copy came back it had been approved without a word being changed (they preferred the fiction to reality).
Friday
More PR work. Life at Walkers has settled into a routine. But in the post when I got home were three more invitations to interviews, and I keep wondering whether I should pursue them.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I drove home and felt very unsettled - the past week not at work
Monday
Dressing in a suit I drove off for yet another interview. The "agency" was no more than a desk in the general office of a printing company. They have a handful of clients who have asked them to do their ad campaigns as well as print work.
"We are looking for someone who will run it as their own business, become a Director..."
I left feeling that I would have to be desperate before I took such a position.
Tuesday
I was woken this morning at 8am by a car in the lane announcing (via loudspeaker) that the water would be turned off for five hours. Blearily I went downstairs and filled kettles, bowls and buckets with water. I thought about getting up properly, but I felt so tired that I lay down on top of my bed wearing pyjamas and dressing gown and when I next woke it was 12.30.
Later in the afternoon a second interview at the agency in a small town to the north of London (I drove there and got confused at South Mimms). I was not looking forward to the interview, mainly because I feared I was going to be offered the job and would then have to make a decision. This time the meeting was with two women - Barbara and Maery.
When the interview finished they left the room and after about ten minutes Director Villy came into the room and offered me the job.
"It was a unanimous decision" he said.
My immediate thought was to avoid making a firm commitment. We are supposedly in a tough economic situation where jobs are scarce, so common sense tells me to take the offer. But my job search is going so well that I do not want to just take the first thing that comes along.
Especially as there is something about the atmosphere in the agency that warns me to proceed with caution.
I asked if I could have a week to think about the offer.
I drove home and felt very unsettled the rest of the day. At ten o'clock in the evening I went for a walk for half an hour. There was a bright half-moon which made the landscape staggeringly beautiful.
Wednesday
I telephoned a recruitment professional and asked what I should do about the job offer.
She told me: "The market is telling people take the job that's offered".
Late afternoon and a journey to the west of London for a second interview with the old buffer I had met in Mayfair last week. The offices were smart, but the client list was lacklustre and the whole enterprise seemed to lack vitality. The old bloke admitted that an Account Director had recently walked off with some of his best clients.
As I drove home I realised that the commute would be a nightmare unless I moved to London during the week (there are several people with spare rooms I could stay with).
Thursday
In the morning an interview at an agency in Clerkenwell. I could tell immediately that I was not being taken seriously ("we like to see what's out there"). I was tempted to call them time-wasters, but restrained myself.
When I got home the post had arrived, with the formal offer letter from Villy.
Friday
Second interview at the agency in a north London suburb. I was tense about this meeting, mainly because the company seems such a nice place to work (nice clients, nice offices, nice people). I had to keep telling myself that it wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't get the job.
Quite a long wait in Reception when I arrived. Everyone was smiling and seemed to know who I was. One of the account handlers paused to talk to me.
The interview was with the agency owner and the PR Director. The signals they gave were all positive, so that my hopes began to rise. The interview lasted an hour and a half.
Dressing in a suit I drove off for yet another interview. The "agency" was no more than a desk in the general office of a printing company. They have a handful of clients who have asked them to do their ad campaigns as well as print work.
"We are looking for someone who will run it as their own business, become a Director..."
I left feeling that I would have to be desperate before I took such a position.
Tuesday
I was woken this morning at 8am by a car in the lane announcing (via loudspeaker) that the water would be turned off for five hours. Blearily I went downstairs and filled kettles, bowls and buckets with water. I thought about getting up properly, but I felt so tired that I lay down on top of my bed wearing pyjamas and dressing gown and when I next woke it was 12.30.
Later in the afternoon a second interview at the agency in a small town to the north of London (I drove there and got confused at South Mimms). I was not looking forward to the interview, mainly because I feared I was going to be offered the job and would then have to make a decision. This time the meeting was with two women - Barbara and Maery.
When the interview finished they left the room and after about ten minutes Director Villy came into the room and offered me the job.
"It was a unanimous decision" he said.
My immediate thought was to avoid making a firm commitment. We are supposedly in a tough economic situation where jobs are scarce, so common sense tells me to take the offer. But my job search is going so well that I do not want to just take the first thing that comes along.
Especially as there is something about the atmosphere in the agency that warns me to proceed with caution.
I asked if I could have a week to think about the offer.
I drove home and felt very unsettled the rest of the day. At ten o'clock in the evening I went for a walk for half an hour. There was a bright half-moon which made the landscape staggeringly beautiful.
Wednesday
I telephoned a recruitment professional and asked what I should do about the job offer.
She told me: "The market is telling people take the job that's offered".
Late afternoon and a journey to the west of London for a second interview with the old buffer I had met in Mayfair last week. The offices were smart, but the client list was lacklustre and the whole enterprise seemed to lack vitality. The old bloke admitted that an Account Director had recently walked off with some of his best clients.
As I drove home I realised that the commute would be a nightmare unless I moved to London during the week (there are several people with spare rooms I could stay with).
Thursday
In the morning an interview at an agency in Clerkenwell. I could tell immediately that I was not being taken seriously ("we like to see what's out there"). I was tempted to call them time-wasters, but restrained myself.
When I got home the post had arrived, with the formal offer letter from Villy.
Friday
Second interview at the agency in a north London suburb. I was tense about this meeting, mainly because the company seems such a nice place to work (nice clients, nice offices, nice people). I had to keep telling myself that it wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't get the job.
Quite a long wait in Reception when I arrived. Everyone was smiling and seemed to know who I was. One of the account handlers paused to talk to me.
The interview was with the agency owner and the PR Director. The signals they gave were all positive, so that my hopes began to rise. The interview lasted an hour and a half.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
The interview went well - the past week not at work
Monday
Two rejection letters in the post this morning (I had sent my CV out to various potential employers last week).
In the afternoon I drove about twenty miles to a small town where I had been asked to attend an interview. The advertising agency was located in a three-story Victorian villa near the station. I was asked to wait in a grey-carpeted downstairs room which was completely empty apart from a single chair and lots of packaged products (which I guessed were products waiting to be photographed).
The interview went well. The agency looked attractive. The people seemed friendly.
I drove home and made myself some tea. Just as I sat down my mobile 'phone rang. It was a communications company in a city about forty miles away.
They wanted me to attend an interview. "I wanted to talk to you before anyone else does" the person on the 'phone said. We arranged to meet on Friday.
Tuesday
In the post two rejection letters, three letters suggesting meetings, and a letter from EGJ.
Interestingly, none of the on-line job applications I have made have got anywhere, but the postal CVs I have sent out are getting a good response (perhaps because no-one sends out paper CVs anymore, so there is no competition?).
