Jobs, the noun not the surname, is what keeps the economy going. Most of you have one of them, and I’m willing to lay down a good bet that many of you absolutely loathe your job. And what better thing to remind you of on a Saturday morning than the abject misery you spend your Monday to Friday in? Here are 5 Things I hate about Office Jobs.
Listen, if you work in a factory where the machines are only in operation between these hours and no others, I’d understand if you told me you had to be at your job at certain times. Same if you work in catering, or the police force or what have you. But in an office job, where most of what you do is send emails, do stuff online and look pretty, being in at 0830 counts for less than shit. I know that I’m absolutely useless to do anything before 0930 at least, so why force me? And even better, why force me to be in the office at a certain time and with certain people?
2: Meeting People
We’ve established I’m not big on families in an earlier post. I’m also not keen on people, especially incompetent idiots with whom a smile reeking of fawning adulation must be maintained. Listen, I’m an opinionated, direct, cynical and silly bastard, but my work is freaking excellent. I thought that you brought me here for just that. Just leave me be, I’ll sit it at my desk with death metal playing all day and do the menial tasks you set out for me, provided I don’t have to get up and shake hands with some guy I’ll never like because of his ridiculously over the top shirt and pants.
3: Dress Code
Shirts and pants, how horribly abused you are. Why are you forced onto so many unwilling participants in the rat race, most of whom can not pull your enforced formality off anyway. Admit it, some people couldn’t look worse naked than they do in their seemingly government issue blue shirt and pants that ruffle up there. And what’s the deal with having to wear certain clothes anyway? If there’s no uniform, and I’m not dealing with ‘external’ people on a regular basis, why can’t I wear whatever I please? I’m not going to turn up in a Stasi uniform, worry not!
Matter of fact, I work best when I’m comfortable, in shorts, t-shirt and flip flops. Would you still begrudge me if I told you this saved me on average of 2 minutes everytime I go take a piss, two minutes which I can spend fighting the log in screen on my computer?
I love computers, I truly do, big fan. But man do I hate computers at work. For a start, if we’re using computers and the internet to do our job, I have both of those at home, let me go there and work in peace and quiet, and drink my excellent coffee, as opposed to this weak, pissy brown liquid you ‘provide me with’. Secondly, my computer at home takes a shit on any computer you care to ‘provide me with’. Explain to me why, in 2011, I’m still using Windows XP and Outlook for Web from 2003, on an ancient, vermin ridden piece of shit Dell which someone from Purchasing thought was a ‘ sound team equipment investment’.
Third, if a computer is meant to set you free, then its security is meant to chain you to a post. I can understand the need for security, encryption, what have you, but up to the point where it doesn’t become a bother for me to try to do some work in between dodging dialogue box after error message after computer freeze after complex password requirement. If it gets in the way of me working, then it’s pointless and redundant. To work is why I’m here.
5: Doing nothing
I was always under the impression that people gave you jobs because they needed something done. I’ll use a word I hate here, but I thought people were after ‘deliverables’ when they hired someone. I had that belief knocked out of me like a bad Chinese dish after a just few jobs. Turns out that what most jobs require is that you be the harbinger of nothing but good news, inflate your bosses’ egos, be the fall guy when needed, and generally sit around, look pretty and make yourself look busy. To someone as driven as I am, this is a grand disappointment. I can sit on my arse and do fuck all for a couple of days, but I’m itching and bored by the third, never mind making a career of it.
Of course, you can’t win. If you do actually carry out some work you’re automatically hated by everyone, first and foremost by your boss because you do shit better than him (and it’s always a him isn’t it?), then by your workmates, because you make them look bad. So what do you do? Well, if you’re anything like me, you alternate between fondling your balls and writing venomous anti-Christian blog posts for other bored workers to enjoy and snigger at.