The Miserable Life of a Middle Manager

Weathered MMM

2012-05-10T09:24:00.002-07:00

Dear cousin,
Your experience sounds very miserable, and I am amazed to realise that even some shitty weather can affect work life!

I had myself a bad experience last week, I crossed London at lunchtime to endure an interview with some small guy in south west london.
Weather was great in the morning and helped me decide on my interview strategy for the day : hiring manager is a dude, sun is shinning, let's go for seduction. Sleeze sales!

Unfortunately heavy showers struck as I came out of the tube station and since I was already late I had no choice but to dive in - with no umbrella.

By the time I arrived I was a total freaking mess, and I made a dramatic entrance. I soon realised that the fucker standing by the door was the hiring manager looking for a first impression of me.

He got it, he also got a very fishy handshake, and I am now expecting a fishy rejection.

Eurotrash

2012-03-27T09:15:00.001-07:00

Fragile eyes look away.

So yesterday I had a second interview with a company considered super trendy in the industry: a small boutique pestilence agency, nice job title to get : Dickhead of Pest Planning. I took the whole day of work to prepare, finished work as early as possible, then run to the place.

The hiring manager could not see me after 6:30 so I had to run like Forest to reach their glossy office of central London in time.

Unfortunately, when I had reached the headquarters, the receptionistas had already left, so I had to stuck my sweaty body to their glass door, and waved for the late workers to let me in.

I was probably dishevelled, because the young guy who saw me and opened the door bared a very wary face. He asked me who I was and why I was here. I said I was Miserable Middle Manager, here for an interview with Cynthia Bladder.

He asked me if I knew what she looked like.

I found it weird, but although I had already seen her Angela Bower face on Linkedin, I said : no I don’t know, I have never seen her, I come for an interview.

I don’t know what I said that, I guess I got worried that the child had found out I was in fact a stalker.

Eventually someone else came, someone very blond told me to sit down and brought me a glass of water.

So I sat down.

And waited

Yesterday the sun was shining and since I had run, I was sweaty.

I became angry at Bladder and I did something weird : I swiped my armpits with my right hand.

and waited again.

20 minutes later she was here, all fresh and bubbly – an American woman. She apologized, she was on the phone. Okay.

I usually like American people, they are very friendly and not too hypo.

So we sat down and started to chat. She had old fashioned questions, I was ready, confident, excited, technical, whatever. I felt the interview was going well.

Until she told me that she liked my technical profile (which I am running away from) and that she was starting to realise that I would be better for another role. That she would be thinking about other roles more suited to my profile.

...

She asked me if I had other questions. I had one more, some bullshit question about the size and personality of the team – but who cared about the idiots since I just learnt I wouldn’t manage them.

She put an end to the interview, thanked me very much, told me she would be in touch with the agent and held her hand...

...which I happily shaked with my right hand...

...for the second time.

Pass time

2012-03-22T10:06:00.003-07:00

When you have nothing to do in an office and you can’t really spend your day watching soft porn, cute puppies videos on Youtube, or even redoing your CV, you start doing things that you would never do in real life.

Indeed, open desk office space has always been bad news for miserable middle managers. Get found by a staff on youtube suffer 50% of team sickness as a result!

So when you are bored, not only your brain looks for pathetic highlights - such as the fact that it is Thursday : one day before Friday and 2 days before the weekend...or pathetic low lights – such as being told off for being late for a very non important meeting... but it also looks for stuff to check out on the internet (that don’t bear flashy images).

First you look for stuff that are relevant to your job/industry. Do some self training, learn about the industry, check the industry news, waste some time on Linkedin. You can do that at least one hour per day, if you have enough energy. Or if you are like me, you develop obsessive habits linked to paranoia such as checking who’s been on your Linkedin profile 20 times per hour. Yeah just in case a top recruiter at your dream company had checked you out.

Linkedin is amazing, you can waste so much time on it....and not feel bad about it. Join stupid forums, check people’s CV, try to understand why less experienced and younger fuckers are senior managers and not you.

There are other stuff to do : check out blogs! Blogs of pathetic people like me, celebrity blogs....but these have a lot of flashy pictures. You can also make friends on forums. Forums of expats, forums of people that share the same miserable passion as you, such as riding children scooters, or blow drying. I have a passion for blow dries, didn’t you know that? Learn so many techniques that don’t work, I have the dullest hair ever.

But the best stuff are the stuff that you can share! Don’t share them on Monday morning...actually don’t share them until Friday because it may cost you some credibility. But on Friday, nobody works. I mean in most companies anyway. Friday is the day of Krispy Kreams, email jokes and funny forwards.

Here is an example, it is a test.

No it is not the purity test where everyone score 10/200 because it is cool to be dirty and pretend to have had threeways with men. It is a random test that you can actually do at work without being caught and called a lazy ass.

Here it is : http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/quiz/2012/mar/13/quiz-are-you-an-introvert?INTCMP=ILCNETTXT3487

Here is my score :

You scored 11 out of a possible 20

You have a tendency towards being introvert. The higher your score, the more introvert you probably are. The nearer to 10 your score is, the nearer to being an ambivert you are (yes, there really is such a word). But even if you answered every single question as an introvert or extrovert, that doesn’t mean that your behaviour is predictable across all circumstances. We can’t say that every introvert is a bookworm or every extrovert wears lampshades at parties any more than we can say that every woman is a natural consensus-builder and every man loves contact sports. As Jung felicitously put it, “There is no such thing as a pure extrovert or a pure introvert. Such a man would be in the lunatic asylum.

So what? I have a tendency to be an introvert but nearer to be an ambivert? Who is the psycho who wrote this shit?

Anyway, the highlight of my day is that I had lunch with myself today, and myself and I had an amazing salad. Unfortunately it was so stressful for me to chose the ingredients that I don’t think I will have one ever again.

No picture today, I am blogging from work!!

Highlight of the day

2012-03-19T11:27:00.000-07:00

Thought that photoshop bitch represents both topics of this post : boring with highlights.

Anyway, blonds always attract more readers.

SO.

Since I am working hard and I am too tired to blog after work, I thought I would start talking about the highlights of my days.

Oops, I meant : since I don't have much to do at work but I am too lazy and tired to blog after work, I thought I would start talking quickly about the highlights of my days.

Because I am bored.

Miserable is bored bored bored.

Again!

Don't take me wrong, the contract job is cool and the people are nice. Even my team is nice, I am even lucky that they know more than me. So my job is about sitting, pretending, and earning the cash.

And waiting.

I am not sure what I am waiting for, the end of the contract maybe? One may think that I must have stuff to do, even occasionnaly. Yes occasionnally I do. I receive about 10 emails per day, so I send ten emails back.

And I do what I am paid for : I take care of the job of the woman I replace.

It is all about pretending that you have something to do in the end. We are deep in the fucking crisis and people hang on to their jobs like mussells on the shore. And like mussells they have nothing to do.

So I what do I do? Well I take time to think about my career, and I occasionally look for a job.

Let's face it, looking for a job is more fun than actually working. When you look for a job, you are always hopeful. You expect an outcome, you dream about a better situation for yourself. Grass is always green on the other side of the fence.

Last week went to two more interviews. One liked me and may see me again, another rejected me : I went for a job in digital pestilence and got rejected because I only ever worked in digital pestilence. Worst, the recruitment agent got offended when I told him that the hiring manager was a time waster.

fucker.

but I digress.

That was not a highlight of a day (maybe the lowlight of the week).

The highlight of an office worker's day - especially in middle management - is something small that happened during the day in the office, that brought joy.

Or at least that didn't bring stress, frustration, or irritation.