Wednesday
North London, where it spills over into the Home Counties. In a straggling High Street I attended an interview at a marketing agency. The interview lasted nearly two hours ("We seem to think along the same lines").
I left feeling it was a place I very much wanted to work.
Thursday
Small town just north of London (well into the Green Belt). Being early I walked around the streets looking at the shops. I felt a bit hot in my suit.
Then into an advertising agency for an interview with the Director ("Call me Villy"). I was not terribly impressed with the company which has a hotch-potch of clients. The interview lasted an hour and a half.
Then into central London to a hotel bar in Mayfair. Very expensive drinks. I met the owner of a small advertising agency and he informally interviewed me as we sat on sofas. The meeting went well, although I suspect he might be a bit of a crook. We talked for an hour and twenty minutes. At the end he said a second interview would be useful - a more formal one at his offices.
At Kings Cross I ran into someone I used to know about ten years ago. We talked about old times. He remembered my name easily, but I couldn't remember his.
Friday
To the new town city for an interview at a communications agency. The place was difficult to find, and when I got there I couldn't find a parking place.
Impressed by the stylish interiors - on the wall of the MD's office was an original Eduardo Paolozzi. They had some very good names on their client list. The opening they had was for a copywriter. I was left in a room for half an hour and asked to write five hundred words promoting the city (which makes me suspect the city council is one of their clients). I was asked back for a second interview. "Let us know if anyone makes you an offer in the meantime" the MD said as I left.
Two rejection letters in the post this morning (I had sent my CV out to various potential employers last week).
In the afternoon I drove about twenty miles to a small town where I had been asked to attend an interview. The advertising agency was located in a three-story Victorian villa near the station. I was asked to wait in a grey-carpeted downstairs room which was completely empty apart from a single chair and lots of packaged products (which I guessed were products waiting to be photographed).
The interview went well. The agency looked attractive. The people seemed friendly.
I drove home and made myself some tea. Just as I sat down my mobile 'phone rang. It was a communications company in a city about forty miles away.
They wanted me to attend an interview. "I wanted to talk to you before anyone else does" the person on the 'phone said. We arranged to meet on Friday.
Tuesday
In the post two rejection letters, three letters suggesting meetings, and a letter from EGJ.
Interestingly, none of the on-line job applications I have made have got anywhere, but the postal CVs I have sent out are getting a good response (perhaps because no-one sends out paper CVs anymore, so there is no competition?).
Wednesday
North London, where it spills over into the Home Counties. In a straggling High Street I attended an interview at a marketing agency. The interview lasted nearly two hours ("We seem to think along the same lines").
I left feeling it was a place I very much wanted to work.
Thursday
Small town just north of London (well into the Green Belt). Being early I walked around the streets looking at the shops. I felt a bit hot in my suit.
Then into an advertising agency for an interview with the Director ("Call me Villy"). I was not terribly impressed with the company which has a hotch-potch of clients. The interview lasted an hour and a half.
Then into central London to a hotel bar in Mayfair. Very expensive drinks. I met the owner of a small advertising agency and he informally interviewed me as we sat on sofas. The meeting went well, although I suspect he might be a bit of a crook. We talked for an hour and twenty minutes. At the end he said a second interview would be useful - a more formal one at his offices.
At Kings Cross I ran into someone I used to know about ten years ago. We talked about old times. He remembered my name easily, but I couldn't remember his.
Friday
To the new town city for an interview at a communications agency. The place was difficult to find, and when I got there I couldn't find a parking place.
Impressed by the stylish interiors - on the wall of the MD's office was an original Eduardo Paolozzi. They had some very good names on their client list. The opening they had was for a copywriter. I was left in a room for half an hour and asked to write five hundred words promoting the city (which makes me suspect the city council is one of their clients). I was asked back for a second interview. "Let us know if anyone makes you an offer in the meantime" the MD said as I left.
Saturday, September 04, 2010
No-one knows where I am - the past week not at work
Monday
Bank holiday. For lunch cold chicken, boiled potatos, fresh peas. I have a sort of flu at the moment, so all I want to do is rest.
Tuesday
I sent my CV to sixteen ad agencies where I know someone (although in a couple of cases they were only really acquaintances).
Wednesday
Went to Watford to see Kate (an old work colleague). She may have some freelance projects I can work on. Although the agency (which I used to work for) was in new offices it seemed exactly the same with Ian, Alan, bad-tempered Angela etc.
Thursday
Being unemployed, there is a luxury to waking in the morning, realising there is no requirement to get up, sleeping again, waking again, sleeping.
It's a relief not to have to make an appearance anywhere.
It's a relief that no-one knows where I am.
Also it's surprising how much I have to do now I don't have to go to work.
Friday
A call from a provincial marketing agency asking me to an interview on Monday afternoon.
Bank holiday. For lunch cold chicken, boiled potatos, fresh peas. I have a sort of flu at the moment, so all I want to do is rest.
Tuesday
I sent my CV to sixteen ad agencies where I know someone (although in a couple of cases they were only really acquaintances).
Wednesday
Went to Watford to see Kate (an old work colleague). She may have some freelance projects I can work on. Although the agency (which I used to work for) was in new offices it seemed exactly the same with Ian, Alan, bad-tempered Angela etc.
Thursday
Being unemployed, there is a luxury to waking in the morning, realising there is no requirement to get up, sleeping again, waking again, sleeping.
It's a relief not to have to make an appearance anywhere.
It's a relief that no-one knows where I am.
Also it's surprising how much I have to do now I don't have to go to work.
Friday
A call from a provincial marketing agency asking me to an interview on Monday afternoon.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
She insisted I came with her - the past week not at work
Monday
Nothing appropriate in the Media Vacancies pages of the Guardian.
Because I still have my season ticket it made sense to go up to London and see if any of the specialist recruitment agencies were offering freelance work (preferably stuff I can do working at home).
I met Jonathan (copywriter at my last place of work) for a lunchtime drink. "You spoiled her weekend" he said, describing the effect my resignation had on Yvette (my former boss). He talked about the advertising agency, but I was bored by this office gossip - already it means nothing to me.
Later I caught a train from Waterloo to Windsor and met EGJ in on the Eton Bridge. We walked along the river as far as Athens. Lots of rowers on the river, in twos and threes, some moving slowly, some moving fast.
Tuesday
Today I researched marketing companies I might like to work for, and began to put together some examples of my work. Because I left so abruptly there were a number of significant gaps. I rang Rachel to see if she would go into the agency and get them (she works in the offices upstairs) but she insisted I came with her.
Therefore at eleven o'clock in the evening I drove up to London, the journey taking nearly three hours. I parked my car in Berkeley Square where there are always spaces, and met Rachel in Covent Garden, almost everywhere closed. We walked to the agency and she unlocked the door and turned the alarm off (we were in some doubt about whether this would be recorded electronically).
