We are not amused

In August I was told I was swapping jobs with someone else. I was also told that, while I didn’t have a choice about it, I was not being forced. (I still haven’t worked that one out.) I was not, and am still not, impressed with this whole thing and cannot summon up any interest for the new role. (I won’t go into details because I’ve already done that rant.)

I am afraid (and a little embarrassed) to say I have consequently spent the last few months with a rather noticeable chip on my shoulder – possibly visible from outer space. I’ve gone round in circles in my head and ended up thoroughly confused. Half the time I think I’m justified to feel upset and the rest of the time I wonder if I’m actually just being a spoilt brat.

At first the change was due to happen at the beginning of September, then it was October, and so on. It still hasn’t happened yet but it’s been hanging around like a bad smell that you can’t quite get rid of. (It’s resting on a big systems thing at work finally going through when the other person will become ‘free’.) When it finally happens it involves desk moves. The latest was that these would happen the beginning of January.

I had yesterday afternoon off work to finish off Christmas shopping and before I left at lunchtime I jokingly said, “So will I come in tomorrow morning to find us all moved?” I was told “no”.

I suppose, strictly speaking, this answer was correct because when I arrived at work this morning everyone else’s desks looked as they usually do, but my desk was strangely lacking a computer. In my absence I had been moved to the other side of the office.

If this had been the usual sort of move where the whole team is moving together I wouldn’t have minded because I know we would have all ended up together. But to me, this move symbolises being moved on to my new unwanted role and I found the way it was done just a tad insensitive. I wouldn’t even have minded so much if the rest of my team had moved to their new desks on the same day. At least we would all have moved on at the same time.

By half past ten my former desk had become a sort of Christmas larder with a large Stollen cake and paper plates on it and, save for one accidentally abandoned post-it note containing a reminder to myself, you wouldn’t have known I’d ever ‘lived’ there at all.

So, I was not amused today. I’ll get over it, and I’m well aware worse things happen and sea and stuff (and it’s not like I’ve been made redundant)  but I need to vent a little.

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1 Response to “We are not amused”


  1. 1 sal December 22, 2007 at 6:52 pm

    Totally understandable that you feel the need to vent, that was a really insensitive way for your company to handle the move. Hope you ate lots of the stollen cake!


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