Don't you ever wonder what made your day at work? What is it that makes you think it is all worth it and justify you sitting around being either too busy - or like me, doing nothing/waiting?

Leave the money aside for one minute, what did you enjoy today??

A highlight can be : not falling asleep during a webex conference, eating an M&S brownie, or having your colleague bringing donuts Krispy Kreme and NOT feeling like vomitting on him thereafter.

Damn I can't think of any highlight today...

Contracting

2012-02-28T12:19:00.000-08:00

Ok, the picture has nothing to do with this post, but Jean, I had to tell you publicly : you are the best, je t'aime et vive la France!

But let’s talk about contracting shall we? It is much more fun than cinema - much more miserable too!

So if I was very miserable suffering politics in a big company full of moronistic wannabees, I am less miserable as a middle manager contractor – but there are still many things to be miserable about.

Indeed, being a contractor is interesting.

What is the difference between contracting and temping? On a daily base, there is none, the job is the same. But as a contractor you are often paid on a daily rate, so basically you make more dosh. Why? Because you are supposed to be a supplier to the ‘master’ company who hires you. So when you are a contractor, you have to have your own company, so you become your own CEO/COO. Alas you have to have an accountant, but since you make more dosh it doesn’t really matter.

Why do companies hire contractors? Here are the most common reasons:

- When an stupid middle manager hasn’t managed to secure an extra headcount for his team

- When someone ‘un replaceable’ gets pregger and fucks off for a year – this person is clever, she has managed to convince her boss that she is too busy not to be replaced.

- When a company is really huge and has extra dosh to spend ahead of a recessionary economy – in times of crisis the company will not fire but will not renew contracts

-When a company needs people who are already trained and ready to work hard from day one

What sort of job can be done by contractors?

Any really. But what is key is that the contractor must have balls and be ready and trained.

So middle management is a job that can be done by contractors. And senior managers love it because they don’t feel threatened by contractors. They even like to remind them that there is a difference between you and them – they are part of the family and you are not.

The company : a family – *feeling like puking now*

I guess it is a family for some people. Last night I watched a program on people who had worked for TFL (the London tube network) for 40 years...Their whole work life! I have never worked for a company for more than two year so 40 years for me is about 20 lives. But by the end of the program you could really feel a sense of family, all those people living a happy life together, serving (badly) passengers, ripping them off in harmony.

Ha. Maybe I should send my CV to TFL. Maybe I already have actually.

Ho well.

So when you are part of the family you get all the benefits. First benefit is.........the office pass!

As a contractor, the thing is often red. Permanent employees usually have a white pass – which leads to racial discrimination between permanent employees and ‘temporary employees’. So contractor, temp, whatever, it is branded on your waist, you are different!

Second benefit is the gym. Haaa the gym. So important for everyone, especially when it is free for the whiteys and not for the redoes.

Usually, as a contractor you can’t access the gym for free. You need to borrow the pass of someone. Basically you need to suffer the shame of begging a family member to loan it to you.

For the anecdote, at P&G, every day we receive a newsletter from HR, talking about some shit that happened in the company during the day. Mainly to cheer us up, since the company is actually restructuring.

Well today the newsletter mentioned that the staff was blessed by a huge amount of food leftover from meeting rooms (some probably couldn’t swallow the exit interview croissants). The writer said: ‘Thanks reception for telling everyone, however the sense of urgency in your email made us think that you were already stuffing your mouth eating it all, instead of controlling that temp staff don’t fraud on gym cards and making sure that calls get answered. We hope this is not the case.’

Wow.

This is what I thought : ‘what’s the matter with you HR twat? Are you jealous? At least I don’t have my ass on the firing line.... do you know that with my day salary I can buy myself at least 2 yearly subscriptions to your posh gyms EVERY DAY...

Well, he is HR so he must know.

Ok what else is not on our benefit list – pension and health care. Pension is a problem indeed, but private funds may have all gone burst in 30 years so I am not keen on investing anyway. Health care – well I don’t think private health care cures stress related diseases better than the NHS. At least with the NHS you get miserable staff, easier to relate to.

The company Christmas party is also source of frustration, when you can only be invited by a permanent employee and the permanent employee can only invite a couple of people ‘like you’....

Others issues are around motivation, the fact that you are not up for promotions (ever), or long term career development or invited to company meetings, or up for trainings...

But it is OK, payback is that you only do your hours, no need to find extra projects when there is nothing to do, no need to lick people’s ass, no need to sleep with anyone to get anywhere, not that I have tried that, probably why I am still a low life Miserable Middle Manager.

It happened!

2012-01-25T09:19:00.000-08:00

After about :
-500 CVs sent
-15 interviews
-300 double rejections (when you are rejected from a job you don't want)
-185 single rejections (when you are rejected from jobs you think you might want)
-5 'unknowns' (you have been to the interview but never heard back from the recruiter ever again)
-1 quickie (super fast interview)
-about 13 hypocriticals (when the hiring manager wants to make love to your face but later f*** you in the back)

eventually...

I have...

...found a job!

HA!!!

Ok, it is not the job of my dreams, it is a 6 months contract, but...IN YOUR FACE XANAX!

No more Philipe Focker, Gabino Ducon, Moobs - goooooooooooodbye!

New adventures are about to start : I will be managing a new team and prostituting myself for a company called : Pest&Gamble.

Stay tuned!

And just to finish my job search on a negative note (although it is not totally finished as I am still trying to find something better), here is what a rejection from Facebook looks like :

Hi Miserable,

Thanks for your interest in the Operations Middle Manager opportunity at Facebook.

Unfortunately, we won't be moving forward with your application at this time. However, as Facebook continues to grow, we encourage you to keep on the lookout for new opportunities posted to our careers site. We really appreciate your interest and look forward to connecting with you in the future.

Thanks!

Facebook Recruiting

I like the exclamation mark after the 'Thanks', like they are so enthusiastic in everything they do, even rejection. Thanks Facebook!

btw, check these out, hilarious :
http://iamtheclient.blogspot.com/
http://www.webagencyfail.com/

The quickie

2012-01-24T12:17:00.000-08:00

I had another fabulous job search encounter last Friday that I had never experienced before so I thought I would share it.

There are a couple of recruitment agencies that I trust and work with regularly....I mean there are a couple of mofos that are less bad that others....I call them the special agents - any other agent being a moronistic scumbag.

So last thrusday, a senior special agent calls me :

Him : Miserable, I have found Ze job for you, the job of your best and wildest dreams. I have no job spec but I think you are the perfect match for it, and the MD of the company, MediaPestus, is my best friend. I am having dinner with him in about 15 minutes, shall I mention your name?

Me : it sounds great but a bit junior, are you sure that the level will match my expectations?

Him : off course it is super senior honey bunny, and you will get the dosh you want, trust me

Me : ok, if the dosh are in, I am in

Comes Friday, special agent PA calls me, texts me : CALL ME NOW! So I call back :

Her : the MD of Mediapestus has heard about you, he said you have excellent references, he is super excited about you and he wants to meet you asap-before-eop i.e. 2PM, what do you think? And sorry to rush you, and don't worry if you can't prepare, he is aware of it, it will be very informal.

Me: hmpf - informal informal...in the end he will still make a call on the chat!

Her: don't worry babe, he had a boner as soon as he heard your name.

Me: Okay then, go on

Comes 2PM I am ready :

Super black mascara special long eyelashes effect : check
Short deep V cleavage dress : check
High heels : check
Red nail varnish : check
Gloss super glossy : check
Brains : not sure but check

MD guy comes, pretty cute, pretty young, pretty excited :

Him : Hello Mis, how you doing, I am soooooooooooooo happy to meet you, I hope you don't mind the rush and the mess, as soon as I heard of you I wanted to see you.
I want you, I want to make love to your CV and experience, I think we are a match from heaven, I am going to haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave you right now on the taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaable!!!!!!!!!!

