16th of May 2012 - Megacide, Acid Rain and "Pandas: They're Alive"!

At the good ship Amistad still, get the impression my boss is avoiding me, had a solitary e-mail from him today with the request of a report that took all of two minutes.

There are things I could busy myself with I suppose, I heard there was a busy morning with my absence "Oh well" I said sarcastically to Lefty "I only wish I could have been here" we chuckled darkly and he went on to tell me more about a problem he has with wasp nests in his shed that he's been speaking of for the past few days.

This is only a continuing discussion as I once had a wasp nest in my garden shed and I explained how I dealt with it armed only with a jam jar, a can of fly/ wasp spray, a laminate floor saw and a bag of testosterone (my own metaphorical testosterone, I didn't amp up the wasp's rage, heighten their propensity to catch a potentially woman killing strand of flu or instil an innate deterrent to housework with some kind of serum in a tiny wasp serving hyperdermic needle).

He read a number of website suggestions (including the manner I had used) at one point he read "if I don't want to kill the wasps I have to take the queen 3 miles away so she doesn't return and rebuild" I imagined Lefty with the queen (the wasp queen, not Queen Elizabeth II) on the passenger seat of his car (with the set belt over it of course) putting it out in some field miles away from home and leaving it before turning around and heading back "charming." I thought "no way to treat wasp royalty" my thoughts then flicked to the queen wasp I dispatched in a still jam coated jar within a bag, within a wheelie bin. Anyway Lefty was explaining how since we last talked he had used foam to fill cracks in his shed. I wondered why he didn't just man up and do what I did, didn't say that though. With retrospect I wish I'd man'd it up even further with an Arnie-esque death quip like "Hey your majesty! Let's JAM!”

Speaking of blighting the environment one thing I have been doing at work is printing processes for my job (for the next sucker to take the mantle), As I lifted a catalogue of report instructions from the printer I pondered the amount of trees I must have killed to make it or was this perhaps recycled paper? I'm not very environmentally conscious I believe this is because School's lies have diminished any threat to the environment in my view.

Let me explain, when I was school there was talk of acid rain. ACTUAL ACID RAIN. What happened to that? There was a hole in the O-Zone layer and there was every chance we were going to melt to a horrible death whilst waiting for the school bus under a torrent of acidic rain. You never hear of acid rain or the O-Zone layer any more, are either of these still a threat? Did either of them ever even exist? Then elephants, I was told that my children would likely never see the likes of elephants and pandas, such was their limited number and the voracity of man and man's effect on the environment. Flash-forward to now and three of my four children have seen them (I don't think my baby son has but that's down to lack of interest and opportunity NOT because they're all dead!) if I die before all the elephants and pandas I will be most annoyed!

I saw a news report recently saying that from some fossilised something or other they can re-create woolly mammoths within a few years. Mammoths! Long extinct mammoths! And we're worried about saving common elephants! You can't throw a stone without hitting an elephant.... Well in the zoo or some kind of elephant reserve you couldn't. What other lies did they peddle in school? Next I'll be hearing that writing in a red pen isn't in fact rude.

14th of May 2012 - Free Adam!

Oh...By the way the call was from MI5 (or the company I will henceforth refer to as MI5) and I accepted. "Yay Adam! You got what you wanted!" I hear you cry. Not yet I haven't as when I took the news to work that as I was leaving (As I announced I would if the God Managers at my current job decided to switch my hours completely) I was met initially by happiness that I'd found a new job.

Well I say happiness.... It was very odd. I sat with my boss who had been the conduit through which the two God managers on high communicated to me who sat as I said. "I just wanted to give you notice, I've found a new job." He replied "Oh good, good" his tone was pleasant he was smiling but his face reddened and he had a bit of an odd nervous twitch in his eye going on, We discussed what it was doing and I explained that it was a better job for me and a little closer to home. I had said to my new boss to be that I'd need at least 4 weeks notice. I checked with HR before and my contract says for the time I've been with the company they could request up to 2 months!

You can probably see where this is going can't you?

So my boss said he would consider what is required and get back to me and I'd have to put my notice in writing ..... Only he didn't get back to me..... And you can only put your written notice in when you can state the date you're leaving.

Clever eh?

