Review This
On reading Razorhead’s epistle to his boss, I wondered for a moment if he worked in the same company as I did, until I read in his next post that he worked in Dorset. It all sounded so familiar.
It must be pay review time again for a lot of people.
I don’t understand why the pay review process takes so long for most companies. Surely they must have a proforma letter that they use at times like this that gives some spurious excuse explaining why they can’t give you a pay rise but that they use that peculiar executive business jargon that nobody really understands but makes it sound quite plausible.
Then there’s the concept of “self-evaluation.” A demeaning act where are you asked to identify your “strengths” (For god’s sake I’m British! When will you get it into your stupid heads that we are incapable of saying good things about ourselves?) and “development areas” (because they can’t refer to your inability to get to work on time as a weakness). They make you jump through hoops and get down on your knees to beg and generally treat you worse than a government chemical weapons expert, all because of the slim chance that you’ll get that token salary increase and the empty promise of that most elusive of all benefits, the “Annual Performance Bonus”.
Razorheard mentions salary negotiations as a type of bartering. That almost makes it sound respectable. A civilised, open market why of trading something you have that somebody else wants in return for something that they have that you want. I prefer to think of it more along the lines of prostitution. They have money - you provide a service. They begrudgingly pay you the money and then fuck you. Then leave you feeling used, dirty and cheap having just humiliated yourself for the money that you need to put bread on your table and keep a roof over your head.
I should leave. I should find a job that I can do that I enjoy in a place where I feel valued and necessary. But, then again, I’m a mercenary, a corporate whore. I’m like Han Solo; “I’m not in this for your revolution and I’m not in it for you. I expect to get well paid for this - I’m in it for the money!” I have become accustomed to a certain standard of living and it’s a hard thing to give up. So I bite my tongue, bend over like a good submissive and let them stick their dick up my arse in the knowledge that I’ll be able to go home, look my wife in the eye and say “let’s go out for a nice meal and a good bottle of wine!”
It’s at times like this I wish I had some principles.