Me : ok ok, that's great, when shall I start then?

Him : so, tell me about the market, the competitors, our technology, what clients do you think we should target, what strategy do you think we should adopt blaaaaaaaaaaah...........

Me : you perv

Him : I hope you don't mind, I have lined up 2 more interviews for you, our head of hisarse and our VP of hercunt. They are really nice, as soon as I hear their feedback I will get in touch with special agent.

Me : sure, I love threesome interviews, give me more

....

So, what was an informal chat became a full unpaid consultancy session. It is Tuesday now and I still haven't heard of them : quickie but long rejection!

Where is the job search police?!!

Reprioritize your life

2012-01-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

Ok, today I came accross another b-shit article called "No" is the New "Yes". Since I am heavily looking for a job I assumed that it was another article about handling rejection. But it was not, it was actually about being able to reject.

Read it, it is about time management, it tells about reprioritizing your life by saying no :
http://blogs.hbr.org/schwartz/2012/01/no-is-the-new-yes-four-practic.html

The dude who writes it, Tony, has a point. I have been practising the 'No' a lot on my boss Xanax and on our sales team. But it doesn't work.

It doesn't work because when you are a middle manager that's miserable, you have no power over your boss, and neither to your team or other teams who's boss are more 'senior' than you.

But what does Tony Schwartz think about the consequences of saying no to your boss or to other teams? Because let's face it, you spend most of your days doing your boss' job or working for your colleagues that are either 'busy' or uncapable. So how do you say no? Who's gonna do the shit if you don't?

Philip Focker says no to me all the time, he just gives me plain 'no-I-won't-do-it' in my face. He pretends he is busy when I know he is not. So I want to fire him.
That would be the consequence for him, being fired. He is only lucky to be friend with Xanax that's all.

So please Tony, write about how to say no and the consequences. And please don't quote Gandhi and don't finish your shit with Carpe Diem, not modern.

Also Tony, it is sooo true when you say : 'Saying no, thoughtfully, may be the most undervalued capacity of our times.' because most recruitment agents and hiring managers don't have the balls to actually contact you to reject you!

Daring desperation

2012-01-10T02:34:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since I haven’t blogged, apologies to fellow readers, after a nervous breakdown in December I took off to the south of France and Megeve, checked out expensive ski slopes and posh women wearing fur. It did good to MMM, I realized that in 2012, the Miserable Middle Manager’s community is not the most persecuted. Foxes are and I should be glad that the rich don’t wear MMMs skin.

So, after a couple of weeks of rest and meditation, MMM came back to hell. Let’s leave the ‘MMM is back in the office’ topic for another time, yesterday Monday I had my first interview of the year, happy new year MMM.

Ladies and gentlemen, watch out, I am serving this story hot, MMM first fuckery of the year coming now!

Ho well.

The job was top, working for a top guy, the CEO of RatzParalyze – position of business middle manager to deliver the global strategy. Sounded promising.

Obviously I got the interview through an agent, named John-Gerard. I saw his picture on Linkedin and he looks like an hybrid of Dexter and Sarah Jessica Parker, not his fault. Anyway, he calls me in the morning to prep me, behavioural interview with the CEO, then the CFO - I ask him if there is any case study (i.e.: how many pink bras will be sold in the UK in 2045...). Guy seems on acids: sure I’ll check and call you back, two minutes later he is back on the phone: don’t worry, all cool, nothing to worry about and certainly no case study.

Ouf.

So I spend my whole morning checking the company’s website, reading about how good they are at eradicating pestilence, how they kill pest humanly etc... Then I dig out all the books in my library that have keywords related to ‘strategy’ or ‘success’ in their title : ‘How to pull men in bars: a woman’s successful strategy’, ‘Successful cooking’, ‘Leveraging your inside edge successfully’, ‘Successfully overcoming period pain’ etc...I have so many academic books on success, it is unbelievable.

So comes 3PM I am ready to rock, sitting at the reception of RatzParalyze with a glass of water. (What do you want to drink asked the receptionist : don't you have a Ricard by any chance?). Thanks to Bare Mineral make up, it doesn’t show on my face that I feel like vomiting of stress on the desk of the receptionist : she looks like a bitch and the carpet is olive green, yukk.

3:15, CEO guy arrives, his name is Dick, I mean Richard. OK looking, middle aged, very, very quiet....no word until we sit down in front of each other, he eventually asks where I live, like he couldn’t come up with a better ice breaker...

Thing is, he doesn’t give a shit where I live, he has a surprise for me : ‘OK, I believe the recruitment agent has told you about our standard procedure, first a case study then a behavioural chat with my colleague’. He may as well have said : ‘OK, the agent has fucked you again, he is the brother of Philippe Focker and he wants you to fail right now, I have worked for Accenture for 20 years and I am used to set candidates up for failure, so they never forget my rat face’.

Obviously I have the email of the agent which shows no mention of a case study, but at this stage it is too late, so I jump into the case study.

I am bad at case studies. I really can’t think on my feet, my brain needs time to process shit and my mind usually goes blank when I am asked to work out numbers.

But to be honest, I am so tired of interviews that something amazing happened as soon as he told me about the case study (you work for Bill Gates, he wants to create Microsoft Cola and he has a meeting with Tesco on Thursday in order to negotiate an exclusive deal with Tesco. Advise him on the product strategy), indeed, as soon as I heard ‘case study’, all the stress went away!

It seemed that my brain had suddenly given up stressing, I had failed again! So I did all the calculations I could (all wrong obviously) and after we finished (badly), I started glaring at Dick, checking each of the wrinkles on his face. He didn’t have many questions, and he asked me if I had any. So what happened then is what I call Daring Desperation : in a desperate last attempt to get the job you dare becoming yourself again.

So I questioned the stupid current strategy of RatzParalize, why paralyze pestilence when you can kill it instantly? I told him that if he was hiring only on the results of a case study he would be ruling out potentially great candidates like me. As a result, he became a bit defensive and he almost ran out of the room, leaving me behind, waiting for my next bully. But I know that he will remember me.

Then I considered leaving the room, I thought that even doing the Asda Sales would probably be a better use of my time. But then a very nice gentleman arrived, and asked me how I did with his colleague, said that if I did badly he wouldn’t be surprised, that Dick was not that good at explaining case studies and that they were desperate to find someone for the position which had been left vacant for a long time.

SO.

Will I get the job or have I, again, wasted my time?

I have come to realise that having an MBA had another inconvenience : recruiters think that you can work out numerical shit very quickly, so they fetch stupid case studies in books, they learn the answers by heart and judge you if you don’t answer right straight away.

Truth is most MBA graduates don’t even know how much is 7x8.

Happy 2012 everyone!

Miserable Middle Manager goes Xmas shopping

2011-12-16T08:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went Xmas shopping in Westfield and it was an horrible experience. Over heated shops were all displaying the same expensive shit and my wallet was feeling lighter and lighter as I was progressing.

I think this experience resulted in me having another horrible nightmare:

I was back at Westfield, in the Superdry store, trying to find some not-too-tight-t-shirts for my wild teenage cousin. It felt super hot, I was hyperventilating, then suddenly my eyes come across a vision : Robert Kanayellow, another ex colleague bully like Moobs is in the shop, his wet chicken face and rat eyes looking at me curiously – I hadn’t seen this abuser for 10 years, you bet he was surprised!

Suddenly I am short of breath, super loud music kills my ears, vision gets blurry, panic attack, I fall on the clothe rake, suddenly I Kanayellow is on me, his face on my face, what’s happening? Face rape??? No he is doing mouth to mouth eeeeekkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Christmas shopping everyone.

