Posy's a bit wound up by things, convinced that "they" (she's already picked up that habit) know more than they're letting on about cuts, reorganisations, efficiencies and sundry gremlins, hobgoblins and calamities of moment.
I've tried to explain:
"It's much, much worse than that: they seriously don't have an idea from one day to the next. It's all being made up on backs of fag packets one daft decision at a time, each with no reference to the last decision or the next, and managers too often finding out what's going on from their underlings."
The truly awful thing is that we both find this a comforting thought.
5 comments:
I can understand finding other people's idiocy comforting.
The really scary thing isn't that "they" have a plan, but that "they" will be the ones chosen to implement a plan when it's thrown down the line at them...
Tea rooms are the best place to go if you want to find out what's going on. Oh and picking up discarded fag packets to check for plans, just in case...
A rival appeared on the
Grauniad today btw...
Pat: quite so, quite so.
Macy: luckily, "they" will be ones who delegate the implementation to dumb nits like myself.
Happy Frog and you: the library has one strategically-placed window overlooking the entrance to The Monkey's Arms and the Town Hall car park. It's useful at half-four on a Friday.
Macy: Doncaster is the someone else who's worse off than yourself. We're old friends, poor devils.
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