Work politics

I totally want one of these again.

I totally want one of these again.

So, you know how when you are trying to get pregnant, all you see around you are pregnant women and babies?

Never fear, this is not my declaration that I’m trying to get pregnant. And, for the most part, I am always surrounded by babies, usually on public transport or planes. I notice these things because I have delicate aural sensibilities (also known as basically being high maintenance and whinging about noise a lot).

In my recent sojourn/sabbatical/period of not working for cash, I realised I have a form of this perception. I decided, once I was set up in an apartment in Sydney, it was time to look for a job. To re-affirm my identity (concerning) but, mainly, to make sure my boyfriend and I don’t get sick of each other. And so I have something to talk to him about besides the election, Clive Palmer and all the blogs I read about diets and relationships (he now knows communication is the cornerstone of every relationship, as well as complimenting me on my outfits).

So, this perception. I realised once I was looking for gainful employment, I saw evidence of work politics everywhere. And I missed it. I missed it bad.

We were at Coogee Beach the other day. Lying on the sand in the gentle Sydney sun, devoid of any Brisbane-style humidity, watching the rhythmic flow of the waves roll in. Suddenly behind us, a work politics-style shakedown was occurring. A group of small children were playing, for want of a better description, ball. My boyfriend suspected it was a bastardised form of netball. I’ve never played netball and if the below is any indication, I’m glad I was spared this dog-eat-dog excuse for fun.

Feeling valued

“Sienna! Sienna! Pass me the ball!”

“…It’s Sarah.”



Being part of the team

“I’m on your team!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I am!”


“Oh yeah.”


On innovative thinking


“Get inside the line!”


“Um, I can’t see where the line is.”


On letting people go

“Ben, you can’t do that.”

“Ben! You can’t do that! You’re not on this team anymore.”

*Ben begins to belligerently kick sand in the air in response. Which looked like WAY more fun*


On sharing the team vision

“Who are you?”

“What are you doing?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“I don’t know.”


On working together

“No, no. You’re not on my team.”

“Who’s on your team then?”

“Um… me and Sarah and… I don’t know. But you’re definitely not on it.”


This charade of having fun ended when Mia’s mum offered all the worker bees, sorry kids, chips, causing a stampede toward the vending machine, sorry picnic basket.

Resourcing departments everywhere have little to fear.


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