The Tree of Eternal Goodness

2011-12-15T03:06:00.000-08:00

This morning I found myself in my kitchen dozing over my coffee, reflecting on Xmas, on the office day ahead, the dog vet appointment next week, and wondering if I was another victim of Chronic fatigue syndrome (myalgic encephalomyelitis - ME) or just a victim of my poor eating habits. Maybe I could call in sick and say I got struck by ME?

But then my eyes came across my hair brush. What is an hair brush doing in a kitchen you will ask. Well, I don’t know, it seems that things have a life on their own in my flat, especially keys. Anyway, I bought the brush last year at TK Maxx for £5, it is big, flat and useful, it is black with some stuff scribbled at the back. I never reflected on what was written on it, I don’t really care, the brush is cheap and useful. But this morning I read it again, it says: ‘Life is an endless struggle, full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hair stylist you like.’

What a fuck came through the mind of the Corioliss (the brand of the brush) designer?

This brought me back to the office, 3 years ago, when I was working as a Miserable Middle Manager contractor for a few months for another pestilent company.

Another guy, Jasper, had been hired as the same time as me, to be another middle manager : the sales manager - 10 direct reports, off course he was super motivated. He had been out of work for a few months and no one really knew what he had done before, not until he started being a dick, then everyone Googled him and asked around, finding out that he was just another loser with a big mouth.

But Jasper wasn’t lacking ideas, I have to give him that. He was an old style sales guy, one of those fuckers like Moobs, who sell encyclopedia door to door, and he was applying old style methods to encourage his sales team to make more money.

One of his idea was ‘the tree of eternal goodness’.

We had this dull plant in the office, you know the office plant that struggles to survive and that office managers put in empty corners, to remind you that nature exists somewhere, far away from your desk and fluorescent lights...Well, one day, he moved the plant, put it in the center of the open office and stuck small envelopes on its leaves.

Everyone wondered what the hell this was about, but he wouldn’t say. Then on Friday at 5PM, he pulled out a little bell, shaked it, and called everyone to gather around the tree.

Guys, it is Friday 5PM and I want to introduce the concept of the tree of eternal goodness. As you can see, in each of these envelopes there is a poem and a present. The principle is that you guys go sell as much as you can during the week, and on Friday the best sales person will be rewarded by an envelope which contains a poem and a nice present.

This week the best sales person has been : Arthur!!! Please go, pick your envelope and read us the poem!!!

Obviously Arthur became really pale, then he walked through the gathered crowd, picked an envelope, opened it, looked at the crowd : Do I have to read that to everyone?

Yes you have been the best man in the building this week!

Then he read :

‘Life is an endless struggle, full of frustrations and challenges, but this week, you nailed it, congratulations, you won a bottle of sauvignon, for a nice celebration. Xx Jasper.’

...

Jasper lasted 6 months in the company, during that time, about 30 envelopes were opened, about 10 people were shamed in public. He then left the company to join the Conservative party and run as an MP in his council.

Good luck Jasper.

Why Miserable Middle Manager is fuming today

2011-12-06T08:09:00.000-08:00

I am fuming today, and I am fuming BIG.

You have now been reading my posts for a couple of months and you might think: "Well, MMM is actually fuming all the time, what is it special about today's fuming?". My fuming might not deserve a post, but today I need my loyal readers to listen to me. I need Ekaterina in Russia, Yorgos in Greece and Awowe in France to show me their empathy, I just need to feel you are there when I need you.

Where should I start? As you know, I have been catapulting CVs into the big black hole for a couple of months. I aim good as 99% of them get into the black hole and never come out again. During this time I have also had several off-on/love-hate relationships with HH (headhunters). No Kathy, don't get confused, HHs are not as idyllic as OBFs, they are an inferior species and don't deserve any respect.

This week my colleague Iman met this "a-m-a-z-i-n-g" HH and called me to share his experience: " Hey, MMM, you won't believe it but I have found the perfect man for us". Iman is not gay, he meant the perfect HH, not the perfect man. At first I did not want to listen to Iman's advice on having a date with HH, but as my rejection rate had been falling during the last two weeks as a result of having stopped my catapulting activities, I though it would be a good idea to follow a friend's advice and to give a bust to my rejection rate. I was (kind of) impressed when HH asked me questions about my MBA and seemed to know what an MBA was (the illiteracy rates in the HH industry are higher than those of adolescents in third world country- see The Economist, July2011 issue" ). Vate Ferfoutr seemed to be ready to invest a lot of time on me and I thought I had maybe finally found light at the end of the tunnel.

As he requested, I provided him a copy of the following information:
- Driving License
- Passport
- Security Clearance
- Birth Certificate
- Working VISA
- Green Card
- Recommendation letter from my previous manager
- Recommendation letter from HR
- Credit check
- PHD thesis
- MBA thesis
- My university transcripts
- Two utility bills (electricity bill & council tax) as proof of address
- Driving records showing I knew how to drive on the left of the road
- Height and weight (I had to give him this info in metric system as I cannot convert into feet or stones)

Anyway,

After spending two full days looking for all this information in my big fat files, I got my killer heels on (killer because they really kill me, I cannot walk for a week after wearing my heels, I got used to wearing the trainers we are obliged to wear at KonardKingdom) and headed up to his office. It was a good day until I got in the reception and told Onglede Chav, the receptionist, I was there to see Vate Ferfoutr.

25 minutes later I was still waiting for Vate Ferfoutr at the reception and decided to go and have one of the best muffins in London to forget that traumatic experience.

How long would you readers wait before leaving your date behind?

Rewarding employees

2011-12-06T04:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday night, as I was browsing through my stuff at home, in the hope of finding my car insurance policy, I came accross some fucked up shit!

I had completely blocked this fabulous episode of my life, when I was working for this amazing radio called Pestilence FM. At that time, I had a sub team who was selling radio air time to local care homes and businesses in need to advertise their products to OCD radio listeners in need of knowing all about pest control.

So my team had sales targets!

...and received awards.

One day my boss, the Marketing and Sales director decided to distribute some awards to reward us for our hard work. However, he decided that my contribution to the success of the commercial team was minor, as I was not selling, but managing.

So by the end of the quarter, we had a nice gathering in the local pub and surprise surprise, between the main course and the dessert, Jingo (that was his surname, can't remember why), well Jingo decides to shut us up and to distribute awards to the team!

He was a good man and everyone had an award : award of the best sales person, award of the most beautiful legs, award of the best dressed sales person, award of the best sales pitch, award of the one who won most awards, award for most amount of cleavage wore!

Then he looked at me with pity and said : and the Award for most amount of awards not won goes to..............MISERABLE!!!!!

Fond memory.

How was your weekend?

2011-12-05T02:34:00.000-08:00

Today is Monday and Mondays are always a pain in Miserable Middle Manager’s life. In everybody’s life I guess. The world suffers on Mondays!

Nothing new here you will say, but then I thought I would describe my early Monday morning. See if I can beat you in the race for the worst first few hours of the day.

7:30: Iphone alarm clock goes off, the vegetables I had on Sunday night kick in, I have some energy (30% batteries left my brain tells me). My hand reach the Iphone to shut it up and put the news on. I doze another 15 minutes listening to the misery in the UK, the lodger who’s killed two women, rioters and police relationship, boring stuff....what’s become of Amanda Fox, has it rained in Somalia I wonder?

I stop wondering and look at my work mail (first mistake of the day) – a care home who wants to withdraw from its contract, Mark Oobs asking me to come earlier to take care of it. I think about my best friend Stress, nooo it is too early don’t come over, I leave the phone alone.