Or NOT clever as I've seen this little ruse used before! I marched up at the end of last week and said "have you thought about how long I'm required?" his tone had changed to sheepish, his face looking as though if it could all just crawl into his mouth and he could close it it would have been an impassable option. He said (of course) that I would be required to stay for the full 2 months, unless someone can be brought in to cover my role and is up to speed in which case I can leave in 6 weeks. I was also asked if I could write a job description for my job, I almost laughed aloud at this point.

I'm a large, relatively quite man, not aggressive in the slightest. I don't hide emotion well though. My face will always betray me should I pretend to agree. I don't bother pretending to agree to things now, I don't bother with small talk and if I see someone I don't want to talk to I will actively avoid them and to be honest "them" is most people. What a waste of time seeing someone you didn't talk to at school for example is when they stop to ask what you're doing now. If we had any kind of connection then they would know. There are a number of ways of doing this, my favourite is probably the old "just keep moving, one word greeting in passing and carry on" you may at times have to leave embarrassed people who are turning on the spot with an open mouth loaded with discussion but every war has it's casualties

This is moving away from the point though. Standing there at my boss' desk I felt incredulous, this must have shown as my already apprehensive boss was seemingly cowering with his explanation. It was odd seeing him like this as he is generally cocky and full of bravado, not in a particularly obnoxious way, I don't actually dislike him which in fairness is a credit to him as it doesn't take much for me to dislike someone.

So here I am stuck for 2 months, my office has become Amistad. I told other members of staff I will now only be referred to as my employee number and will have "Free 39031!" T-Shirts printed for anyone willing to join the protests.

What annoyed me most was that when I said if my hours are changed and my family affected I will leave they scoffed, they as good as laughed at my threat making me feel like an expendable goldfish. Now this goldfish has found wings it seems I'm indispensable to the fishbowl! They couldn't possibly live without me and will hold me as long as they are legally able.

I told Lefty of the news today, he replied "well, you don't REALLY have to stay for two months do you?" he gave an impish grin. I replied "I'm not going to burn the place down, it's not worth killing a few and putting the rest out of jobs just so I can start a new one" his face flashed from horror to laughter. It was easier to say this than explain that my boss was my reference and I don't want to give MI5 the idea I'm the type to break a contract, no, if they want me for two months so be it. MI5 have accepted it and I'll be counting down the days till I can rise victorious from these shackles of hypocrisy!

10th of May 2012 - Stay and Play and Brag and Annoy

My two year old daughter loves playgroups, stay and plays or whatever you call them. I do not. I love her though so I will occasionally make the sacrifice as the hours I work mean these are the small hours I can spend with her and my son who probably doesn't care about staying or playing much prefering to chew anything he's not supposed to have which is considered a developmental stage of an eight month old. So on this day I decided to take them to a stay and play group which is run by members of a nursery two of my daughters have been to. Now I don't like children. I know I have four, and I love them but outside of this children are just annoyances who may or may not do something I probably won't be able to tell them off for as I'm not their dad and they've been raised wrong.

You quite often see parents ESPECIALLY at stay and plays talking about styles of parenting. There are no "styles" your kid is either a menace or well behaved and 9/10 times this is solely down to whether parents raised them right or wrong. If you did it right your children will revere and respect you if not they will dismiss your requests and do what they want....Snatch, bully, get fat, break things that aren't theirs, murder.... So it never ceases to amaze me that these future murderers are always cooed over by their mothers at these things. I'm sat nicely reading a book with my son and daughter and some snotball toe-rag waddles up turning pages and trying to pull the book from me whilst his mother who was only just bragging how fantastic he was almost whispers "no leave that one look at this!" he of course does nothing to acknowledges such requests. With retrospect I should have asked my daughter to slide of the chair creep behind him and drop him with a kidney punch.

But then it would be I potentially raising a murderer although a cool assassin type with a code of honour not some serial monster so I'd still have done a better job.

I don't brag about my children's abilities, I have high expectations of them and they are beautiful, as their father you'd expect this and it's something I reserve discussing with my wife or my children, if anyone outside remarks these things of my children I'll simply thank them. I cant stand people who enforce their childs ability or looks on others because the truth is most the time they're not stating facts, just their own feelings as parents your kid just looks like a kid to everybody else and they're most likely not the best in the world at anything so appreciate who they are rather than how best you can vicariously project. Another bug bear of mine is people entering their child in "Cutest this ..." or "Face of that..." and requesting everyone on Facebook vote for them. If you have to ask for votes not only is your child not the cutest but you're a mother who everyone hates because you keep asking everyone to vote for your stupid, average looking kid every week!