Walking up the stairs to the agency floor, I fumbled in the palm plants on the landing until I found the spare key. I felt very uneasy as I unlocked the door to the offices and stepped inside, but once I was in the familiar environment I moved quickly, knowing where everything was that I wanted. I had to work in the dark, but there was plenty of light from the street lights outside.
Before leaving I paused briefly by my old desk. It seemed to be occupied by someone new (probably new recruit Lisa). I had no sentimental feeling for the place, and when I rejoined Rachel on the stairs I was glad to get away.
Wednesday
Didn't do much today except rest and sleep.
Thursday
I didn't get up until 11am. In the post my final payment from the agency. It was more than I expected.
A committee meeting in the evening for the educational charity I do voluntary work for. The meeting was held in the courtyard. I drank diluted whisky and soda and watched the interactions between various people - there were some strains but no actual explosions.
I told Simon S (finance secretary) that I had left my job. He told me matily: "We'll soon have you on your feet again". I told him I wasn't really off my feet.
Friday
Again I got up at 11am. It would be so easy to fall into a lazy routine. At the local library I met an elderly lady who told me she was a creative writer "...but I had a great fall and was in hospital a long time, during which my parquet-floored library burned including all my writings."
Nothing appropriate in the Media Vacancies pages of the Guardian.
Because I still have my season ticket it made sense to go up to London and see if any of the specialist recruitment agencies were offering freelance work (preferably stuff I can do working at home).
I met Jonathan (copywriter at my last place of work) for a lunchtime drink. "You spoiled her weekend" he said, describing the effect my resignation had on Yvette (my former boss). He talked about the advertising agency, but I was bored by this office gossip - already it means nothing to me.
Later I caught a train from Waterloo to Windsor and met EGJ in on the Eton Bridge. We walked along the river as far as Athens. Lots of rowers on the river, in twos and threes, some moving slowly, some moving fast.
Tuesday
Today I researched marketing companies I might like to work for, and began to put together some examples of my work. Because I left so abruptly there were a number of significant gaps. I rang Rachel to see if she would go into the agency and get them (she works in the offices upstairs) but she insisted I came with her.
Therefore at eleven o'clock in the evening I drove up to London, the journey taking nearly three hours. I parked my car in Berkeley Square where there are always spaces, and met Rachel in Covent Garden, almost everywhere closed. We walked to the agency and she unlocked the door and turned the alarm off (we were in some doubt about whether this would be recorded electronically).
Walking up the stairs to the agency floor, I fumbled in the palm plants on the landing until I found the spare key. I felt very uneasy as I unlocked the door to the offices and stepped inside, but once I was in the familiar environment I moved quickly, knowing where everything was that I wanted. I had to work in the dark, but there was plenty of light from the street lights outside.
Before leaving I paused briefly by my old desk. It seemed to be occupied by someone new (probably new recruit Lisa). I had no sentimental feeling for the place, and when I rejoined Rachel on the stairs I was glad to get away.
Wednesday
Didn't do much today except rest and sleep.
Thursday
I didn't get up until 11am. In the post my final payment from the agency. It was more than I expected.
A committee meeting in the evening for the educational charity I do voluntary work for. The meeting was held in the courtyard. I drank diluted whisky and soda and watched the interactions between various people - there were some strains but no actual explosions.
I told Simon S (finance secretary) that I had left my job. He told me matily: "We'll soon have you on your feet again". I told him I wasn't really off my feet.
Friday
Again I got up at 11am. It would be so easy to fall into a lazy routine. At the local library I met an elderly lady who told me she was a creative writer "...but I had a great fall and was in hospital a long time, during which my parquet-floored library burned including all my writings."
Saturday, August 21, 2010
I then left the building - the past week at work
Monday
As I was going through my post this morning Yvette (agency head) came up to my desk and accused me of reading a magazine. "I can't possibly be reading it, it's in German" I told her. The accusation, and the aggressive way it was delivered, made me feel very angry, and I felt like resigning immediately.
But I didn't.
Mid-morning Julie (account executive) and I were called into Yvette's office for a share-out of Andrea's clients (Andrea was formerly Account Director who resigned a couple of weeks back and is now working her notice in the PR division upstairs). I got two nice clients, new girl Lisa is to get a lot of the rubbish. Julie got the rest, and I suppose is now equal in rank to myself.
We had a talk about new business, and I was critical of the way we do things. Yvette told me I should move if I didn't like the way the agency was being run. I told her that I might do that.
Andrea's car has also been allocated to me, although I have already said I don't want it. I said I would keep it in the mews car park at the back and it can act as a pool car. Later in the day Neil (graphic designer) and I used the car to take some surplus office furniture to Neil's flat (he was buying it from the agency). Neither of us could get the back seats to go down. Eventually I drove it to a garage near Baker Street and a mechanic simply pressed a lever and the seats went down, making me look very foolish. I offered to pay him for his trouble, but he said it was free of charge.
Later in the afternoon I walked round to Covent Garden to give Lisa her new contract of employment. She seemed quite happy in her current environment. Should I have attempted to warn her?
Tuesday
Andrea's last day today. We had organised a collection for a present, Yvette refusing to contribute to it. When we gathered to go upstairs to see Andrea's send-off Yvette sprang out of her office and said we couldn't leave the floor unattended (although she was there). Later Andrea was allowed to come down to say goodbye. She hugged each of us (not Yvette obviously). I was sorry to see her go.
Wednesday
Lunchtime I went up to the Boardroom to watch the One O'Clock News. I was joined by Terry (MD and our ultimate boss) and a political friend of his. "We've lost touch with the man in the street" said Terry. They then tried to define who the "man in the street" was. Eventually they were forced to admit to themselves that they did not know any men in the street. "I suppose that proves we've lost touch with them" said Terry's friend.
In the evening we all stayed on for another of the Jess Lewis training sessions (Jess Lewis is a former Personnel Director and an old friend of Yvette's). New account exec Lisa attended the training and seemed very keen. The rest of us appeared bored. Jonathan (copywriter) continually insulted by Yvette. We had a sort of buffet meal half-way through, with various cheeses and pates. Jonathan and I sat by the wine bottles.
Thursday
I had been expecting a quiet day at the agency today, but this was not to be.
As soon as I arrived (a few minutes late) I heard Yvette complaining about the way everyone was dressed, even attacking her favourite Julie. Unknown to the rest of us she had invited a potential client to visit the agency, and was now saying that we did not look presentable. As it happened, this was one of the very few days when I was not wearing a jacket (I had a raincoat with me because of the threat of rain, and a raincoat on top of a suit jacket is too much in this weather).
