Posted in grousings , hunger management , workaholic
The week has gone by in a jiffy. Needless to say, it was seven days full of madness, agony, torment and (think of the worst word you know).
With reference to my previous entry dated 02 Oct 2009 (damn, me still in work mode), I learnt that that on my office level alone, there are at five Indian head chiefs whom I have to simultaneously report to. Everyone of them has to review and approve (not before inputting their comments) almost every email I send and proposal I write. The only damn sure thing I don't have to knock on their doors to seek approval is to go pee.
Well, writing to chefs - Michelin-starred ones no less - is a tricky business. Some have a heart of gold and berth of [patience as wide as their bellies while others are... well, prima donnas. My boss apparently knows the best. And hence, he becomes my highest authority for approval of sorts. As always in a typical company with more than 30 head counts, one or two would stick out like sore thumbs to resist that 'authority'.
And long story cut short, a Higher One's decision to bypass the Highest One, I got the shitz. The shitz literally rained on me. And then I spent one afternoon breaking down in a manager's room. The irony is, the manager who comforted me and gave me some sound advice isn't from my department. But we connected well in the few after-office hours dinner we had. Her level-headedness advice and gentle egging to get me back on my feet were just what I needed. To stay sane, people-management is imperative. You can say it's playing politics. Unfortunately, I learnt the hard way and there are no two ways about it - in this little mental black book in my head, I've noted the quirks and what-nots of everybody in office.
It's a jungle out there. And my advice is serious.
In the interim, I'm still having fun salivating and unbrashly discussing about cuisine from 9am to 7pm.
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