8:00: reach the bathroom, crawl to the shower. Hit my head on the wall – did I tell you I can’t stand up in my shower? It’s been built under the outside stairs. Anyway, doesn’t help the Monday mood – what’s gonna happen to Miserable Middle Manager this week?

8:15: the dog still hasn’t moved from his lamb sheep skin (called the moumoute, the thing was bought in Ikea when it was all soft and smooth, but the dog trashed it to make it his own). He looks like a snake on the moumoute, only his tail moves...every morning is the same, he hopes that I will leave him alone, that I won’t put him in his huge garden because it is cold outside. For him I am the monster that drags him out, but come on, it was the garden or the nice shower, I chose the shower to beat the ungrateful dog’s depression!

So every morning I take him for walks, 10 minutes around the block. He analyses pee, I call him the Piss Analyst, I have a theory: he is secretly part of the PSI squad (Pee Scene Investigation). He analyses every pee and covers it with his own to hide the smell of dog criminals who try to overtake the neighbourhood. I know that he is a hero, although he is a miserable OCD lad.

Anyway! Off we go, once the pee has been all analysed, he ends up in the garden for the day.

8:25: put some make up on, eat a toast and drink half a litter of coffee – I will talk about the diet of Miserable Middle Manager another time, but in a nutshell : I am hooked to coffee but I shouldn’t, I should eat fruits, veggies and less carbs, but I can’t. Basically I eat fuck all at lunch from Monday to Friday, because of the stress that blocks my stomach.

8:30: am on my way to the tube, recharge the Oyster, signal failure on the Jubilee Line, train eventually comes, my cold body crashes against 50 other, the sardine is in the can, ready to get everyone’s disease and be pushed in the ribs by at least one person.

8:55: am off the tube, phone beeps: Gabino Ducon’s boiler has broke, he must wait for the boiler repair man to come by between 9 and 2PM, so he asks if he can work from home. I reply yes good luck take care, at least he is not off sick, so I won’t have to cover for him, and I don’t have to smell his presence in the office.

8:56: Philippe Focker text me he is late, bus tyre exploded on the way, won’t be able to attend the 9:30 meeting, off course.

9:00: reach KonarKingdom Ltd – my friend Stress welcomes me at the gate, he is my best friend and will shadow me the whole week. I guess without Stress I would feel lonely.

So there I am in the office, 20 desks on open space, 10 for my department, 5 for my team, all empty.

9:15: computer on, (yeah it takes on average 15 minute for the shit to be fully functional – IT keeps rebuilding it, it seems that they don’t have the budget to buy a new one, so they would rather spend time on it themselves).

So people start arriving between 9:30 and 10:00, I always try to force Philippe Focker to go to the 9:30 meeting, but he never does, he always has a good excuse, he never arrives before 9:40. But apparently it is ok, according to HR, the company is flexible on office hours, as long as we do 8H per day. According to them, if I start being strict on time keeping, employees will take revenge. I don’t really understand, between 9:00 and 10:00am, clients call, colleagues ask questions, meetings happen etc etc...so what, if nobody is in, clients will wait?

Ho well.

10:30: most people have arrived, I say hello to everyone, not everyone answers, I keep hearing colleagues saying ‘how was your weekend’, no one asks me how was mine. I guess I am the Miserable Middle Manager, not the office friend, people keep their distance.

I have tried to work on my body language (NLP experts told me to), but as I am always the first in the office, body language is only limited to my face. So I catch people and tell them an enthusiastic ‘Hello, how is it going!’ distorting my face in an extatic and happy shape.

I try to hide my miserableness obviously.

But it doesn’t work.

Very few answer.

Nobody ask me how my weekend was.

But if someone had I would have said the below:

On Friday night, I left work late and fuming because of Philippe ‘Busy’ Focker. I went straight to the pub to meet my friends, drank as much alcohol as my body could take and vomited on my BF car. I was quite hangover on Saturday morning, spent my whole day in front of the TV, watching all the Come dine with me and Signed by Katie price trash TV available, accompanied by the dog on his moumoute (the moumoute is really screwed to the dog now that I think about it). Then on Sunday I went to the North Acton scrapyard (hell on earth) to dump the pieces of an old shed that had been living in the garden for too long.

And each time I threw a piece of trash in the skip, I would call it a name : YOURS!

Today is Ninja day, happy Ninja day!

Your feedback matters

2011-12-02T11:01:00.000-08:00

This week Miserable Middle Manager had a few questions and comments from fellow readers, I picked a few that I though were interesting :

Question from Barbara Colmarbreast from France :

If I am a woman and my OBF is a woman, does it mean that I may be a lesbian?

Barbara, having someone you admire and trust in your company doesn’t have anything to do with sex, so don’t worry about your sexual orientation at this stage. Try to develop and capitalize on this relationship, use your OGF as a mentor and model, and ask her for advice and feedback if you can.

Comment from Irina Benlili from Canada :

Like you Miserable, I have had an interview for a company whose office was only accessible by car and located by a motorway. I had no car and the hiring manager told me to come by train and bus. I took the bus but ended up on the other side of the motorway, unable to cross. Exhausted and late, I took courage, called the hiring manager and asked them to send a cab. Which they did! It was a matter of life and death, and I got through the second interview!

All I would say is bravo Irina, having your hiring manager do stuff for you although you haven't even been interviewed you is a massive challenge, but you nailed it.

I also received an anonymous hate mail, possibly from an ex employer :

Middle M,

What’s wrong with shoving a huge amount of crisps in your mouth during team meetings? You f*** anorexic b***, if you wore skirts and deep V dress more often, you would be a bigger fish, not some king of controlling mediocer human being!

BTW, remember the big spread shits I used to make you do for the Friday management report? I never used read them, because there was no Friday management report! I made it up to f*** your head up!

TDC

Thank you for your comments and questions, they always cheer me up, please send more to miserablemiddlemanager@gmail.com

How to become a BIG fish

2011-12-02T08:01:00.000-08:00

Miserable Middle Manager has never been a big fish. She has instead always been a size 0 - Well, except during the year she spent in New York clubbing-non-stop and eating in the trendiest restaurants in town with her oldest friend Valentina. Only three months after arriving to the big Apply with a one way ticket, a tourist visa, an empty wallet and a suitcase full of saucisson, she could not zip her trousers anymore. That was her heyday: she was a size 2. For a year she enjoyed the glory of being a big fish but her joy ended when the US immigration department announced her that, unfortunately (it does not cost to be polite when you kill someone), she had not won the green card lottery and had to immediately leave the country or she would face a free trip to Guantanamo. She would go back to size 0 in Guantamo, so decided to take the first flight back to the the old continent.

Within two months without Valentina, she was again a small fish. How could she become a big fish again?

For the years to follow, Miserable Middle Manager worked very hard to become a big fish again: gained a masters degree from a reputable university, became fluent in 4 languages, travelled the world to learn about different cultures, moved country 3 times, city 6 times, flat 9 times and met many big fishes along the way. Miserable Middle Manager was on the right track. She worked hard and cleaned all the shit that her managers threw to her: under performers, über performers, sexual harassers, bullies, slackers, transvestites and muslims in disguise ( she never saw their face). She just needed a model to follow, someone who would lead her to success.

A synchronicity moment happened when she met Roundy Tête de Carrote, one of her most influent clients at Konarkingdom Ltd. Roundy definitively knew the secret. How could someone who barely knew his grammar, never went to uni, spoke no foreign languages and called colleagues his 'mates' became a 'member of the senior management team'? How could someone holidaying in a caravan parked on an English beach could be a director? Was his yellowy moustache the secret of managing team of 62 fucked up civil servants-alike? Or was his call-it-casual dressing style that combined a Primark suit under a Vodafone jumper? I had to find out, Roundy definitively knew how the secret to become a big fish.

