Tuesday, 11 February 2014

Don’t cross the line!

Law

Are we getting too obsessed with rules?

Now, I’m a good girl (to start with)! I will follow rules and processes to the letter to start with and feel very guilty if I accidentally break a rule when I am first introduced to whatever rule it is.

But, as time goes by and I know the reason why the rule is there, what it’s benefit is etc, I will sometimes make an informed decision to break it if I think the rule is a detriment to progression and I can confidently defend my decision to break it.

I agree that rules and processes are important – I don’t like chaos, I like things to be ‘tidy’. They are usually there for a reason. The right rules will keep things consistent and a project without good processes will be inefficient (believe me, I have personal experience of this right now).

But sometimes, I think someone gets a bit power hungry, only seeing their own point of view so throws up rules all over the place without any real consideration. Rules for the sake of rules!

Too much time is spent on Do do this and Don’t do that instead of setting guidelines and processes for improved efficiency, Not rules, they are too black and white, but a set of guidelines be ‘guided’ by.

For example, one of my work locations has the following rules:

No straying off the dark grey path into the light grey area unless going directly to talk to someone on the light grey area.

It is an open plan office with the desk area on light grey carpet and then a dark grey path that goes around the outside.

Now I understand this rule as perhaps it is a bit distracting people treating the space between the desks like a throughway. However the space between the desks is actually pretty wide, in my opinion. Plus, I’m guessing the floor is a suspended floor or something as whenever someone walks around the dark grey path near your desk you bounce like working on a bouncy castle! Like that’s not already distracting! Seriously, if you’ve not got your sea legs, don’t work there! Anyway, I get it but if someone happens to forget, they are reprimanded pretty swiftly. This rule is not to be broken!

“Back on the dark grey path!”

“Yes ma’am” *Head up, back straight, eyes forward*

No headphones.

Again, I can understand this in theory. The use of headphones can make someone very unapproachable. I know, myself, that I’ve avoided approaching someone with headphones in as I assume they wish to focus on what they are trying to do without distractions. But doesn’t the above rule do just the same?

I believe the use of headphones, especially in an open plan environment, are invaluable. There are times you do need to focus and to cut out all other noise. The use of headphones can improve someone’s productivity.

The rule shouldn’t be a ban all approach but a sensible use approach.

I’ve heard of other techniques for telling people you are busy and not to be disturbed, like using a hat, others use toys or light systems but they don’t cut out the other noise in the office.

Maybe the use of headphones and another more obvious signal could be put in place and a restriction to using the headphones in moderation.

Again, in my opinion, I think more organisations should allow the use of Instant Messaging. If someone does not want to be disturbed, they switch their status to ‘Do Not Disturb’. If someone had headphones in and the Do Not Disturb option has not been selected, I would message them to say I was coming over or to ask if I could come and speak to them a minute.

Again, taking this ability away feels like another ‘control’ and another excuse to treat staff like children!

Like I say, I can see the reasons behind the above rules but I feel they are a bit petty and in danger of leaving people feeling despondent and untrusted. I’ll be putting my hand up to ask to go to the toilet next.

After all, too many rules are known to stifle creativity and innovation and, quite frankly, people don’t like to be made to feel like they are back at school. I expect they feel intelligent enough to make their own, grown up decisions – after all, they were clever enough to get the job!

Without some freedom to make our own sensible decisions about how we work and being courteous to our colleagues are we just becoming a pawn in the workplace rather than a creative thinker?

How would I approach open plan working? Like I approach rule setting in the classroom! As a democracy not a dictatorship. Let the people create the rules then they are much more likely to appreciate them and stick to them. They’ve created and agreed to them so they believe in them.

I’d get one of those big white boards and ask everyone to write their rule suggestions on it. If someone agreed with someone else’s rule, they’d put a tick next to it. Then once a month they’d be an office discussion somehow (online forum or in a meeting room, whatever works for the office) where the reasons for and against the rules would be discussed and whichever ones stuck would be carried forward. The whiteboard would be cleared down and then you’d start again.

And rather than calling them rules, how about “Guidelines for Office Etiquette”. After a while, the suggestions may die down, you could put a deadline of 6 months on it and whatever guidelines you have agreed on at that time can be made into posters around the office, with it clearly stating that they have been created by the employees not by Senior Management.

Having said that, I can now see the office jobsworth chasing you down because you sneezed too loudly, reminding you of Guideline No. 162 to keep volume down to a respectful level!! So maybe just a small page on the office intranet which you direct new starters to on Induction – there could be an icebreaker around it! (Forever the L&D professional, me!)

