Snow Job

Two new things came to town this week. Snow, and a new job.

The two are not linked, but maybe I should set myself a challenge and see if I can incorporate the two.

After getting back from our wonderful trip to NZ, I could see the writing on the wall. Both my direct boss, and her boss, had both taken new jobs within the company while I was away. I had seen this behaviour before when I first came to the UK, where Mum and Dad moved without letting me know, and without forwarding their new address. It was such a jolly game, that every time I tracked them down, they would unexpectedly move again. Oh, how we laughed every time.

Since I now had no upper management, I had either been promoted in absentia, or they had both spoken to my parents. With the fateful phone call from my boss where she asked the classic question “ where do you see your career going …… “ I was summonsed to England to meet her, and discuss this. She showed me the new infrastructure diagram, with lots of new fancy titles, departments, and locations, but the biggest piece of the puzzle missing was the one for a middle-aged fat bloke, who was used to working from home in his underwear. Luckily at the last minute, in a role that was seen on the very roots of the corporate tree, which I had mistaken for a footnote in fact, was a couple of questions marks which they asked whether I would like to fill. Having spent most of my career (?) not really knowing what is going on, I thought this would role of ‘????’ would be perfect.

My boss has written up the job description for ‘EU IT Incident Manager’ and I have agreed to it. As long as HR does not figure out who I am, the paperwork should go through soon. It must be a made up job, as while it has ‘EU’ in the title some of the responsibilities will cover a team in the Philippines, and one in India.

Prior to this I will be going in to get a new bionic shoulder. I have calcific tendonitis in my left shoulder, and have a pre-operative assessment on Feb 5th. They will then give me a date for surgery, this will be booked, and I will get a new shoulder and a faded denim outfit to wear home, saving us $6,000,000, as the NHS here in Scotland is paying for it (via my National Insurance contributions).

I sent Mum and Dad a postcard telling them of my job and impending surgery, but the Royal Mail have just returned them both. Oh, those kidders……