Oh, the HR slags are onto me today, Monday morning right off the bat. Gawd, one after the other, pow, blam, thwack. What have I done to deserve this?
The Ponytail, “Tell me what I want to know.” (She is demanding always with an accusatory tone)
The Snarky Blond, “Give me the answer to my question.” (As the name suggests, she has a snarl to her tone, always unpleasant)
Jessie, this-doesn’t-make-sense-to-me, Fletcher, “Why is this blah blah blah.” (Once I thought she was the exception to the rule, a lovely HR person, but she turned out like all the rest in the end. Always questioning, always wanting something, and always wanting an explanation in detail if I don’t want to do what she wants)
Fillet-of-fish, “Why haven’t you blah blah blah.” (I can hear her bogan nasal tones even when I am reading her emails. The most senior of all of them, and almost more useless than the rest.)
The superstars of HR.
Bite, bite, bite, scratch, scratch, scratch, claw, Claw, CLAW, like the witches from MacBeth crawling out from the rocks under which they live, seemingly all at once, rah-rah, rah-rah, rah-rah.
Storm surge!
I don’t know who kicked their kennels today but they are all at me for something. Back, back, she-devils, begone before I throw water over you and dissolve the lot of you.
That’s one thing I am glad about, not seeing them in person. Very happy to have the space of working from home between us. At least this way I can talk to them by email when I choose to respond.
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