We were all summoned into Yvette's office to discuss our sartorial shortcomings. She started with me, and I deflected her anger by saying I would go out and buy a jacket before the client arrived. She then turned her attention to Jonathan and Neil and raged (not too strong a word) about how scruffy they looked and how untidy the Studio was. Jonathan attempted to defend himself by saying that creatives were expected to be casual. Yvette became almost insane with fury, telling him repeatedly seven or eight times to "shut up". It was as if she was having some kind of fit.
It was at this point that I decided to go. I walked out of Yvette's office and went upstairs to see Terry. He saw me almost immediately and accepted my resignation (he asked me to think about it, but I said no).
I then left the building and went home.
Friday
I wanted to sleep late, but I was woken at 9 by a phone call from Jonathan asking how I was. He told me he was going to complain to Terry later today about Yvette. He said that in the end the potential client had not turned up, so the storm had been for nothing.
Mid-morning came a call from Katharine (Terry's PA) asking how I was. She described the aftermath of my resignation ("Yvette came up to see Terry shaking like a jelly"). I asked her to clear my desk for me.
Twenty minutes later came a call from Rachel (PR exec in the upstairs offices) asking me to dinner in her flat in Maida Vale this evening.
During the day I calculated my finances, and I am better off than I realised, so no immediate need to panic about getting a new job.
Late afternoon I caught a train up to London.
Maida Vale and the familiar flat. Probably the last time I shall see it as Rachel moves out in two weeks. The meal was savoury crepes followed by profiteroles, with white wine to drink.
We talked long into the night about everything.
Above: I thought I would put a picture of Yvette up, at least for a short while. So here she is. This is Jonathan's photo, not mine. I took a photo of his laser-printed photo, so not good quality. She's not a bad person. But she has done many bad things.
As I was going through my post this morning Yvette (agency head) came up to my desk and accused me of reading a magazine. "I can't possibly be reading it, it's in German" I told her. The accusation, and the aggressive way it was delivered, made me feel very angry, and I felt like resigning immediately.
But I didn't.
Mid-morning Julie (account executive) and I were called into Yvette's office for a share-out of Andrea's clients (Andrea was formerly Account Director who resigned a couple of weeks back and is now working her notice in the PR division upstairs). I got two nice clients, new girl Lisa is to get a lot of the rubbish. Julie got the rest, and I suppose is now equal in rank to myself.
We had a talk about new business, and I was critical of the way we do things. Yvette told me I should move if I didn't like the way the agency was being run. I told her that I might do that.
Andrea's car has also been allocated to me, although I have already said I don't want it. I said I would keep it in the mews car park at the back and it can act as a pool car. Later in the day Neil (graphic designer) and I used the car to take some surplus office furniture to Neil's flat (he was buying it from the agency). Neither of us could get the back seats to go down. Eventually I drove it to a garage near Baker Street and a mechanic simply pressed a lever and the seats went down, making me look very foolish. I offered to pay him for his trouble, but he said it was free of charge.
Later in the afternoon I walked round to Covent Garden to give Lisa her new contract of employment. She seemed quite happy in her current environment. Should I have attempted to warn her?
Tuesday
Andrea's last day today. We had organised a collection for a present, Yvette refusing to contribute to it. When we gathered to go upstairs to see Andrea's send-off Yvette sprang out of her office and said we couldn't leave the floor unattended (although she was there). Later Andrea was allowed to come down to say goodbye. She hugged each of us (not Yvette obviously). I was sorry to see her go.
Wednesday
Lunchtime I went up to the Boardroom to watch the One O'Clock News. I was joined by Terry (MD and our ultimate boss) and a political friend of his. "We've lost touch with the man in the street" said Terry. They then tried to define who the "man in the street" was. Eventually they were forced to admit to themselves that they did not know any men in the street. "I suppose that proves we've lost touch with them" said Terry's friend.
In the evening we all stayed on for another of the Jess Lewis training sessions (Jess Lewis is a former Personnel Director and an old friend of Yvette's). New account exec Lisa attended the training and seemed very keen. The rest of us appeared bored. Jonathan (copywriter) continually insulted by Yvette. We had a sort of buffet meal half-way through, with various cheeses and pates. Jonathan and I sat by the wine bottles.
Thursday
I had been expecting a quiet day at the agency today, but this was not to be.
As soon as I arrived (a few minutes late) I heard Yvette complaining about the way everyone was dressed, even attacking her favourite Julie. Unknown to the rest of us she had invited a potential client to visit the agency, and was now saying that we did not look presentable. As it happened, this was one of the very few days when I was not wearing a jacket (I had a raincoat with me because of the threat of rain, and a raincoat on top of a suit jacket is too much in this weather).
We were all summoned into Yvette's office to discuss our sartorial shortcomings. She started with me, and I deflected her anger by saying I would go out and buy a jacket before the client arrived. She then turned her attention to Jonathan and Neil and raged (not too strong a word) about how scruffy they looked and how untidy the Studio was. Jonathan attempted to defend himself by saying that creatives were expected to be casual. Yvette became almost insane with fury, telling him repeatedly seven or eight times to "shut up". It was as if she was having some kind of fit.
It was at this point that I decided to go. I walked out of Yvette's office and went upstairs to see Terry. He saw me almost immediately and accepted my resignation (he asked me to think about it, but I said no).
I then left the building and went home.
Friday
I wanted to sleep late, but I was woken at 9 by a phone call from Jonathan asking how I was. He told me he was going to complain to Terry later today about Yvette. He said that in the end the potential client had not turned up, so the storm had been for nothing.
Mid-morning came a call from Katharine (Terry's PA) asking how I was. She described the aftermath of my resignation ("Yvette came up to see Terry shaking like a jelly"). I asked her to clear my desk for me.
Twenty minutes later came a call from Rachel (PR exec in the upstairs offices) asking me to dinner in her flat in Maida Vale this evening.
During the day I calculated my finances, and I am better off than I realised, so no immediate need to panic about getting a new job.
Late afternoon I caught a train up to London.
Maida Vale and the familiar flat. Probably the last time I shall see it as Rachel moves out in two weeks. The meal was savoury crepes followed by profiteroles, with white wine to drink.
We talked long into the night about everything.
Above: I thought I would put a picture of Yvette up, at least for a short while. So here she is. This is Jonathan's photo, not mine. I took a photo of his laser-printed photo, so not good quality. She's not a bad person. But she has done many bad things.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The past week at work
Monday
So late was I in getting ready for work that I had to put my tie on while waiting for the train, a cup of coffee balanced on the bench beside me.
I felt tired all day, so that I had to find easy things to do.
I nearly fell asleep in the weekly planning meeting.
Tuesday
Again very tired. Now that I have made the decision to leave the agency I cannot seem to motivate myself to go there. Today I arrived at 10, and made no attempt to explain why I was late.
