Corporate Blues.

I now know how frustrated a person can be at office and how equally demeaning are its policies. People , people everywhere but not a friend to talk. By the way who needs friends during these trying times? Especially cry baby friends. Some such friend species can break the hell out of you.. And that too in such a place as my office.

Before one talks about my pay package or recognition, the first thing I want out of a workplace is peace of mind. Given a chance I would explode the HR to bits. They kind of decide when we should go to the loo. They tell us what ******* to wear on which day. Ultimately they decide our lives. The day will come when they tell us whom to marry. I wanted to do an MBA in HR, but I dropped the idea. Who would voluntarily want to bear the curse of thousands of employees for the rest of their lives? I certainly do not.

Now they want us to set ‘goals’ for the performance year. Goals! And me? ! Sure typing imaginary stuff in goal settings can be very interesting at times. Especially when my goal is to finish off the moron who wants us to document the goals. Whatever. Now there is a guy, who approves it. He can be miles away or in a totally different planet. And he, decides what I should do during the coming ‘performance’ year. Oh that sounds very interesting and pragmatic. And there is another guy, who analyzes what the alien has approved and passes his own comments in it. The broth is now spoiled to its nucleus by all the supernatural cooks and this would be the documentation of my fate for another 365 days. End of the day, I end up venting my frustration on my blog and the approvers are drawing fat salaries and filling excel sheets in their glass cabins.

Heights of injustice as I call it. There is another category whom I want to bombard and get rid of to the very blood cell. They are called ‘peer groups’. These are disturbingly lucky chaps and definitely not any better. They get promoted every six months and thereby raise the assessment bar so high that other deserving fellows are dragged through the rock bottom and they get to see how it is like to be in a space where there is rock bottom and layers of crap on it.
 I am in such a space now.

 It doesn’t feel good.

 It doesn’t smell good.

 I can still see the undeserving morons smirking devilishly at me.

It is ugly.