Did I say I don't like playgroups?

8th of May 2012 - MI5

Had my interview with what I suspected was MI5 after all the necessary hurdles to simply apply for the job. It wasn't MI5, it was the actual job role that they'd specified in the advertisement. Gutted. It's highly unlikely that this company will issue me with a pistol and a license to kill, I doubt they'll even give me one of the two.

Had to take a database excercise test first, as if the stringent tests thus far hadn't been enough. I wondered if I might have to dress in a spandex superhero costume and dodge missiles whilst they yelled interview questions over the sound of the blasts at me. I didn't. Perhaps if I had suggested this they would install it for the next poor soul who dared seek employment with them.

I had worried about the database exercise to the point where I was hoping I'd get the job with Penfold and Barry-A-Like before the interview so I could cancel it and save making an idiot of myself, I was out of my depth with this job, my tireless wife had submitted my CV for it and after I read what was required I found I was without not only experience but even base knowledge of most of it though I did like the look of the role itself.

Thinking I wouldn't get anywhere I ventured on with the application, since they continued throwing tasks at me I thought it'd be rude not to complete them and now I found myself driving up to their offices bursting for a wee and having forgotten to buy a bottle of water to sip during the interview, not only making me appear prepared and professional but saving my voice from devolving to that of a starving toad. Then I saw it in the distance, an oasis, a small McDonalds. Oh McDonalds your golden arches a beacon to the needy...

After eventually arriving I waited for quite a while until I was met by a member of staff carrying a laptop (I mean at the interview by the way, not at McDonalds) "what evils does that laptop hold?" I wondered, what dastardly database devilry. I can only proficiently create a database with Microsoft Access, I'm sure otherwise I could knock something together using a mix of tech common sense and experience but within a test time limit I feared I would look an absolute imbecile if I offered up some primary school child's messy drawing equivalent of a database when I'd had the audacity to survive the application process so far.

After being herded to a first aid room by laptop man (who didn't carry the air of seniority you'd expect of management more of a "team member" or guide so I was quite comfortable in his company) he explained all the meeting rooms were full so I'd have to complete the test within. it was a small room with a desk, chair and a first aid bed. Laptop man joked, "if you need a lie down, feel free" I imagined being halfway through the test and a previous applicant being dragged in, his suit blackened with scorch marks, babbling "You'll never survive this! They'll kill us all!" whilst also appreciating that laptop man had actually cracked a joke. I've seen how easily the formality of interview situations kill even the idea of attempting a quip.

I was handed a sheet, given my time limit and laptop man said the golden words "it's all in Microsoft Access". Access, it's as though Bill Gates had flown in on a cloud outside the window stuck an upturned thumb toward me and winked before zooming off to make money somewhere. I ploughed through the test, noticing the clever little trick questions "I wonder if that will trip up the other applicants" I thought, rather I hoped. I actually quite enjoyed it sad though that is.

Following the test I had my interview, I said goodbye to laptop man and asked his name which he gave and wished me the best of luck, he seemed quite genuine too, not the "all the best x" type luck you write in a card for someone you barely know.

The interview was before a panel of three the would be manager of the applicant who was either irish or scottish, I often get them mixed up if I'm not really honing in, a woman who remained largely silent, and a doctor (yes a doctor, I'm not sure what kind of doctor but he was apparently the technical expert) when "the Celt" said the doctor was the technical expert I was thankful, mainly as it meant he was neither a psychologist there to read my every body gesture and utterance or a GP/ Surgeon to stitch me up should the all out assault of the interview get out of hand. The Doctor, (not Doctor Who but the one in my interview, who to be honest thinking about it probably wouldn't have made a bad Doctor Who) had a wild mane of hair and was full of enthusiasm, he looked like someone who admired the intricate detail of things and therefore had an appreciation of life I would say like a young, over-eager Bob Geldof, "perhaps the anti-Penfold" I thought. He demonstrated this by asking question upon question which were completely irrelevant such as "where do you sit in your current job?" literally where, so he could paint a mental picture of me working. Bizarre. I played along though, once I'd described how I sat I even made a comedy gesture of myself typing on a computer at which he grinned.