Most of the afternoon I spent talking to Eleanor (trainee account executive, had been due to leave but now persuaded to stay on). Neither of us had much to do. She described her divorce (some years ago, but the memory obviously still rankles).
Wednesday
In the morning Yvette (agency head) and Julie (account executive) went off to see our car hire client. I was left alone in the agency as everybody else was either out or off. I looked at medical sites on the internet to see why I might be so tired - the time rushed by while I was doing this.
In the afternoon Julie's brother Martin came in to the office and sat in the account execs room talking to her. England football shirt, jeans, clean white trainers. Until a couple of weeks ago he was going out with Andrea, who is now working in the PR division upstairs - no-one knows why they broke up.
He talked about his army cross-country running ("eight mile runs, some five-minute miles..."). He talked about his planned holiday in Grand Canaria. He mentioned he was born in Cyprus (his father had also been in the army).
He stayed for about two hours, handed round a packet of soft mints, then left.
When he had gone Eleanor asked Julie: "Is he stalking Andrea?"
This led to an outburst of invective from Julie about how badly Andrea had treated him and how she didn't want them to get back together. There is certainly a disparity between them - Andrea is nine years older than Martin, has probably double his salary, they have almost no interests in common. "She was just using him" said Julie, "and now she's bored she won't even talk to him."
Thursday
Extremely quiet in the agency today. I think everyone was bored in various different ways. Yvette very blase about the collapse in business.
The only person to be occupied was Eleanor. She worked on an ad for our IT client, and it was obviously too much for her. Rather than ask for help she struggled with it, becoming red-faced and starting to swear.
I openly read newspapers. Jonathan (copywriter) openly read a book of short stories. Julie played games on her computer.
Lunchtime I went to look at the books in Waterstones, which always cheers me up.
Returning to the agency I was in time to see Yvette make an exhibition of herself. She rang Julie complaining that she was unable to park her car in the tiny space in the mews at the back of the building (it is closed by an automatic gate and is only for people in our building). She wanted Julie to go upstairs and find out who owned two cars and tell them to move them. She was shouting so loudly that everyone could here what she was saying. While Julie went upstairs the rest of us crammed ourselves into the toilet lobby where from the window you can look down into the mews. We saw Yvette in her car, the top down, vainly trying to manouvre her sportscar into a space that was over-parked by the cars either side. We saw Julie go down to her and explain she couldn't find out who owned the cars.
Eventually Yvette left her car in the middle of the mews, blocking in almost everyone. We heard her coming up the stairs telling Julie what she was going to do to the two car owners when she met them. Her arrival in the quiet agency was like an explosion.
Later I briefed Jonathan on some copywriting. He is an odd character. He told me very seriously "I really envy people who have incurable diseases as they have such a desire for life whereas I couldn't care less."
Friday
Fridays always seem to bring a sense of relief. I went straight to see my Financial Services client before going into the office. The River Thames looked lovely as I crossed Hungerford Bridge.
What a boring day. Mid-morning I went out to a florist to arrange for flowers to be sent to one of our more important clients (it's her birthday). The flower shop seemed a quaint comfortable world (it is a business that seems to be recession-proof: "People always want flowers" the owner told me).
Later I wrote some copy, and did some research for our toy client. Time seemed to be passing excrutiatingly slowly. I stopped drinking coffee for the rest of the day as it was making me feel ill.
The final stage of the afternoon was completely dead. I talked to an Irish girl who is temping upstairs. And I read more of Hemingway's Fiesta.
So late was I in getting ready for work that I had to put my tie on while waiting for the train, a cup of coffee balanced on the bench beside me.
I felt tired all day, so that I had to find easy things to do.
I nearly fell asleep in the weekly planning meeting.
Tuesday
Again very tired. Now that I have made the decision to leave the agency I cannot seem to motivate myself to go there. Today I arrived at 10, and made no attempt to explain why I was late.
Most of the afternoon I spent talking to Eleanor (trainee account executive, had been due to leave but now persuaded to stay on). Neither of us had much to do. She described her divorce (some years ago, but the memory obviously still rankles).
Wednesday
In the morning Yvette (agency head) and Julie (account executive) went off to see our car hire client. I was left alone in the agency as everybody else was either out or off. I looked at medical sites on the internet to see why I might be so tired - the time rushed by while I was doing this.
In the afternoon Julie's brother Martin came in to the office and sat in the account execs room talking to her. England football shirt, jeans, clean white trainers. Until a couple of weeks ago he was going out with Andrea, who is now working in the PR division upstairs - no-one knows why they broke up.
He talked about his army cross-country running ("eight mile runs, some five-minute miles..."). He talked about his planned holiday in Grand Canaria. He mentioned he was born in Cyprus (his father had also been in the army).
He stayed for about two hours, handed round a packet of soft mints, then left.
When he had gone Eleanor asked Julie: "Is he stalking Andrea?"
This led to an outburst of invective from Julie about how badly Andrea had treated him and how she didn't want them to get back together. There is certainly a disparity between them - Andrea is nine years older than Martin, has probably double his salary, they have almost no interests in common. "She was just using him" said Julie, "and now she's bored she won't even talk to him."
Thursday
Extremely quiet in the agency today. I think everyone was bored in various different ways. Yvette very blase about the collapse in business.
The only person to be occupied was Eleanor. She worked on an ad for our IT client, and it was obviously too much for her. Rather than ask for help she struggled with it, becoming red-faced and starting to swear.
I openly read newspapers. Jonathan (copywriter) openly read a book of short stories. Julie played games on her computer.
Lunchtime I went to look at the books in Waterstones, which always cheers me up.
Returning to the agency I was in time to see Yvette make an exhibition of herself. She rang Julie complaining that she was unable to park her car in the tiny space in the mews at the back of the building (it is closed by an automatic gate and is only for people in our building). She wanted Julie to go upstairs and find out who owned two cars and tell them to move them. She was shouting so loudly that everyone could here what she was saying. While Julie went upstairs the rest of us crammed ourselves into the toilet lobby where from the window you can look down into the mews. We saw Yvette in her car, the top down, vainly trying to manouvre her sportscar into a space that was over-parked by the cars either side. We saw Julie go down to her and explain she couldn't find out who owned the cars.
Eventually Yvette left her car in the middle of the mews, blocking in almost everyone. We heard her coming up the stairs telling Julie what she was going to do to the two car owners when she met them. Her arrival in the quiet agency was like an explosion.
Later I briefed Jonathan on some copywriting. He is an odd character. He told me very seriously "I really envy people who have incurable diseases as they have such a desire for life whereas I couldn't care less."
