Dummy Spit

My Dear Princess & Dear Fellows,

Knowing me as you do, and having worked with me, you will know that my typical work demeanour is sanguine. Smiley, happy, friendly (slightly sweary) but for the most part, approachable.

"You are always so HAPPY!" said Ked, a Sri Lankan on the Agricultural Entitlements project for Scottish Govt. What he didn't know was that, at the start of my time there, I'd SPAT THE DUMMY.

This was because Bruce Idiot, my manager at the time, had decided to single me out in a team meeting for unjustified criticism. No, trust me on this, totally unjustified. I mean, this is ME we are talking about here. 

The thing is, in such circumstances, I'm not even that angry. It's just that I felt Bruce Idiot needed a slap, so I unleashed my Temper. 

I think of my Temper as a separate entity from me. It is like an annoying yappy dog that runs around the room, shredding paper and shitting wherever it pleases. My Temper is also very English and proper. It says things like "HOW DARE YOU" and "I THINK YOU'LL FIND".

My Temper is also kind of an unreasonable dick. Bruce Idiot started back-pedalling rapidly. My Temper wasn't having it. But me no buts Tw&tface, I thought, YOU'RE the one who activated the launch sequence, now YOU will have to deal with the fall-out.

"I - I - didn't mean to imply..." stammered Bruce.

"I THINK YOU'LL FIND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WERE IMPLYING," barked my Temper.

It was fun! And afterward, I could sense all the other BA's now thought I was a Badass. Like I had just shivved the biggest convict in the yard. 

So yesterday, Smock got on my nerves. She asked me why I was working through my lunchtime and I said, "Well I don't have anything else to do."

Which is clear, right? It means I don't have anything else to do IN MY LUNCH HOUR, right?

She decided to interpret it as meaning I didn't have enough work. When I explained to her that actually I have LOTS of work to do, she mimed playing an invisible violin. So that annoyed me, but my Temper stayed on the leash.

This morning, first thing, it started again. She had decided to bloody-mindedly continue mis-interpreting what I'd said despite my explaining. She complained how it was really unacceptable that I considered I had NOTHING TO DO when there was a SEROUS BACKLOG... 

Excuse me. I just need to undo the choke-chain.

My Temper ran around like a wet gremlin. It reminded her of ALL THE THINGS I DO AROUND HERE and HOW I HAVE DELIVERED MORE THAN ALL THE OTHER BA'S PUT TOGETHER and HOW I GIVE HER WEEKLY REPORTS ON WHAT I DO and IF SHE HAS A PROBLEM WHY IS IT ONLY JUST COMING UP NOW???

"I - I - didn't mean to imply..." she stammered.
 
"I THINK YOU'LL FIND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WERE IMPLYING," my Temper barked. 

Well, hey, it's a classic. I don't mind using it again.

Lemon arrived at that point and Smock was too embarrassed to continue but my Temper finished up by telling her how I felt in a very English way because my Temper knows no shame. 

"I AM REALLY VERY ANGRY," said Temper.

I think Lemon wondered if I was all right to approach after that. But she soon found that I wasn't angry at all. I'd done my dummy-spit and let Smock know that she needs to wind in her neck. It's the only way she will learn. 

"She can stay in the dogbox all day," I explained. "It will do her good."

It is somewhat ridiculous that we have to behave like children in the office to get respect. But sometimes with managers I think it is the only language they understand.

And now it is the weekend. And my Temper is taking a well-earned rest.

S.