3pm. Wednesday. Boris and I have a meeting about handover on Wednesday afternoons, as she feels that she is sometimes left unaware of what has been going on, and what the outstanding issues may be.
The meeting quickly becomes about HR and our communication. My communication, specifically.
Boris, apparently, is getting criticised for not managing ‘the problem’ effectively.
I have to deal with this dumb as a box of rocks HR dope in Sydney. And because HR are essentially the exec’s police, they have all the contacts in the upper echelons.
I have bought this on myself, setting myself up for criticism with sending snippy emails to this junior moron. Stupid me. It effectively takes any heat that she deserves straight off her and onto me. The message of her incompetence is lost in the smoke screen of her complaining that I am being mean to her. Stupid me, I have fallen into the archetypal, bitchy HR, self preservation, trap again, yet again. These bitches learn from each other early.
I must do better, as it puts blame on me rather than the problem of this stupid HR twat. And the fact that senior HR people, The Ponytail and Fishface are not training their junior staff, instead leaving it up to us to effectively train them.
It is my weakness, I cannot stand morons. If I have to deal with one, I am always caught out. Again, stupid me.
If I send professional emails, as hard as that is for me to do with a complete dipshit, this problem just goes away. Grrrrr! Stupid me.
Who is the bigger idiot, if I keep falling for this?
No comments:
Post a Comment