Friday
Fridays always seem to bring a sense of relief. I went straight to see my Financial Services client before going into the office. The River Thames looked lovely as I crossed Hungerford Bridge.
What a boring day. Mid-morning I went out to a florist to arrange for flowers to be sent to one of our more important clients (it's her birthday). The flower shop seemed a quaint comfortable world (it is a business that seems to be recession-proof: "People always want flowers" the owner told me).
Later I wrote some copy, and did some research for our toy client. Time seemed to be passing excrutiatingly slowly. I stopped drinking coffee for the rest of the day as it was making me feel ill.
The final stage of the afternoon was completely dead. I talked to an Irish girl who is temping upstairs. And I read more of Hemingway's Fiesta.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
An air of finality - the past week at work
Monday
For some reason I woke at 3.30 and couldn't get back to sleep again, knowing I would be tired the rest of the day.
At the agency it was the birthday of Yvette (agency head). She made lots of references to it during the morning. The rest of us made a collection, and Chris (Accounts, working her notice) went out and bought a bottle of Marks & Spencer champagne which we presented to Yvette. The big woman sat at her desk with a towel wrapped round her head (she had just washed her hair, water dripping onto her blotter).
Most of the day was spent working on a presentation we are due to give to a potential construction client (Crane). I had to do a lot of media research for this. My other clients were all quiet, which gave me the time to get it finished.
Lunchtime and I met PMF (an old sort-of friend) at a City restaurant. We had one of the balcony window seats, the windows open to give a view of the sparkling Thames. The restaurant was nearly empty so no-one overheard PMF's scandalous comments about the son of someone in the government (impossible to know if she was making it all up).
Late back to the office at 3pm, but it was okay as I had pre-arranged this.
Yvette, Julie (Account Executive) and Eleanor (trainee Account Executive) left at 5 with a group of clients they were taking on a theatre trip - Phantom of the Opera.
I stayed until nearly 9, working on the Crane presentation with Neil (graphic designer) and Jonathan (copywriter). We had a bottle of wine sent over from the Italian restaurant, putting it on the agency's account. Jonathan went through Yvette's desk and discovered a reference Yvette had written for Duncan (trainee, dismissed for incompetence) - we were all shocked at how spiteful and bad the reference was.
Tuesday
A rush to get to the agency on time this morning as I knew the morning would not be easy.
What chaos! What hysteria! The hours up to 11 o'clock were almost insane, with everyone's efforts aimed at producing and collating materials for the Crane presentation.
Yvette was the biggest problem, constantly preventing people from getting on with their work due to hysterical outbursts, accusations and torrents of bad language. The main target was Eleanor, and a massive clash was only narrowly avoided (you could see each of them choking back their angry words). Katharine (PA to Terry, our ultimate boss) came down to help us, and she typed up the main presentation report while I read out Yvette's appalling handwriting to her.
At last Yvette and Julie rushed off to the Crane offices.
The rest of us were left with feelings of exhaustion and mild shock.
Andrea (former Account Director working out her notice as a lowly admin assistant in the PR division upstairs) came down to see what was going on.
Eleanor complained bitterly about Yvette's false accusations, saying "She's just trying to cover her arse".
"There's a lot of it to cover" said Andrea.
I felt so tired I could do very little for the rest of the day. Everyone else also seemed exhausted and subdued. We all left early.
Wednesday
During the morning I had to rewrite various invoices that clients had challenged. This was a very tedious task and involved trying to remember work I did three or four weeks ago. This is not always straightforward, as campaigns change so suddenly and frequently that you have to constantly keep notes.
Crane (the potential construction client) rang up Yvette and told her she had not got the account. Yvette transferred the call into her office and closed the door. We could see the red light on the 'phone - the call lasted half an hour, and Yvette was obviously trying to talk them round.
Later we heard the reasons the presentation had failed - Yvette had been too dominant, Julie had been too quiet.
Yvette stayed in her office with the door shut for most of the day. Eleanor described Yvette's likely mood: "She's suffering from shock at the moment. This will turn to maudlin self-pity and then irrational anger".
For lunch I had some pastries, too many pastries, knowing that I was comfort-eating.
Jess Lewis (trainer who is leading a course on teamwork) arrived but Yvette cancelled the training. Jess Lewis went out and bought us all some cream cakes. After so much food I felt bloated.
The afternoon was slow. I worked on three routine ads. Then I went home early - no-one seemed to notice or care.
Thursday
Katherine is now working in the agency, and brings a calm sanity to the offices. She is still doing some of Terry's PA work, and disappears upstairs for hours at a time. Yvette cannot complain about this as Katherine is popular with Terry.
A planning meeting this morning. It is very noticeable how quiet Andrea's former clients have been. Yvette played this down, telling us the market was quiet at the moment.
Most of the day I spent on a series of ads, not difficult but time-consuming.
Yvette went home early.
After she had gone Terry came down and wandered through the offices looking anxious.
At 4.30 Julie's brother Martin arrived. He only comes to the offices when Julie is not there, so presumably she has told him to keep away. As usual he was asking for Andrea, who he used to go out with (he knows she works upstairs now, but he won't go up there).
I rang Andrea's extension, and when she answered I told her Martin had arrived. There was a long pause. Then she put the 'phone down without speaking.
Expecting Andrea to come down I asked Martin to sit down. He was wearing grey trackkie bottoms and a T-shirt that said British Army Training Unit. He talked about his army career ("...want to be a sergeant at least before I come out..."). From where he sat he could look out into the stairwell. I heard the staff upstairs begin to leave for the evening, and Martin watched them carefully, suddenly leaping from his seat and rushing out onto the stairs. I heard him arguing with Andrea ("Leave me alone" she shouted at him).
Friday
For me the agency has an air of finality about it. I have decided not to work beyond the end of August. Also I do not intend to work any notice, but just leave (I have enough holiday owed to me to cover this).
I have a number of campaigns running at the moment, which kept me busy for most of the day. Kennedy, one of the PR execs upstairs (aged about forty, thin, good-natured), wanted to place an ad for one of his clients. He made so many amends to this ad that all records were broken (we keep a score on the studio wall).
Yvette flirted with Kennedy, telling him she had lost nearly a stone in weight.
"Did you drop one of your rings?" Kennedy joked.
Again I left early.
For some reason I woke at 3.30 and couldn't get back to sleep again, knowing I would be tired the rest of the day.
At the agency it was the birthday of Yvette (agency head). She made lots of references to it during the morning. The rest of us made a collection, and Chris (Accounts, working her notice) went out and bought a bottle of Marks & Spencer champagne which we presented to Yvette. The big woman sat at her desk with a towel wrapped round her head (she had just washed her hair, water dripping onto her blotter).