It was time for the weekly management meeting and my own agenda had just one item: to find out the secret. That was an opportunity I could not miss. Without staring at him, I still managed to read his defensive body language and to carefully listen to all the crap coming out of his mouth while trying to keep my eyes out of the two middle buttons of his shirt that were trying to get propelled due to an excess of belly fat. The deception could not have been bigger. Roundy did not show any minimal sign of innate leadership, emotional intelligence, proper education of even geeky slang. To my surprise I found out that Roundy was definitively a big fat empty soul, and that becoming a big fish did not have anything to do with intelligence, emotions, experience, leadership, social skills or finance knowledge. I had been looking at the wrong place.

Does Mr Tête de Carrote's stellar growth secret reside in the little white and blue Tesco bag he pulls out of his dirty backpack at noon every day?

How many pink bras are sold in the UK each year?

2011-12-01T14:50:00.000-08:00

You are probably thinking that having to deal with unbalanced employees on a daily basis has finally taken its toll, that Miserable Middle Manager has finally lost it and is getting into the porn industry in her last attempt to find a meaning in her life. Although it is something she is seriously considering, she is not getting into that (YET).

Miserable Middle Manager could not actually recover from her failure to recruit Carlos and have an office romance with him and she is going to gore interviews. Yep, you heard well, gore interviews.

If you asked an HR recruiting guru what interview styles can be used to recruit team members, they would probably mentioned the same ones that wikipedia lists (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interview): behavioral interviews, cognitive interviews, investigative interviews, multiple-mini interviews (I agree, what the hell is that? who would want to do a multiple-mini interview?!), informational interviews, ... an so on. Basically any interview differing form the classical "what are you strengths?" "what are your weaknesses?" "where do you see yourself in 5 years?" "why did you leave your last job?" would deserve to have a name.

Today I experienced a new type of interview: The Gore Interview. Yep, gore. I was going for a middle management role in a mediocre company in Slough which, from the beginning, was a potential double-rejection when, to my surprise, the guy asked me the following after introducing himself:

MF - "I hope you don't mind, I have thought that doing a case study based interview will be the best option for you to shine and to demonstrate all the skills you have learned during your MBA".

MMM - "What the hell? Of course I mind! It has taken me 2 hours to arrive to this shitty office which is located in the middle of a motorway, I think the role you are recruiting for is shit and underpaid, and after checking you in LinkedIn I found out you did not even get your A levels. So, who the hell you think you are to test me with a case study, motherfucker?"

MMM - I was not brave enough to say that, so I continued like: " Sure, not problem at all, that is what I have been doing during the last couple of years and I ended up liking them. They are like a game to me, I miss them so much that I just keep doing them in my spare time"

MF - Great, I knew you would not mind. So this is the question: "How many pink bras are sold in the UK ever year?" You have 20 minutes and I need to understand your thinking process, so think out loud!

MMM - You are not only a motherfucker working in a shit-hole office but you are also a pervert. Do you also wear pink thongs when you dress as a woman?

MMM - Easy peasy! That is clearly a market sizing question, I have previously sized the number of mattresses in France and the number of girls getting drunk on a Friday night in London, so bras should be straight forward as I know that market well.

I am going to start by stating some assumptions. I will assume that the population of the UK is 60 million and that life expectancy is 80 years, and that there are the same number of people in each age group (meaning same number of 15-year-olds than 78-year-olds. So if you divide 60 million by 80, you get 750.000 people per age group. I will assume a 50/50 split between men and women.

Girls between 0 - 6 don't have boobs yet, and 20% boys start showing transvestite tendencies by the age of 5. By the time they are 20, those 20% have already came out of the closet and have been joined by an extra 15% who were hiding their sexuality due to an extremely conservative education.

I will also assume that an 8% of women in all age ranges never get to use bras because there is not much to hold or because their silicon operations were too far and they cannot find size 48DD (not even in M&S, the biggest bra seller in the UK). In addition I will also assume that only chavs like pink bras, so that will be 60% of the population. I will also assume that each person buys one bra per year and that all men buying bras go for the pinky option.

If I add those together:

375000 men and 375000 women per age group

Female
0 to 6 --> 0
6 to 80 --> 375000 * 0.92 * 0.60 * (80-6) --> 15,318,000

Male
0 to 4 --> 0
5 to 20 --> 0.2 * 15 * 375000 --> 1,125,000
21 to 80 --> 0.35 * 59 * 375000 --> 7,743,750

Total: 15,318,000 + 1,125,000 + 7,743,750 = 24,186,750 pink bras sold in the UK every year.

Was that the response you were after, PERVERT?

Office toilet humour

2011-12-01T05:37:00.000-08:00

Shit happens.

Yeah, real shit, like shitting at the workplace, in the office toilet.

I must stress that the story contained in this post really happened and I appologize if the story feels a bit below the belt.

So yesterday morning, I go to work like every day, things go OK until 11am, no aggression nothing, Xmas mood, Santa is playing guitar on the radio, clients are as unhappy by the service as ever, things get almost boring.

Then something incredible happens.

I receive an email from the office manager; email addressed only to female colleagues and entitled: Ladies toilets.

Hi ladies,

It has been brought to my attention that the toilets are again in a very poor state. Please be so kind to leave the toilet as you expect to use them.

Many thanks,

Veronica

So I think, OK, these toilets stink, but maybe the office manager should tell the cleaning lady to start cleaning, instead of just replacing the toilet paper.

Then another email arrives in my inbox.

Ladies,

Thanks Veronica. Ladies, can you please refrain yourself from emptying your bowel at work. The office is a place to work, not to shit. As the toilets are shared amongst all of us, it would be good if everyone could do their business at home and not in the office.

Thanks for your understanding; it is not the first time the issue has been brought up, myself and the other girl from Essex agree that putting make up on while someone is shitting nearby is not ideal and has an impact on our moral, hence decreasing our chances of pulling men in bars.

Kind regards.

Janet

Another comes!

Janet,

I shit at work, because when you gotta go, you gotta go. It is not your place to manage my bowel activity. You are so plain and transparent that you already look like a fart anyway. Don’t bother us with your make up. You were born ugly, not my ass fault.

Gigi

Sudden shout in the office, Janet calls Gigi a shithead, Gigi shouts back some C word, this happens in less than a second and everything goes back to normal.

Then at lunch time, I discover that there are several clans/shit political parties in the office :

Extreme left party/clan : Shit at work, only shit at work because don’t want they home toilets to stink
Left : when you gotta go you gotta go
Center: don’t give a shit
Right: would rather not shit in the office, but accept that other may need to
Extreme right: never ever shit in the office, and don’t accept than anyone does.

So what party am I? I guess I am left, some king of social shitter.

Have you ever asked yourself the question? It had never occurred to me that I would ever do.

No, non, nein, niet

2011-11-25T07:51:00.000-08:00

Miserable Middle Manager must apologize to her fellow readers, she has been really overworked this week and has been really busy making huge progress on her search for the perfect Middle Managerial role.

So today, Miserable Middle Manager wants to touch base on the subject of job rejection as it seems that there is no definition in wikkipedia for the matter.

So here it is :

Rejection occurs when an individual is deliberately excluded from a job. It occurs frequently after CV application (black hole effect), but also occur after a first, second, third, fourth, fifth or sixth interview.

Causes for rejection after CV application, if we ignore the black hole effect, is totally unknown and unexplained but feedback usually consists in the below :

Dear Candidate

Thank you for responding to our advertisement; should you meet our client's criteria we will contact you within 72 hours to discuss your circumstances and the appropriate way to progress. Please note that if you do not hear back from us it is because your application has not been successful in this instance, however we will keep your details and endeavour to find a suitable role for you in the near future. Your details will not be forwarded to any third parties without your express permission.

