direstraits
Well-Known Member
"Not again, fer chrissakes!"
This was going to be so ugly.
"How many times must I tell you to do this? The company loses money every week because of your inability to do your clocking on time! Is it really that difficult, setting aside 5 bloody minutes every bloody Friday?"
Jason was almost apoplectic, his round face already pinkish in his righteous rage. Mondays were normally not very agreeable with me. Not Jason's favourite too, I'd bet.
He sat down, shaking his head. Jason's room wasn’t very big by company standards, but then he’s just the functional lead, not a project manager. His work desk was clean and cleared of all paperwork, which was typical of him and his militaristic tendency to keep things orderly. I locked on the wafting smell of freshly brewed coffee, my eyes on the rising steam.
His laptop was tethered to the docking station, and presently he shook the mouse and the computer awoke with a discreet beep. The 22" widescreen monitor flickered to life, revealing what appeared to be a spreadsheet, and I was willing to bet my stock options it listed my transgressions for the past couple of months. If I had stock options, that is.
"The company reports to the customer on a weekly basis, and our utilization must be pinpoint accurate! They are scrutinizing our activities so closely now soon they'll want us to clock our toilet breaks. We must stay on top and anticipate their concerns, and show value..."
It's normally at this point that I lose my concentration. But seeing that I did screw up on the clocking business, I thought I had better not give him any more reasons to thump me this morning.
"I’m sorry, Jason," I said, "but I have some problems at home, and last week it..."
A loud thud as his fist slammed on the desk. Amazingly the coffee did not spill a drop. "I don’t want to hear it! Do you think Mr Pierce is gonna care when I fail submit my utilization report?" Jason tapped a couple of keys on his keyboard. "Seven consecutive late clockings, and 3 outstanding weeks still unaccounted for, despite me reminding you last freaking week." He fixed me with his stare. "So I want to know. What can we do to stop this?"
"I know I let the company down." I tried to sound sincere, which I was, but sometimes it doesn’t come through well enough. "You know I’m keeping the clients' complaints down, staying late and all that. The clocking, it won’t happen again."
"Get it done this instant," he said. "I won't cover your ass this time. Your utilization will float to management, and you'll have to give your excuses directly to Mr. Pierce." Jason turned his attention to his screen, and said no more.
This was going to be so ugly.
"How many times must I tell you to do this? The company loses money every week because of your inability to do your clocking on time! Is it really that difficult, setting aside 5 bloody minutes every bloody Friday?"
Jason was almost apoplectic, his round face already pinkish in his righteous rage. Mondays were normally not very agreeable with me. Not Jason's favourite too, I'd bet.
He sat down, shaking his head. Jason's room wasn’t very big by company standards, but then he’s just the functional lead, not a project manager. His work desk was clean and cleared of all paperwork, which was typical of him and his militaristic tendency to keep things orderly. I locked on the wafting smell of freshly brewed coffee, my eyes on the rising steam.
His laptop was tethered to the docking station, and presently he shook the mouse and the computer awoke with a discreet beep. The 22" widescreen monitor flickered to life, revealing what appeared to be a spreadsheet, and I was willing to bet my stock options it listed my transgressions for the past couple of months. If I had stock options, that is.
"The company reports to the customer on a weekly basis, and our utilization must be pinpoint accurate! They are scrutinizing our activities so closely now soon they'll want us to clock our toilet breaks. We must stay on top and anticipate their concerns, and show value..."
It's normally at this point that I lose my concentration. But seeing that I did screw up on the clocking business, I thought I had better not give him any more reasons to thump me this morning.
"I’m sorry, Jason," I said, "but I have some problems at home, and last week it..."
A loud thud as his fist slammed on the desk. Amazingly the coffee did not spill a drop. "I don’t want to hear it! Do you think Mr Pierce is gonna care when I fail submit my utilization report?" Jason tapped a couple of keys on his keyboard. "Seven consecutive late clockings, and 3 outstanding weeks still unaccounted for, despite me reminding you last freaking week." He fixed me with his stare. "So I want to know. What can we do to stop this?"
"I know I let the company down." I tried to sound sincere, which I was, but sometimes it doesn’t come through well enough. "You know I’m keeping the clients' complaints down, staying late and all that. The clocking, it won’t happen again."
"Get it done this instant," he said. "I won't cover your ass this time. Your utilization will float to management, and you'll have to give your excuses directly to Mr. Pierce." Jason turned his attention to his screen, and said no more.