Most of the day was spent working on a presentation we are due to give to a potential construction client (Crane). I had to do a lot of media research for this. My other clients were all quiet, which gave me the time to get it finished.
Lunchtime and I met PMF (an old sort-of friend) at a City restaurant. We had one of the balcony window seats, the windows open to give a view of the sparkling Thames. The restaurant was nearly empty so no-one overheard PMF's scandalous comments about the son of someone in the government (impossible to know if she was making it all up).
Late back to the office at 3pm, but it was okay as I had pre-arranged this.
Yvette, Julie (Account Executive) and Eleanor (trainee Account Executive) left at 5 with a group of clients they were taking on a theatre trip - Phantom of the Opera.
I stayed until nearly 9, working on the Crane presentation with Neil (graphic designer) and Jonathan (copywriter). We had a bottle of wine sent over from the Italian restaurant, putting it on the agency's account. Jonathan went through Yvette's desk and discovered a reference Yvette had written for Duncan (trainee, dismissed for incompetence) - we were all shocked at how spiteful and bad the reference was.
Tuesday
A rush to get to the agency on time this morning as I knew the morning would not be easy.
What chaos! What hysteria! The hours up to 11 o'clock were almost insane, with everyone's efforts aimed at producing and collating materials for the Crane presentation.
Yvette was the biggest problem, constantly preventing people from getting on with their work due to hysterical outbursts, accusations and torrents of bad language. The main target was Eleanor, and a massive clash was only narrowly avoided (you could see each of them choking back their angry words). Katharine (PA to Terry, our ultimate boss) came down to help us, and she typed up the main presentation report while I read out Yvette's appalling handwriting to her.
At last Yvette and Julie rushed off to the Crane offices.
The rest of us were left with feelings of exhaustion and mild shock.
Andrea (former Account Director working out her notice as a lowly admin assistant in the PR division upstairs) came down to see what was going on.
Eleanor complained bitterly about Yvette's false accusations, saying "She's just trying to cover her arse".
"There's a lot of it to cover" said Andrea.
I felt so tired I could do very little for the rest of the day. Everyone else also seemed exhausted and subdued. We all left early.
Wednesday
During the morning I had to rewrite various invoices that clients had challenged. This was a very tedious task and involved trying to remember work I did three or four weeks ago. This is not always straightforward, as campaigns change so suddenly and frequently that you have to constantly keep notes.
Crane (the potential construction client) rang up Yvette and told her she had not got the account. Yvette transferred the call into her office and closed the door. We could see the red light on the 'phone - the call lasted half an hour, and Yvette was obviously trying to talk them round.
Later we heard the reasons the presentation had failed - Yvette had been too dominant, Julie had been too quiet.
Yvette stayed in her office with the door shut for most of the day. Eleanor described Yvette's likely mood: "She's suffering from shock at the moment. This will turn to maudlin self-pity and then irrational anger".
For lunch I had some pastries, too many pastries, knowing that I was comfort-eating.
Jess Lewis (trainer who is leading a course on teamwork) arrived but Yvette cancelled the training. Jess Lewis went out and bought us all some cream cakes. After so much food I felt bloated.
The afternoon was slow. I worked on three routine ads. Then I went home early - no-one seemed to notice or care.
Thursday
Katherine is now working in the agency, and brings a calm sanity to the offices. She is still doing some of Terry's PA work, and disappears upstairs for hours at a time. Yvette cannot complain about this as Katherine is popular with Terry.
A planning meeting this morning. It is very noticeable how quiet Andrea's former clients have been. Yvette played this down, telling us the market was quiet at the moment.
Most of the day I spent on a series of ads, not difficult but time-consuming.
Yvette went home early.
After she had gone Terry came down and wandered through the offices looking anxious.
At 4.30 Julie's brother Martin arrived. He only comes to the offices when Julie is not there, so presumably she has told him to keep away. As usual he was asking for Andrea, who he used to go out with (he knows she works upstairs now, but he won't go up there).
I rang Andrea's extension, and when she answered I told her Martin had arrived. There was a long pause. Then she put the 'phone down without speaking.
Expecting Andrea to come down I asked Martin to sit down. He was wearing grey trackkie bottoms and a T-shirt that said British Army Training Unit. He talked about his army career ("...want to be a sergeant at least before I come out..."). From where he sat he could look out into the stairwell. I heard the staff upstairs begin to leave for the evening, and Martin watched them carefully, suddenly leaping from his seat and rushing out onto the stairs. I heard him arguing with Andrea ("Leave me alone" she shouted at him).
Friday
For me the agency has an air of finality about it. I have decided not to work beyond the end of August. Also I do not intend to work any notice, but just leave (I have enough holiday owed to me to cover this).
I have a number of campaigns running at the moment, which kept me busy for most of the day. Kennedy, one of the PR execs upstairs (aged about forty, thin, good-natured), wanted to place an ad for one of his clients. He made so many amends to this ad that all records were broken (we keep a score on the studio wall).
Yvette flirted with Kennedy, telling him she had lost nearly a stone in weight.
"Did you drop one of your rings?" Kennedy joked.
Again I left early.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
"It's a small token" - the past week at work
Monday
During the morning I went into the quiet room and did some amendments to the German campaign for our toy client. This is the biggest piece of work we have on at the moment, and so is very good for my position in the agency. I get on well with the client because I always write a full justification for every single aspect of the advertising (choice of media, creative rationale, collateral back-up etc).
I was so busy on this work that I forgot to go to lunch on time.
So it was a shock to wander into the account executives' room and hear that Andrea (Account Director) had resigned. She came out of a meeting with Yvette (agency head, a monster) looking very tight-lipped and announced she was leaving. She began clearing her desk and because I didn't know what else to do I gave her a small cardboard box I use to keep magazines in.
Then Yvette asked me into her office and officially told me the news.
"I suppose you're wondering if you'll get her car" she said.
This had been the last thing on my mind. I told her I already had a car and didn't want another one. Yvette said we would talk again about Andrea's clients.
I went back into the account exec's room. Terry (head of the PR division upstairs and our ultimate boss) appeared looking dazed. He went into Yvette's office and shortly afterwards Andrea was called in to join them.
Later it was announced that Andrea would work a month's notice in the PR office upstairs.
Tuesday
Terry's wife Diane is to move into one of the unused small offices on our floor (she runs a small business and works three days a week). It is obvious that she is doing this to keep an eye on the agency as normally she uses one of the "hot desks" upstairs. Perhaps Terry and Yvette are falling out.
Often today I wondered whether I should leave on the same day as Andrea. I know I do not want to go on working at the agency. And I am not enthusiastic about having to pick up Andrea's client list (we almost certainly will not recruit anyone new).