Should you have any questions regarding your application please contact the relevant consultant directly and they will respond within 24 hours, where possible.

Once again, thank you for you application.

You will note the typo on the last sentence.

Other feedback comes along those lines, a bit nicer to read:

We have checked the salary for the position that you applied for and unfortunately it is considerably less than what your expectations are.

But my favourite feedback remains the most traditional:

Dear Miserable,
Thank you for your interest in the above position. Unfortunately, I have received applications from candidates whose experience more closely match my client's specific requirements. I will not, therefore, be progressing your application on this occasion.

You will note the unfortunately – it seems that Miserable Middle Manager is very unfortunate these days.

We have touched on rejection after CV application, but rejection becomes even more interesting when you receive an email confirming that your CV has been received, 4 weeks after it has been sent. Meaning that you haven’t been rejected yet, but the system is still digesting your CV, or maybe the black hole has just vomited your CV.

Here is an example:

Dear Miserable,

Thank you for your interest in the Middle Manager position vacancy with Rentokill.

We can confirm that we’ve received your CV and will now review your application.

We will contact you in due course to discuss the next steps should your profile match this vacancy.

Kind Regards

The HR team

Then, sometimes, Miserable Middle Manager gets lucky and is invited to an interview!

Rejection becomes harder, I must now discuss the concepts of single rejection or double rejection.

Single rejection occurs when you have been rejected from a company that you like. In these occasions (they are numerous) the brain really suffers loss, imagining your body and soul running towards a great beautiful light when suddenly some fucking sniper shoots you in the knee. You did your best but will never reach the light. Damn.

Double rejection occurs when you have been rejected from a company that you don’t like. In these, occasions (the longer you look for a job and the more frequent these occasions) the brain suffers frustration, not loss. Because yes, it is frustrating to be rejected by a sad fucker who runs a shit business and who hasn’t seen that you were his only hope at getting any better. The brain then produces hormones of hatred and your confidence suffers, hence making you even bitterer.

Obviously worst cases of rejection happen as the interview process goes further.

I will not touch on rejections that happen as a result of a math or logic test, just thinking about these make me feel like vomiting in my mouth and I am not ready to talk about them just yet.

As it stands, rejection is a trauma that needs to be treated by ingesting a huge amount of chocolate.

I believe that HR managers and Recruitment agencies have close links with companies such as Cadbury or Kraft and contribute to the mass consumption of chocolates, sweets and for some like me, saussisson.

Happy Friday!

Sick leave

2011-11-15T06:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Miserable Middle Manager was off sick, yes, really sick...and she didn’t manage to go to work. She pulled a sicky!

It was none of the office worker’s most frequent disease such as:
- Tummy ach
- Period pain
- Food poisoning
-Dodgy stomach
-Shingles
-Bicycle crash
-Duvet day
-Laziness
-Lost voice (inability to speak to line manager)
-Sore fingers (inability to call, email line manager)
-Sore eyes (inability to call, email line manager)
-Man flu
-~~Masturbation~~

It was none of this, it was a illness with a proper name, called flu, or influenza- a viral disease that struck Miserable Middle Manager by surprise and at weekend.

Yes, sicknesses sometimes happen to be real!

Friday trash

2011-11-11T06:08:00.000-08:00

Today is Friday November 11^th, the perfect day to trash a colleague in honour of the soldiers who fought hard for our peace and freedom.

The colleague of my choice today is a guy called Oobs, Mark Oobs – Or M-Double-o-bs.

Moobs.

Reason why Miserable Middle Manager is spending a couple of minutes to talk about Moobs is not because he deserves to be talked about, but because Moobs ‘ time at Konarkingdom ltd is dedicated to aggressing his colleagues permanently. Without Moobs, the blog would probably not exist, but peace would.

M-Double-o-bs was born in Essex in 1973, from an English mother and an unknown father. Actually father was known, Swiss guy called Patrick Juvet and 1973 Eurovision contestant who ended up at the 12^th place with the song : "Je vais me marier, Marie", I'm getting married, Marie. Unfortunately Moobs mother wasn’t called Marie and Patrick Juvet was a sick fuck (same father same son), who dumped Moobs mother to go with Marie and didn’t recognize Moobs.

Moobs was an ugly baby, (harassers are often ugly fuckers), birth was painful for his mother Ginette, who then suffered baby blues for years. She tried to love him but barely managed, so she saved enough on benefits to send him away to a bad private school.

He left school at 16 to sell encyclopaedias door to door and managed to make a living crooking retired feebleminded. He became fat and alcoholic at 18 but found love at 25 with a Kevina, a Swiss colleague from work, who shared his love for fish and chips, JD on the rock and had an admiration for Patrick Juvet.

After half a decade with Kevina, girl decided to break up the relationship, as a result of a week in rehab where she became sober for the first time in ages (Specsaver effect I would say).

The break up broke Moobs’ heart, yes he had a heart. But it made him bitter. Seems that even bad persons have hearts.

One day at lunch time when he was having another JD on the rock alone, he met Jamie la Ceinture and Petra Xanax who ordered the same drink. They started chatting and connected right away, Jamie La Ceinture told him he was recruiting for a sale manager position for Konarkingdom ltd- after a few more JD on the rock, Moobs was hired on the spot.

That’s how Moobs career started at Konarkingdom ltd – doing Pest control assessment in Care homes- Konarkingdom ltd is the leader in pestilence prevention!

Straight away Moobs bonded with Philippe Focker and a team of ugly maniacs was born.

Moobs didn’t get more handsome has he grew older but he grew bitterer and slimmer. Living on a diet of coke and coffee, to sell more and pull more women.

Moobs, this post is for you.

With love from Miserable Middle Manager.

Office date

2011-11-10T03:31:00.000-08:00

Wanna feel good about yourself? Run interviews.

Yesterday, it was Carlos turn to be invited for an interview with Miserable Middle Manager. Indeed, this candidate got shortlisted for the position of Senior Marketing Manager, in other words, Data Entry Assistant to Gabino Ducon, my other team member who’s often off sick due to serious flatulence.

He came highly recommended through a recruitment agency, so I was quite excited to meet him. I put make up on and I was prepared to give him one of the most hypocritical pitches of my career, to make him want to work for me (and Gabino).

I was singing in my head :

Faith: don't let your love turn to hate
Right now we got to keep the faith
Keep the faith
Keep the faith
Lord we got to keep the faith

So.

5:30PM - the sound of a powerful motorbike engine roars on the company’s parking lot, tires squeal, an enormous machine carrying a leathered man parks in the visitor section. Everyone in the office turn their head to the window. Phones stop ringing; fingers stop typing; ~~Focker stops masturbating~~.

Man jumps off the machine, pulls the helmet out, shakes his mid length brown hair off his face. At the same time the 20 employees of Konarkingdom Ltd working in the ground floor watch the scene in amazement, mouth open.

Man walks to reception, he is no more in the vision, show is over, phone rings again, fingers are back on the keyboard, ~~Focker is back to masturbating~~.

My phone rings, it is Pamela the receptionist: Miserable Middle Manager, there is an angel looking man called Carlos waiting for you at reception, he says he has an interview with you. You better come quickly, I see Xanax looking at him curiously. I am on my way to remind her about her meeting with Jamie La Ceinture now, but you should come fast, she sometimes get out of control around men.

Pamela is my friend, she manages the meeting rooms and I am the only one in the company who reserves in advance (Always be friend with Receptionists and PAs, they have a lot of power).

So I run.