I felt a lot more myself in this interview, they were interested in me as a person rather than just "have you ever been in situation where....?" (never "you lost your keys and your mobile phone" ever, shame) I got the feel that being a personality fit mattered to them rather than just ticking a few ability boxes and after the gruelling process of getting this far I was surprised they'd found a new way to be picky. It seemingly went well, I half enjoyed the interview, I'm confident in what I am able to do and in most cases that I would be able to learn if presented with the challenge something new so I was like I said "myself" and completely honest.

Talking to my wife about interviews, I get the impression she would like me to kick the interview room door off it's hinges and yell them "I have the World on a stick!" as I think she reckons I crawl shaking like a lamb into the room and shroud my head in my suit jacket popping my head out only to squeak one word answers to the questions. Problem is eventually there's a chance that work will expect me to bring in the world and I don't have it, I don't even have the stick. I just tried to be as Adamy as I could be within the constraints of a suit and an interview environment.

I really enjoyed the place and the people and I hoped beyond hope I would get the job, I asked when I would hear from them, they said that they had to interview someone late next week so it would be two weeks before I would find out, they were intrigued by the question and asked whether I had anything else on. I said I'd just had my 2nd interview with Penfold and Barry-a-like (I actually used their company's name so as not to appear like a lunatic of course, something in me thought that the Doctor might actually have preferred it if I had said something like that though).

I went to my mum's house with my wife and kids and mulled over my situation, could I afford to turn down the first job which is around the corner from my house and I'd only have to work half day on Friday though I don't think I'd enjoy it half as much as working with the Doctor who as good as said he would mould me into a databasing version of a kung-fu master, which probably isn't appealing to many but I do enjoy building a database ....and kung-fu films. Within an hour of us all discussing it my phone rang with a job offer.....

3rd Of May 2012 - Caught Clean Handed

Had my second interview this morning, went pretty much the way of the first one, Penfold gazing at me like I was eyeing up his only daughter and Barry-A-Like looking quietly impressed. He's enigmatic Penfold, I get the sense that you could never read what he's thinking, still don't know his real name either, maybe he just said some made up name in a purposeful manner that I couldn't understand to maintain his level of aloofness. It's hard to put your true character across in an interview, it is so formal and constrained I try to remain light hearted and laid back as I am but quips are disarmed and it feels as though you are talking to people who are viewing you through the scope of a rifle.

Penfold probably would have fired if he had a rifle, he doesn't look very happy with what life is currently offering him. I think if I do get the job I better warn everyone he looks like a man on the edge to me and not to lend him their rifle. I really don't know how it went, it's odd knowing there were two of us left vying for the job, I wonder if he needs this job more than me, we don't know each other, we don't know how good the other is, it's like two people playing a tennis final with blindfolds on, well it's not really like that at all, well I hope not, I'm rubbish at tennis.

Righty regaled me with a story that when he was leaving work yesterday afternoon the police were arriving and he asked what happened this morning, he was told a manager on our level had phoned the police because he could smell alcohol on a driver making a delivery. The person who had told Righty this story apparently chuckled as he explained that everyone else thought the alcohol smell was most likely some of that anti-bacterial hand gel that they have in the office that a few people had recently used. The police turned up, the breathalyser they had didn't work so they had to go away and return back later (by which time the driver was becoming more agitated) with a new breathalyser some two hours after the original call. He was all clear and eventually let go irate that he had been holed up and accused of drinking. The manager himself approached Righty later (whilst I was there) saying "I heard you were wondering why the police were here?" and then went on to explain how this driver was so obviously out of his tree and wreaked of booze but the two hours had allowed him to sober.

It's a funny thing perspective. I wondered whether the manager in question had potentially saved lives or whether perhaps he was an idiot. Better to be safe than sorry they say. That's why I never apologise. Much better to be safe.... In the knowledge that you are/ were right.

2nd of May 2012 - Slugs, they're faster than you think

In again, boss is still sick, I wonder if I could just sit in the office and do nothing but click between spreadsheets for eight hours? The only thing stopping me is my own boredom I think. When I was a child and I would say (as all children with a house full of activites and a world of opportunities available say) "I'm Bored" my dad used to say "you're not bored, you're boring" who knows, maybe my dad knows best and I should commit myself to doing nothing all day, wouldn't want to be boring.

