Wednesday, September 5, 2018

I’m the timesheet police, goddammit.

I’m the timesheet police, goddammit.

And you must respect me.

Respect me for a system was designed in the early 1990s, and runs on server hardware that’s as antiquated as a 1973 Chevy Nova.

Respect me for a system that takes fifteen minutes to load. That makes going back a step is impossible. And that demands you use a preferred browser, like Netscape.


I’m the timesheet police, goddammit.

And you’re 20 minutes late with your timesheets. And I'm pissed.

I don’t care that you’ve been a loyal employee of the holding company for nine years and have regularly gone over and above to get your job done.

I don’t care that you regularly work 60 hour weeks and over weekends and holidays.

My job is to threaten, harass, intimidate and to make highly-compensated senior members of the company feel like meaningless interchangeable cogs in a giant faceless machine that does little but insult and browbeat.

I’m the timesheet police, goddammit.

Yes, I’m just about the only interaction you’ll ever have with the holding company that pays your salary.

Yes, I am the face of the faceless technocrats that run your professional life.

Yes, I am mighty and you are a lowly pawn.

I’ll be bureaucratic, shrill and autocratic in every communication I have with you.

I will start every email with the word warning.
I will use colored type to frustrateannoy and cow you.
I will make you feel small, unimportant and insignificant.
I will do this on an almost daily basis.

Because I'm the timesheet police, goddammit.

And you're 20 minutes late.

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