Help Required:

It is annual (!) appraisal time. I didn't go through this last year (or the year before) but it nevertheless to be referred to as the Annual Appraisal. I'm slightly puzzled, because when I was a school girl annual implied once per year. But I'm getting on a bit now, so possibly this confusion is just a by-product of that ageing process.

Any ho. I'm struggling so any assistance will be appreciated. (By the way you all flunked the history test, perhaps you'll find this easier as it relies more heavily on creativity and precision and accuracy are inherently non-obligatory - or that's the approach I'm advocating. Perhaps that's where I'm going wrong.)

The section of the form I'm working on is the Appraisal - Self Assessment part.

The first headline is Customer, and the first question is What have I done Well? which I've answered with - not killed even one of them. The second question is What could I improve? and I've put : obviously under the circumstances nothing. Finally, I'm asked my Objectives for this year? and I've set myself the objective of continuing not to kill or disable any customers, what ever the provocation (and get a new job).

I suspect these answers will be regarded as 'flippant'.

The second headline is People (though the guidance notes provide bullet point guidance for this such as attendance and standard of dress, so perhaps this is a sly Initiative Test), and the questions are the same. My answers are: (a) turned up reliably and disguised my contempt for the job and my colleagues, (b) do the above more ostentatiously, (c) convince everyone I both like and respect them (and get a new job).

The third headline is Finance which I'm to understand to mean accuracy, knowledge of policy and awareness of security. Hm. So far (the questions are the same) I've come up with (a) not nicked anything or knowingly over-charged anyone (b) continue not to nick anything and make burnt offerings to the gods* in the hope that some day soon will harmonise the prices on the shelf with the prices charged at the tills and (c) get a new job that pays me a decent wage (or publish something in the meantime).

Headline number four is Operations and that covers process and procedure : right now my answers are (a) worked out loads of shit all on my own because no fucker's been arsed to actually explain anything to me, (b) work out loads more shit all on my own, but not reveal this out of respect for the feelings of those who are paid more than me, and (c) come up with an escape plan that works, or if that fails take the next annual appraisal (in 2010?) less unseriously (promise).

I have a feeling my approach to this whole appraisal business won't go down well with Paper-Shuffler (-in-Chief). She loves her job and this might make her cry.

one last thing

But first a note that we'll be attempting again to do the whole 'Indian' thing this evening though not before I've sat through Richard Armitage topless. I've made it clear that I'm not budging until I've had a gander, though I'll probably be disappointed. My standards are absurdly high and my expectations are rather inflated too. This does also mean that there's no prospect of me clambering back aboard that lumbering primitive vehicle today.

I'm still tidying up the labels, having got a bit carried away to be quite honest and making rather a mess of things in the way a child let loose in a sweet shop will make itself sick and end up making a mess over things.

And I noticed that I hadn't followed up on the whole market economics, price fixing observation thing.

This was not the morning to be dredging from the archives what I've retained by way of neoclassical arguments against and my non-marxist observations on the benefits to consumer of collusion which unquestionably happens in the UK drink market.

I'm suspending all efforts on this front in favour of something at which in this state I'm likely to be at least partially effectual - breathing in and out, for example.

Things I'm too tired to do

This list doesn't include cooking an evening meal for the family, scrubbing the bathroom out or having a couple of beers.

I have been awake since 4:00am this morning. Things I might at one point have commented on include:

• the grotesque lewd humour to which I was subjected by the Big Swinging Dick and the Maltese Terrier before 9:00 this morning,
  
• my opinion on the McCanns and what I make of their being interviewed at great length;
  
• being the dubious pleasure of being patronised by my immediate supervisor,
  
• The Argies sticking it up the Frogs*,
  
• how much I loathe Yoda
  
• why I hate my job
  
• why my husband is a sad lazy fucker

But it has taken me so long to log in to Blogger that all I can offer is a tidied up but otherwise totally uninteresting piece on drivers and this list as an insight into what goes on in my tiny little mind.

I just might pick up on the lewd conversation bit. I didn't think that in this day and age it went on any where. Believe me, it does.

Taking Stock

Any idea how most major business get an annual or biannual stock taken completed? Turf out the staff and all but a skeleton staff, bring in specialists, let them loose, receive their report, pay their invoice, know exactly where you start at the beginning of the new trading period. Simple.

What you don't do is have the staff carry out the stock count, during normal trading hours, while the shop is open for what is notionally business as usual. You have disgruntled staff, disgruntled customers, disgruntled management and an inadequate, inaccurate count. It is simply impossible to get a clear and accurate picture of stock levels if you've got trading going on simultaneously.

Any hoo, it looms. We have a weekend in prospect of doing 1, 2, 3, scribble. Some of the staff will be doing this barefoot, since we don't have enough calculators to go around. No one is supposed to be exempt from count-fest. Even the idiot yard man is expected to be about, even if it is just to show willing, set an example and get under everyone's feet - though I'm being metaphorical here since nobody wants to get within spraying distance of the Village Idiot when he gets himself all excited.

A couple of wastrels have tried to wriggle out of it and had the riot act read to them by the Big Swinging Dick. Formal written warnings will be issued to those who develop funny tummies on the day in question.

Stock levels are allowed to run down somewhat to make things slightly easier for staff, which isn't great for customers. At least this way of doing things is cheap. Then on Monday the Seriously Big Swinging Dicks are paying us a visit so Sunday, while the mopping up work is carried out by senior staff the floor staff will be breaking down and merchandising an stonking great delivery to make the shop that has been allowed to go to pot back up to scratch and then some.

Hoops upon hoops upon hoops. Out of sheer desperation I've bought a ticket in tonight's lottery draw. I don't care what you think of me or what it says about me. If I win a sizeable chunk of that £35million prize I ain't going in.

Something I've just got to say

"All the streets look the same in Riga." A comment of a caller to a debate on Brits abroad. Listening to this as I was preparing to get this off my chest, and thinking it timely, I offer it up.

Last week's jolly to XVille in the company of the Big Swinging Dick granted me a lot greater exposure to his sparkling personality than any circumstances hitherto. At one point we caught a glimpse of someone he recognised; our auditor, who is a refugee from the coal face. According to BSD The Auditor had a brother who emigrated to South Africa some years ago and set up his own retail business. It all came to a tragic end when some "Piccaninnis come (sic) in and machine gunned him in the course of the robbery." Bloody hell, for all sorts of reasons.