Dear Horribble Imposter

As I muster all my willpower in search for zen, for inner peace and remains of sanity- I will express how much I really enjoy working for the whole gang of fake managers i had pleasure to work for. Not.

1. When I send you email asking for confirmation of instruction- it's not because I have some secret crush on you, neither do I thrive in being uber-polite emails but because I HAVE a JOB to DO. And as I don't interfere in your strategic thinking, implementation of your superimportant project, design and other things that are in your jolly job description. It's because your comment in passing, Chinese whispers or yet another wishful thinking tirade you decided to verbalise does not constitute for a proper instruction that creates audit-worthy trail.
There's really no hidden agenda- I promise.
I ask  simple questions and I'm far too busy and simple to play any sick games you might want to turn it into. And yes, if your responses are in bold, red CAPITALS you are on a good trail to score Asshole of the Month award. Oh, cc'ing every man(ager) and his dog does bump your score too, well done.
You won, you sent shirty email and I established your superiority by showing everyone that you utterly lack understanding that there's many cogs to make this corporate machine work.
Next time you show up in my office, I will smile at you oh-so-politely. And you will still smell of shit.



Sent from my iPhone

It's all about the Benjamins baby...

Before P.Diddy declared this undeniable reality, famous man presented on those little cards said that the only two things certain in life are death and taxes.

I’m not going to have a massive dispute over it, as I simply agree with Mr Franklin.

Even Bible talks about paying your taxes, God himself paid taxes- if not sure, check out Matthew 22, 15- 22.

Part of growing up for me both as a person and a christian, was the acceptance of taxes and conviction that it is the right thing pay them.What came as a sad conclusion was the fact that each week I work 1 day for free. I work to pay my taxes and National Insurance. Amen. But honestly- I don’t mind, I pick that day to be Monday, with this approach everything is better after Monday.

But on a bad Mondays I get angry that my hard work translated into tax payments is somehow wasted to ‘support’ all lovely people who watch daytime telly whilst I’m at work. I know it’s wrong to make such a generic statement however sometimes it’s hard to avoid, especially when I see those families in my area. Fair enough, you claim benefits for one reason or another, but isn’t it  a wee bit demoralizing? Getting something for nothing and claiming it’s alright?

The only person that gives me something for nothing is God, everything else works under simple capitalistic rules. And even if you are in bit of a unfortunate situation where you can't afford to go to work and send kids into childcare, maybe if you’re claiming the least you can do is teach your kids some basic manners and actually work on their upbringing? Is this too much to ask for? Moral conviction instead of endless excuses? 

Another sad aspect of the whole governmental support system that it has been based on the assumption of society being honest and reasonable. That’s clearly very virtuos however stupidly unrealistic.

Now that I work for tax-funded organisation I have even more anger because ignorance truly must be a bliss. Otherwise I would've spent less time logging breaches and more on spending monies wisely.

So instead of going angry and upset next Monday I will concentate on the fact, that my taxes are also used in other areas.

Because I pay taxes I have an access to a healthcare, I drive on a not-too-bad roads, I received free councelling when I needed it,  my friends family gets support with her son’s health issues, there are other families with kiddies with additional needs and they get driven to school, they get quality time and support they require. So just to comfort my ironic mind, I choose in my heart to work each Monday for the things I just mentioned.Ha!

More to Life???

Almost every day, every bloody weekday I come from my workplace and wonder. Is this what adult life is about? Is this really IT?

I graduated with 2:1 BSc, good grades and strong conviction that my brain is more attractive than my long legs. However instead of using it to make a difference this is what I do on almost-daily-basis.

I fight THE SYSTEM.

Seems like System contains of:

- People who don't give a rat's ass about anything but their bank account balance and 9-5 regime.

- People who care but they're too busy fixing and fire-fighting after the ones above

- People who are too high up to notice that the bunch below is clearly not happy and cannot see anymore that slowly but surely all of the above mentioned are getting completely demoralized with inability to distinguish their asses from elbows.

Mix it well with politics, dog-eat-dog sugar-coated with fluffy words and et voila!!! Here's your ordinary workplace.
And please spare me the bullshit that it's not true. I SO wish it was. After working in biscuit factory, toiletries warehouse, university and one of the most prominent companies in UK- I have come to a sad conclusion that it's all pretty much the same, it's only pay grades that change.
Oh and time scale in which you discover exactly same pattern.

And here I am, observing it on a daily basis, resenting some people who have less manners than cows on a field(not much more viable brain cells either), quite possibly wasting a vast amount of trees going by the amount of paperwork that has to be produced, and truly marvelling on what God was trying to tell me by 'blessing' me with this job?

How can I be the best Me when I feel all the things when I'm there?

Is 'ethics' only a fluffy word to substitute 'politics' in a business world?

And God, if it's not Your will that I have a job where I actually make a difference, then bless me with big fat account so I can life for Your Glory and work for free where I do make a change in someone's life.

Your truly,

Corpo-bitch.

The Pole has Landed

It's official: Pole is out of its closet. Even though I fought with idea of going public with my obscene honesty- well, it didn't quite work.
As TV is full of some muppets running after inflated leather sack and one of my best friends decided to kindly bugger off to Big Smoke...I'm sort of bored. And you must be too, if you reading all this waffling.
Anyways, the whole idea for this blog was to address my frustration/pet hates/annoying shits that have been bugging me. They don't exactly have to be Polish-English related, but some of them are. Get ready. Pole is coming.