I wonder if in a few years my children will be moping about, huffing, groaning and wailing in the hope that I will ask them "what's wrong?" so they can retort that they are "so bored", I guess they will as "kids having nothing to do" is still cited as the reason for youth crime, despite the kids of today perhaps having more to do than any other generation preceeding them. I'm not sure what it is that criminal kids wanted to do, perhaps they want to ride dolphins to the moon and since the Government or local council has not made this available they mug people? I think the general thing blamed is the "closed community centre" which the criminal youth of course would never have attended anyway.

I do so hate when the line "...because the kids have nothing to do" is rolled out, maybe I'm being too harsh, perhaps posters of my dad wagging a finger with the slogan "YOU'RE NOT BORED, YOU'RE BORING!" should adorn the innercity streets and kids would see it and think "hey, Adam's dad's right, maybe I'll pick up a football or go to the library instead of smashing a window or snatching a purse and winding up in juvenile detention".

Last night I was feeding the guinea pigs when I noticed an infestation of slugs making their way into the bottom floor of their hutch (the pigs live in the top floor, yes, they live like rockstars) I had to scoop them out into a bag and throw it in the bin (the slugs, not the guinea pigs) I'm not sure what the correct procedure for slug disposal is but it seemed a better bet than my wife's suggestion which seemingly by hand gesture appeared to be scoop them and flick them into next door's garden. It's just as well she's an interpreter and not an exterminator. She did later explain she meant flick them down our own garden. I'd have preferred next door's.

We need to get some copper or salt down, I went for the salt but we only have coarse, rock sea salt, we weren't sure if pouring that out would work and the other option of me actually working my way along the guinea pig hutch grinding the salt mill like some insanely hungry, french Wil E Coyote (Do the french eat slugs as well as snails? You'd have thought they'd be less work) wasn't really appealing to me. They're quite quick slugs, I was surprised, I'd not really paid attention to them before but they cover a distance more swiftly than you would imagine, I guess they're not hampered by carrying a shell like their snail cousins, I reckon a slug would leave a snail standing .... Or whatever a still snail is actually doing. Are they related? I mean they look the same to me, I'm finding I know very little about slugs and snails right now.

1st of May 2012 – Seconds Out, Round Two

I've been offered a second interview! I'd waited to the point where honestly I was thinking that either I was so poor in the 1st interview that they couldn't even be bothered to tell me they hated me or there had been some massacre occur there by an unstable interviewee after Penfold had given him a funny look, or a REALLY angry Villa fan who thought that perhaps Barry-A-Like looked a little too Barry like. It turns out they want me to go back in for round two though (ding ding).

I've also been offered another interview with a different company that has thus far made me jump through hoops to apply. My initial application with CV and cover letter was met with an online questionnaire, passing this I then had to complete two reasoning tests by an outsourced company online, then I had to retrieve the Holy Grail and uncover the secrets of the Philosopher's Stone. OK, I didn't have to do the last two but I would sincerely hope that when I arrive for this interview they will tell me that the job description advertised was a ruse and I will actually be operating on Her Majesty's Secret Service and issued a PP9 pistol and an agent number.

It's hard work this getting a job lark, no wonder people opt to drink cans of Stella outside the Job Centre in tracksuit bottoms, I always thought they were perennial dole dossers, now I know they are steeling themselves with Dutch courage before returning to "the front"…..That or they're perennial dole dossers.

Work's busy, my manager's off sick. Righty, Lefty and I addressed one of those "world is going to end" work issues, Righty in his usual cynical opinion reckons our manager will take the plaudits for our work as he rang to see how it was going, I say cynical, he's probably right. Our manager is one of those who will spout "think outside the box!" it's one of the things that puts me off my job. I don't like to think outside the box, I like the box, if the box didn't work then there wouldn’t be a box at all probably just a bunch of hippies working on the fly who'd wind up killing themselves with their own stupidity. I can't wait to leave. I hope it sticks and twists a hole where I have left and it all comes crashing down. I know that sounds bitter but that is because I've been as good as told that I either don't have the bottle to leave or that I have no value and they'd rather I leave .... and because I'm bitter.