We spend so much of our life in the workplace, how about making it a place we are happy to be and welcomed for our free thought! Treat people with respect!

Thank you for reading.

Thursday, 6 February 2014

The Give & Take

Do you have a ‘junk’ room that used to be a spare room but now you even wonder if there’s still a bed in there at all? Or a loft that may become the lounge if one more thing gets put in there ‘just in case’? A garage that wouldn’t fit another push bike (don’t think I’ve ever actually spoken that phrase ‘push bike’) let alone a car or a shed that has a padlock on for the purpose of keeping the stuff in rather than anyone out?

We have an office that is rapidly becoming that room!

We are a nation of hoarders and I think the financially hard times we have all gone through (and still going) have done nothing to discourage this - we are holding on to broken, tired, surplus items for ever longer.

I am guilty of this, thinking…”I’ll fix that at some point, it’s a shame to just throw it away”; or “you never know when that empty pot might come in handy for some knickknacks. Some things I throw in a craft box pretending I’ll one day sit down with the children and get creative, like my torn denim skirt! The craft box is overflowing!

This was my take-away box collection a couple of weeks ago:

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But it isn’t just me that is responsible for not letting go. I am the lucky recipient of other people’s unwanted items because they *think* they are letting go by seeing it go to a ‘good home’. “I was having a clear out the other day and came across this which I thought was a shame to throw out so I’ve brought it round for you”. Yeah thanks!

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good hand-me-down. My daughter’s wardrobe flourishes with gorgeous (and a few not so gorgeous) clothes which people have so kindly donated. I love getting clothes that I probably wouldn’t have afforded brand new or even ventured into the shop where they were purchased. I’ve been very lucky with the clothes Millie has received. In the same vain, the office includes a mountain (and I mean mountain) of clothes waiting to be sorted so I can pass on.I’m all for a bit of recycling!

For this reason, I can’t say no or ask them to stop. I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful so I take to the drab with the fab, then add them to the pile in the office that I’ll eventually sort and take to charity shop, tip or boot sale! Eventually!

What’s more, I know that if I ask them to stop, the next month I’ll say “I wish I had an antique wooden coffee table” and someone will say “oh, I got rid of one of those last week because you said you didn’t want anymore of my seconds”.

So why can’t I just say no to some of the stuff and accept the others? Because they don’t ask before bringing round they just bring it and if I say no and ask them to take it back with them I can see the crushing disappointment on their face or they try to persuade me that my life is really missing the plastic salad servers or they say “just take it to a charity shop if you don’t want it”. Sigh! On the pile it goes!

I’ve tried to ask them to stop! Well actually, I’ve threw a strop when pregnant! “No more!” I pleaded to my Mum once. She was hurt, I knew she was. I rang and apologised. 

Why don’t people just phone and ask first? I’d politely say no thank you or yes please and that would be it! Even if they give me a sales pitch to go with it, I can say I’ll think about it (and I will) and then come back to them with an answer before it even enters my house. It’s when it is dropped into my hands with the assumption I’ll want it that I find difficult.

How do you say yes please to some and thank you but no to others and get them to leave your house still in possession of the item? Answers on a postcode please…or you can just use the comments at the end of this post!

Thursday, 9 January 2014

Poem: matter over mind

My mind is racing
Disguised by a smile
My heart is racing
But I'm in denial.

I can't let them see
This feeling inside
This panic rising
I've got to hide

To all I look calm
But they don't know
The thoughts in my head
I won't let them show

I search for a reason
But there is none
I take a deep breath
And try to have fun

I know it is silly
I tell it to go away
That I'm fine, happy
What more can I say

Then I'm angry
So close my eyes
Then I tell myself
The worries are lies

I am not gonna let
The anxiety rule
I open my eyes
And stand up tall

I am in control
This here is my skin
I am gonna be strong
Anxiety will not win!

Monday, 6 January 2014

No Need to Fuss

I grew up as a fussy eater. Even though I consider myself to have a very varied diet these days and even, sometimes, adventurous, I can't shake that reputation as a fussy eater. It still follows me around.

In truth, the fussiest thing about me is my dislike for condiment sauces, such as ketchup, brown sauce, mayonnaise, salad cream, mustard etc (I like BBQ sauce). This may seem like such a small thing until you try to buy a pre-made sandwich!!

It can also be a big thing when going to someone's house for dinner as many dinner sauces (whether it's a marie rose sauce or a hollandaise) tend to be made with mayonnaise (I'm happy to eat mustard based sauces).

Anyway, I thought I would share some tales from my truly fussy days.

