Sunday, March 27, 2011


According to my employment contract, I’m expected to be at work, and most likely working, 8 ½ hours a day. Realistically I’m there 9 hours at least. If I include commuting time and organising myself to go to work, I spend about 11 hours out of my day orientated around work. So basic, and let’s face it demoralising, maths shows that I spend 8 hours sleeping less 11 hours working leaves me with 5 hours in my evenings. Take away a further 2 hours for house work, stopping off at the shops on the way home for sustenance and what not then another hour or so I spend at the gym every other day I’ve got about 2 to 3 hours every day to enjoy my life... “life” mustn’t forget the important inverted comers on that one.

I admit this bothers me a little, but we all do it so I shouldn’t really complain.
The moral of this isn’t “oh pity me, I’m so busy with my modern life”. Let’s face it, I’m the one that wants those new shoes that are completely impracticable and will most likely lead to medical expenses later in life in the form of lower back issues but, they are so pretty and make me feel better about myself, until the balls of my feet start pounding in agony. I don’t want to go without these useless additions to my life so I make sure I can afford the things I want. 

The aim of this little tangent is that we spend 8 ½ hours a day with my work mates and about 3 hours with my partner/friends/ family and most importantly myself. So why do people at work seem to make as little effort as possible to build relationships with their co workers? I’m not saying we all have to be best friends, far from it, but at least try to create a pleasant atmosphere.
I’m referring to one person in particular at my place of work. Snide comments if I’m eating chocolate (it’s my arse and I can do what I want with it), expressly inviting the person next to me out for lunch every bloody day (I’ve never been asked), asking if I’m not feeling well because I look soooo run down (this happens mainly on days where I think I’m dolled up quite nicely).
I admit I don’t want to go to lunch with this person but it the way they seem to intentionally show I’m not welcome. That I’m somehow not worthy to be in their company and I’m not the only person she does it to (Yes, shock horror it’s a woman that is being a right ol’ bitch in the workplace). It’s that she is going out of her way to make the people around her feel uncomfortable. Then she gets upset that we don’t like her, the poor little poppet.

I try to make an effort with co workers, we do after all spend a hell of a lot of time with them and even though we don’t choose them, they have a big impact on our day to day lives. So I smile when I walk past someone in the kitchen and I ask how their weekend was. I do this because I don’t think I’m a raving lunatic that thinks that my happiness is at the cost of everyone else, that I don’t need to feel superior than someone to make my life worth living.
Being nice 80% of the time is worth it so that 20% that you’re in a grump, someone will make you a coffee and be understanding that you’re only human.

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