I am always requested to hire handsome candidates so this is my opportunity to shine. Surely if I fulfil my colleagues desires, they will offer me to come with them daily to the Sainsbury’s meal deal lunch run. Crazy thoughts run through my head : I am at the pub on Friday, having a beer with my co-workers.
I bring Carlos to the meeting room, offer him a ~~beer~~ glass of water – small talk : did you find us OK? Oh yes I live next door, it was easy, I love your office.

Amazing I think, the guy has already managed to lie to me twice in less than a minute, he will be a perfect fit to the team.

We sit in front of each other, the temperature of the room is high although the aircond is still on and it is November, the interview starts:

Me : So, tell me about yourself, what you have done in the past, please run me through your CV and various experiences.

Him : I started my career blablah......

This is my opportunity to look at him and assess if physically I can bear his ass sitting next to me 8 hours per day, 5 days a week. I have already read his CV, no need to listen the blah, I know that only 70% of what he says is made up. Like when he says that in 2009, as marketing assistant, he’s managed 3 people. But I have no interest in the content, what I care about is to be able to bear him and to make sure he does the job so he and I can look good.

What is weird about Gianvitto, is that he looks at me right in the eyes and he shakes his eyelashes. You know the butterfly effect? One always come across a boyfriend who does that, fucking irritating.

Me: what do you like about the job description?
Him: I love the company (eyelashe effect 1), Konarkingdom Ltd is huge in the UK(eyelashe effect 2), I love the brand(eyelashe effect 3), it would be an honor to contribute to the enhancement of the brand (eyelashe effect 4).

I feel dizzy now.

Me: sorry, I must have confused you, what do you like about the job description?
Him: I like the brand and the services, I have been a client of Konarkingdom Ltd for 4 years now.
Me : ok, forget about the brand, what about the about the job description
Him : ....
Me : ...
Him : it sounds like an easy question, I must be able to answer
Me: ...
Him : (eyelash effect)
Me: have you read the job description?
Him: off course
Me: ok, what did you like about it?
Him: I enjoy marketing
Me: thank you Carlos, it was a pleasure to meet you, I will give my feedback to the recruitment agency. Goodbye and have a safe journey back.
Him: well before I leave, I just wanted to say that I am not sure if I want to work for Konarkingdom Ltd. I am a bit worried that the parking lot is not secure and I don’t envision leaving my motorbike alone all day under threat of being stollen.
Me: ....

I am not exaggerating.

The Dark Passenger

2011-11-09T02:01:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up in shock, I had dreamt about Philip Focker.

In the dream I was at work, and Focker, this guy in my team, was refusing to send me his timesheet, pretending he was busy*.

*Define busy: busy is the partial or complete wasting away of a part of the body. [...] Causes of hands and fingers atrophy include masturbation and sucking asses in the workplace.

Source: the internet.

Ok, so the guy is busy, it is a terrible medical condition, I understand. But yet, I need to send the bloody timesheet to Petra Xanax, my boss, who needs to send it to Jamie La Ceinture, her boss, who needs to send it HR, who needs to print it on toilet paper for Peter Superman, our respected CEO, who will use it at home for entertaining guests who come for dinner parties.

This is what happens in the dream:

Me: Focker, would you be kind enough to send me your timesheet before EOP?
Focker: Sorry Miserable Middle Manager, I can’t, the deadline is too tight, and I am busy.
Me: it is the same deadline every week, I understand you are busy, but still you need to organize your time to be able to do your timesheet.
Focker: I see. Well I have 5 tasks to perform before I can even think about the timesheet. Which one do you want me to drop?
Me: Drop the attitude
Focker {grinning}: don’t be rude.

Suddenly, I take the baseball bat hidden under my desk, I jump across desks to reach him and hit him hard on the forehead.
He fells unconscious, so I pull the fat bastard from his chair, drag him to the toilet. On the way I catch a butcher knife which had appeared by magie (remember, it’s a dream). I close the door so that no one sees us, however no one is around. I start cutting his body into pieces, and stack them in the toilet, flushing each part.
But the bastard is bigger than expected, and the task takes ages. The head cannot be flushed so I put it in my computer bag. Also, I keep flushing, but the body parts are crawling back up the pipe.
I hear noise, it’s Xanax at the door, she breaks in and realises what I have done. She takes a hand towel and tries to smother me to rescue her protégé, but I am strong with rage and I escape!
Then, I am not sure how, she brings back all of Focker’s body parts and starts casting a spell to make him come back to life.....

Suddenly I hear : London Heart 106.2....it is 7am...my radio alarm is on – time to go to work.

It was a dream.

Focker is alive.

I am the zombie.

And I should stop watching TV series.

Happy Wednesday ladies and gentlemen!

This post is dedicated to our loyal 27 international readers

2011-11-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

7th November: 0 applications, 0 interviews, 1 rejection

It has been a few weeks now since Miserable Middle Manager decided to share her fortunes and misfortunes with her online comperes from all around the world. Her life is quite tough at the moment due to all subordinates, bosses, HR partners, recruiters, hiring managers and CV-sucking black holes, but a smile appears in her face every morning when she sees her loyal international readers a online and waiting for her posts.
Thanks to:

Russia: Ирина, Алина, Валерия, Доминика, Eкатерина, Ева, Искра, Кристина, Елизавета, Зоя, Наталья, Искра, Инна, Клементина, Клавдия, Розалина, Рената, Флорентина and Юлия.
United States: Michael, Bill, Samantha, Wilson, Kate and Julio Jose.
Germany: Gerbert
France: Auwow

for your support!

The Office Boyfriend

2011-11-08T03:14:00.000-08:00

Everyone should have an office boyfriend (or girlfriend).

It doesn’t matter if you already have one outside work, trust Miserable Middle Manager, it is not cheating!

So what is an office boyfriend?

An office boyfriend is a colleague that you like, that pretends to like you back, and that you admire somehow. Either you like them because they have charisma, have the job you dream to have, are good presenter or because everyone in their team love them - although they don’t seem to do shit!

The office boyfriend doesn’t have to be handsome, but let's face it - better have an eye candy OBF than not.

My OBF is the Big Cheese of Marketing in my organization (the BCM). He is not very handsome but he is not bad, probably in his late forties, he has mid length blond hair and blue eyes, he dresses super smart when he has important meetings, and dresses super cool when he doesn’t. He is an amazing presenter, and he doesn’t need a magic sock. Everyone loves him and respects him, although he is barely in the office. Which reminds me of my Xanaxed manager who is neither loved and respected and, like OBF is barely in the office.

How does he do that?

First I thought his perfume was the reason of his success, some kind of Lynx Effect! OBF smells super good and super strong, so he makes sure people can smell his presence in the office.
But if it was his smell, then management would become too easy, I can already imagine Chanel developing the perfume: ‘Office Flower from Chanel – your best friend in leadership’. Everyone would buy it, become a great leader and shock horror, it would be the end of Miserable Middle Manager! MMM would become Miraculous Middle Manager! Ha ca non alors!

OBF knows everyone’s name, OBF looks at you right in your eyes when he talks to you, OBF asks you personal questions and remembers your answers, so when he meets you again in a corridor, he makes sure you are the center of his attention for half a minute. OBF organizes a weekly meeting with his team on Fridays, half an hour before normal office hours. Anyone in the company who is interested is invited. Guess what, the meeting is always packed! OBF is an amazing presenter, and a master in NLP (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neuro-linguistic_programming)

OBF is my hero, he is a no nonsense manager, and he is a bigger star than Johnny Dep in Miserable Middle Manager's eyes.

OBF hates Tuesday mornings, so this post is dedicated to you OBF.

I wonder if OBF has ever been a middle manager?