When I was about 9, I went on holiday with my parents to (former) Yugoslavia (now Croatia). Being a country that was recovering from war, the Yugoslavians tried very hard with their tourism. They tried to cater for the tourists in the usual style of burgers, pastas, pizzas but with a more touching way than you see in many tourist locations you get today. It really felt like they were trying to please. Unfortunately, they hadn't accounted for me! I didn't eat burgers because they usually got made with onions in the mix and I didn't like onions. I didn't eat pizza or pasta dishes like spaghetti bolognaise because I didn't like tomatoes. I didn't like fish. I did like plain meat like chicken and pork but, again, without any sauce.

To ensure I ate, my mum would cook me tea before we went out for dinner in the evening. My tea was a bowl of chicken noodle soup made from a packet. This was pretty much my diet for 2 weeks, along with a few chips and ice-cream - oh and a domestic sausage! (an interesting translation of homemade sausage).

You may think my mum was wrong to give in so easily to my whims! My aunt couldn't believe it but my mum said we were all on holiday and at least she knew I had eaten.

I actually tried it again today for the first time in years - it tasted like a bowl of dissolved chicken stock cube! I now can't believe I preferred that to everything else I refused in Yugoslavia.

Back home, my mum was never 'soft' when it came to eating.

Take everyone's favourite dislike, brussel sprouts! I actually like brussels now and don't think you can make a decent bubble 'n' squeak without it! But back in my childhood days, I hadn't yet acquired that taste. On a Sunday Roast day, my dinner would be dished up - the following would be a worst case scenario:


  • Fatty, overcooked (in my now adult opinion), chewy roast lamb
  • Roast potatoes (yum)
  • Parsnips disguised as potatoes (just cruel to do that to a child!)
  • Boiled carrots
  • Boiled brussel sprouts of which there were 5 (the number is important)
  • Gravy
Out of this dinner, the only things I disliked were the lamb, parsnips and sprouts and even the lamb would've been fine if it was another meat - or even cooked differently! And I'd eat the lamb until I hit on a piece that involved me chewing for 20 minutes. 

I'd be leisurely munching through my dinner then would come, from my mum 

"why aren't you eating your sprouts?"
"I don't like sprouts"
"Just eat 3"
"but I don't li..."
"eat 4!"
"but muuuu"
"eat 5!"
"muuuuum, I don't li"
"I'll start adding them on then, you'll eat 6".

Inevitably, I ate 3.

Then I'd bite into what I thought was a delicious looking potato "Yeurgh! What's this?" - it looked liked a potato, the same crispy golden skin but when I bit into it expecting delicious potatoey flavour, instead I got a horrid sweet taste. I like parsnips now...thanks to Jamie Oliver and his delicious bacon and maple syrup recipe, but think I would've liked them a lot sooner if my mum hadn't tried to disguise them. Your mouth expects one flavour and is then assaulted with another. It's never going to work!

That said...there were occasions when her sneakyness did catch me out! Tomato soup for example! You'll remember I didn't like tomatoes and that included tomato soup! My mum, struggling to make enough soup for my sister and me decided to mix together some cream of tomato with some cream of chicken. My mum eventually convinced me to try it saying it was different. I liked it and ate it. So then on she would tell me she was mixing together the two flavours but only ever giving me to the cream of tomato.

My dad could never understand my fussiness. Everyone else in the family were 'good' eaters. There were a few random dislikes, like my sister not liking cream or sausages, but generally everyone ate what they were given. I therefore became known as Debbie Don't Like! Anytime, my dad heard there was something new I didn't like, he'd question me about it then "oh it's Debbie Don't Like again". Even if it was the same thing I had said I didn't like last week, he would start again.

The biggest 'cure' to my fussiness was peer pressure as I reached adulthood (going to people's houses for dinner) and then I bravely volunteered to join the Entertainment Committee at work. I knew I was fussy but I had a good idea of what 'normal' people liked and disliked so would choose a menu for them and not myself. On the actual night, I would choose the least revolting sounding dish from the selected menu and was often pleasantly surprised when it turned up and I liked it. My tastes grew and I got more adventurous. 

It is no wonder, I've learnt from their mistakes and was determined my children wouldn't be fussy like I was. It is highly likely, if they had just let me be and I was introduced to new tastes in my own time then I probably would've had a very different attitude to food.

But I guess, I turned out alright in the end :o).

Stormy Waters

I listen to them roar as they rush upon the shore.
Hungrily searching and dangerously lurching.
Sucking seaweed and shells back into dark angry swells.
Their beauty and power, looking to devour
The week and weary; hunting, nearly!
Their thunderous cry matches that of the sky
Deafening as silence as they approach with violence.
They rush upon the shore as I listen to them roar.