Vacant

Yeeeeagh. Ok this is the week for which there is no name. It’s the week before I leave my current employer – yee hah – but it’s not as good as next week which is the week where I actually leave my current employer.

The week where I leave my current employer can be called a name; I suggest “me, werk, no chance” week in which the cast of characters with whom I share my travails will suddenly begin to realise that it’s too late for me to finish off that vital bit of code and check it in to the end of week build [ahem; sorry non geeks, that was WAAAAAY too computer programmer geeky]. It will also be the week where my standard answer to most prolonged questions aimed at me in tedious meetings will be answered with a long sucking of teeth and then a forthright….”meh” and a shrug of the shoulders. Despite this, it will not be hypocritical at all for me to continue to expect my salary to go into the bank at the end of the month. It is the natural order of things for employees in their final week of their notice period.  If I attempt to write any sensible code in my final week one of the little angels in heaven will die.  Fact.

I did think I might be put on gardening leave like others who have bravely marched away before me but no, apparently I am “too trustworthy” and “honest” and “we know we can reply on you because you’re a chump diamond”.  To which I say, again; “meh”.

This current week, of course, is the week in which the guilt of leaving my fellow programmers in the lurch is still more than seven days away and as such is not acute enough for me to actually feel remotely motivated to write any form of code that even vaguely functions as expected.  Unless you count “not working at all” as the normal expectation of code written by me – which you might, if you had used any of the programs I have written in the past 20 years which you may have because I’m mildly well known in the real world but under many cunning guises to avoid alimony, stalkers, the taxman and thieving gits after my computers (all of whom are sometimes combined and abbreviated into one Borg collective person called The Inland Revenue).

But I digress from my ranting discussion; to whit; this week is like a puppy that smells of cabbage, puppy dog = good, cabbage smell = not so good.  Want to leave right now (puppy), can’t because I have to work out my notice period writing computer programs (phew, cabbage).

On the plus side; in yesterday’s planning meeting our horrendously expensive, rightly ridiculed and over-wordy management consultant announced to the whole of the development team “I have decided to resign”.  He then started to give his convoluted reasons for going but they were a little drowned out by the sound of the Managing Director spitting his tea out in shock since it would appear that he had not been let in on this cunning plan of our beloved extraordinary expense budget’s impending departure.  It was a spectacular way to hand your notice in made even better by the fact that as he is still within his trial period (foolishly made out to six months) he is able to leave at the end of this week.  What a crapper.  This means he gets to leave before I do thus very slightly stealing my already over-used thunder.

My day down in the London office yesterday was one of added joy as following our planning meeting a few more of my colleagues sidled up to ensure I had their “personal contact details” and emphasised how much they “would like to work with me again in the future” – generally said with the same manner as Michelle from ‘Allo ‘Allo, except  I did not have to listen very carefully because they did indeed say it more than once.

Happy days.   Right, back to You Tube then.