Wednesday
One of the (many) downsides of Andrea's resignation is that with the air of crisis it is impossible to arrive late in the mornings. When I arrived this morning Yvette was looming over Andrea who was sat at her desk. Andrea was sent home to collect agency property she has supposedly stolen - when she returned all she had were a few innocuous papers.
Then Andrea was sent upstairs to help Val's admin team.
At lunchtime Jonathan (copywriter) suggested we went for a drink. We went to the Two Brewers. He announced it was his birthday, but this was an incidental comment. He mainly wanted to talk about conditions in the agency. He thought that with Andrea gone he would become the main target of Yvette's bullying. We reached a loose agreement that if either of us was attacked we would act together to protest.
Later that afternoon we all gathered in the general office where Yvette gave Jonathan a present Eleanor (trainee account executive, working out her notice) had bought earlier.
Handing Jonathan the gift-wrapped package Yvette said: "It's a small token of our appreciation - actually it's quite a big token when you consider our appreciation..."
We all laughed politely.
Late afternoon Martin, Julie's brother and Andrea's former boyfriend, arrived asking for Andrea. He was wearing a suit, a red T-shirt, black shoes. Julie was out. Eleanor told him Andrea no longer worked in the office (technically true, although she was only upstairs). He asked if he could wait and sat down in a chair, reading a martial arts paperback. After about half an hour he left, telling Eleanor and myself that the army was transferring him soon (presumably he wanted us to pass this information on).
Thursday
The agency has become very silent following Andrea's resignation. The atmosphere one of boredom mixed with tension. Julie (trainee account executive) has become very withdrawn.
During the morning I met with a German media buyer. She told me that the best-selling magazines in Germany are television listings. "There is tremendous personal wealth in Germany" she said.
Towards the end of the working day I was asked into Yvette's office to discuss Andrea's client list. I expressed disquiet at the way Andrea was being treated. We talked for quite a while, although not acrimoniously. Yvette told me that she was hoping Eleanor would stay on at the agency. She also wanted Katharine (Terry's PA upstairs) to join us as a trainee account exec. For the time being she intends to handle Andrea's client list herself (which was a relief as I was afraid of having them dumped on me).
Friday
The mystery solved today about why Yvette's car alarm keeps going off. She parks it in the mews at the back of our building. The assistants in the photographic studio on the ground floor have been sneaking out into the mews, rocking the car until the alarm goes off, then rushing back inside again. Yvette caught them this morning red-handed. She apparently told their boss that she wants them sacked. She came back up to our floor seething with anger.
I helped Jonathan with some copywriting and Julie with some media research.
Yvette out all of the afternoon at an awards ceremony (nothing very special).
During the morning I went into the quiet room and did some amendments to the German campaign for our toy client. This is the biggest piece of work we have on at the moment, and so is very good for my position in the agency. I get on well with the client because I always write a full justification for every single aspect of the advertising (choice of media, creative rationale, collateral back-up etc).
I was so busy on this work that I forgot to go to lunch on time.
So it was a shock to wander into the account executives' room and hear that Andrea (Account Director) had resigned. She came out of a meeting with Yvette (agency head, a monster) looking very tight-lipped and announced she was leaving. She began clearing her desk and because I didn't know what else to do I gave her a small cardboard box I use to keep magazines in.
Then Yvette asked me into her office and officially told me the news.
"I suppose you're wondering if you'll get her car" she said.
This had been the last thing on my mind. I told her I already had a car and didn't want another one. Yvette said we would talk again about Andrea's clients.
I went back into the account exec's room. Terry (head of the PR division upstairs and our ultimate boss) appeared looking dazed. He went into Yvette's office and shortly afterwards Andrea was called in to join them.
Later it was announced that Andrea would work a month's notice in the PR office upstairs.
Tuesday
Terry's wife Diane is to move into one of the unused small offices on our floor (she runs a small business and works three days a week). It is obvious that she is doing this to keep an eye on the agency as normally she uses one of the "hot desks" upstairs. Perhaps Terry and Yvette are falling out.
Often today I wondered whether I should leave on the same day as Andrea. I know I do not want to go on working at the agency. And I am not enthusiastic about having to pick up Andrea's client list (we almost certainly will not recruit anyone new).
Wednesday
One of the (many) downsides of Andrea's resignation is that with the air of crisis it is impossible to arrive late in the mornings. When I arrived this morning Yvette was looming over Andrea who was sat at her desk. Andrea was sent home to collect agency property she has supposedly stolen - when she returned all she had were a few innocuous papers.
Then Andrea was sent upstairs to help Val's admin team.
At lunchtime Jonathan (copywriter) suggested we went for a drink. We went to the Two Brewers. He announced it was his birthday, but this was an incidental comment. He mainly wanted to talk about conditions in the agency. He thought that with Andrea gone he would become the main target of Yvette's bullying. We reached a loose agreement that if either of us was attacked we would act together to protest.
Later that afternoon we all gathered in the general office where Yvette gave Jonathan a present Eleanor (trainee account executive, working out her notice) had bought earlier.
Handing Jonathan the gift-wrapped package Yvette said: "It's a small token of our appreciation - actually it's quite a big token when you consider our appreciation..."
We all laughed politely.
Late afternoon Martin, Julie's brother and Andrea's former boyfriend, arrived asking for Andrea. He was wearing a suit, a red T-shirt, black shoes. Julie was out. Eleanor told him Andrea no longer worked in the office (technically true, although she was only upstairs). He asked if he could wait and sat down in a chair, reading a martial arts paperback. After about half an hour he left, telling Eleanor and myself that the army was transferring him soon (presumably he wanted us to pass this information on).
Thursday
The agency has become very silent following Andrea's resignation. The atmosphere one of boredom mixed with tension. Julie (trainee account executive) has become very withdrawn.
During the morning I met with a German media buyer. She told me that the best-selling magazines in Germany are television listings. "There is tremendous personal wealth in Germany" she said.
Towards the end of the working day I was asked into Yvette's office to discuss Andrea's client list. I expressed disquiet at the way Andrea was being treated. We talked for quite a while, although not acrimoniously. Yvette told me that she was hoping Eleanor would stay on at the agency. She also wanted Katharine (Terry's PA upstairs) to join us as a trainee account exec. For the time being she intends to handle Andrea's client list herself (which was a relief as I was afraid of having them dumped on me).
Friday
The mystery solved today about why Yvette's car alarm keeps going off. She parks it in the mews at the back of our building. The assistants in the photographic studio on the ground floor have been sneaking out into the mews, rocking the car until the alarm goes off, then rushing back inside again. Yvette caught them this morning red-handed. She apparently told their boss that she wants them sacked. She came back up to our floor seething with anger.
I helped Jonathan with some copywriting and Julie with some media research.
Yvette out all of the afternoon at an awards ceremony (nothing very special).
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