What should I write? What should I blog? Nothing comes to mind. The mind goes blank like the grey that the sky appears above hulking buildings in these days of the deluge – continuous, contiguous, unceasing. Somebody tell the rain to stop or it will overstep the limits of my patience. There are tensions that build up at the work place, where simple things snowball into complicated things and simple things not done boomerang on one sometimes. Won’t talk in specific terms but it never used to be like this.
Consider for example when I started working. Consider that ubiquitous instrument: the telephone. The only telephone I had was in the office, therefore I could only call up someone after It was one with a rotating dial, I don’t know if any of the present generation has seen a telephone with a rotating dial which goes: krrrrrrrtackack, krrrtackack, krrrrtackack, each time you dial a number and when you release your finger after banging it against s metal holder. Then would start an annoying tic, tic, tic, tic, tic at the local exchange till it turned to puck, puck, puck, puck at the other end of the telephone exchange. Then, if you are lucky, after an interminable wait one could hear the shrill ringing sound and a tinny voice at the other end.
These days, well, these days business is done on cell phones. Clients, suppliers, ad agencies, and sundry tuppence media don’t think twice about waking you up from sleep to ask stupid questions. One such agency woke me up one night to ask if it’s okay to change the font size on a certain collateral we were doing, so that the copy would fit. What? That could have been asked in the morning, couldn’t it? I asked bleary eyed and unable to grasp the situation.
“The problem is we are in the office, still figuring out how to do it.”
“God home men. What are you doing so late? I am half asleep here.”
“We are an agency, our customer satisfaction paradigm starts steady appreciation when you people go to bed. So we have no alternative but to wake you up. Get customers all conscious of how hard we work.”
“Oh yeah, is that what we pay you for?”
“Excuse me sir, pardon our impertinence, but do you want the collateral in A4 size of 20 centimetres across and 20 centimetres in height.”
“You take your centimetres and your collateral and shove it, you paedophile half twit with a double chin.”
But I didn’t say as much. Couldn’t insult geniuses who work in the night you know.