Diary Notes 4 May 3012

A staggering blow, blasting us right out of the

safe harbour of calm into the stormy seas of

total uncertainty, Human Resources decided

they could not let go of the forms as they are

and are holding workshops and meetings to

change everything again, all our hard work

to comply with their requirements are come

to naught, they realised it was too easy and

decided to reinterpret and reissue in another

format, I'm reeling under this new volley and

feeling my brain cells exploding in shock

I cannot continue with routine work, having

lost the ground beneath my feet…

Oh, the joys of bureaucracy is unspeakable…

The Floundering Ship

 
A great day sailing on the
floundering ship at the office,
Hanlie an elfish, mischievous
captain, June quietly at the helm,
Hermien swinging in the rigging 

while I plotted a course through

the rapids of cascading words
spilling over my desk
 
Human Resources destabilised
the ship by throwing the compass
away yet we ploughed on, June
can’t be deflected from steering
straight for the bay of organised
perfection while updating lists -
though Microsoft warns our
software is outlawed
 
Being illegal means we are a
pirate ship; now I understand why
everything is going awry, breaking
down, why tumultuous chaos follows
in our wake – and still the ship stays
afloat and we all have fun as we try
plying our trade and playing our
marvellous instruments
 
However lacking in melody, the
rhythm full of joie de vivre makes
up for every shortcoming…
 

Diary Notes 3 May 2012

Sulphur And Brimstone (Revised)

Once I’d mastered cut and paste by cheerfully

bouncing up and down, I transferred my Work

Plan to the assessment instrument making it

sing like a violin, though sadly, an ominous

contrabass creating the song of ‘Rating 3 –

Competent’ seldom needing to be asked about

progress of tasks while showing commitment

I am an accomplished advisor ready to guide

anxious colleagues through the disastrous

minefield of Self Assessment, recognized as 

inspirational after confessing I worked with

a blinding headache and suffered self-

immolation to get through a never-ending

avalanche of self-referencing questions

I feel justified; my being means something

I help others through pitfalls that threatened

me as I braved brambles of confusion, arriving

in calm waters of Assessment Duly Completed

and handed to HR – the Section spawned in

Hell suffering us the sulphur and brimstone

of self-evaluation!

Work Poems 3 January 2012

1. FIRST THOUGHTS

First morning back, holiday eyes strain through multifocals
which will not focus on a widescreen, work email won’t open,
password can’t be changed, no access to G-drive documents,
clearly some ‘me’-time here

Time to reorganise papers and drawers, fill in 2012 diary,
get ready for the Maya’s predicted end, should their
calendar be right – I sincerely doubt this as doomsday
prophecies have horrible tendencies to be wrong

Hunger pangs remind me I am far from my kitchen,
cannot make pancakes with cinnamon, sugar and lemon,
sudden cold shock realising I am once again at the
mercy of fast-food restaurants –

Oh woe is me, the only joy in life left the elderly, eating,
becomes a fight for survival whereas at home it is a
24 hour delightful pastime!


2. GODS FAVOURED ME

Heat – no air-con today – realising France’s dream of
saving their coastline due to the Greenhouse effect,
went for a lunch-break stroll singing all the way,
refusing to contemplate office problems

The gods favoured me on my first day, email connection
restored, now I am so privileged to read criticism of the
work I did before leaving on holiday, I am still girdling
my loins with positive thoughts

Before tackling heartbreaking rejection of words I wrote,
New Year’s Resolution: never face today what can be
deferred to tomorrow, stop and smell the roses, I can
read nasty remarks any time

The mere fact of having an office in which to be miserable
is such a source of joy and delight, not to be spoilt with
feelings of inadequacy; why cry about the humours of
those in charge trying to convince me I am

A disaster because I cannot write the words they dictate,
cannot march to the tune they prescribe, kept in my place
by them changing their translation rules every day - I am
thankful that I can still think and feel after years

As a civil servant, I should have turned into a cyborg ages
ago, yet the incessant stream of criticism proves I am still
the same human I was at the beginning – people like me
cannot be changed into robots

No matter how much criticism is directed our way, olé!


3. CYBORG-ROBOTIC MODE

Checking the work I did in cyborg-robotic mode, though I
resemble Marvin the Paranoid Android more than Arnold
Schwarzenegger’s character in Terminator, pleased with
the lack of mistakes, the cold work of a true civil servant,
sans mind, sans reason, sans feelings

This brilliant document a testament to a human being’s
ability to exist like a vegetable, joyfully restricted to its
own phenomenology as preached by Zen Buddhists -
not asking for meaning, no existential question, a way
of being totally happy advocated by those

Seeking such blissful existence; though it is peaceful, it
is also absolutely boring, my unwilling submission to this
system only proves we are destined for a passionately
emotional universe, we serve in penitence for survival
to eat, drink, dress and sleep - but in non-physical

Where consciousness continues unabated, we shall be
free to experience feeling intense - as physical reality
will no longer dicate every mental step we take
along the way…

Bizarre Satire

Life is bizarre, received a letter
incriminating a State Doctor for
assaulting a patient; subsequent
indictment of another doctor and
all officers at the police station
where she lodged a complaint

Made it clear this person causes
her own problems, she descries
all in self-righteous indignation -
everybody gets angry when she
opens her mouth to spew forth
a stream of poisonous words

A second letter even more absurd, a
patient claiming a psychiatrist tortured
her diagnosing schizophrenia and the
medication prescribed did not agree with
her system, she demands prosecution
for murderous intent…

I should claim indemnification for suffering
when reading such aberrational material,
luckily it reminds so much of the burlesque
I started laughing, realising that these ab-
solutely marvelous complaints contribute
immensely to the satire of life

I cannot blame them for being mental, knowing
that on a spiritual level, they create their own
problems through their vitriolic attitude to people
who try to do good – this should teach all altruists
you cannot help those who refuse to accept res-
ponsibility for anything that happens to them!



The Hypochondriac by Molière

Work Chronicles Tues 22.11.2011

Mary Poppins is dying of boredom,
don’t know what Pollyanna is doing,
Maria von Trapp is bustling as always,
Heidi is diligently doing administration
Madame La Pompadour discreetly stays
in her bed and only moves to her couch
when vertigo and double vision abate

What is the use of finding the element
of fun in every job to be done when the
cake Mary Poppins enjoyed in the park
before riding the Merry-Go-Round in a
race, is shrinking her mind - here is a
mystery that would have thrilled Anastasia
Krupnik no end: Why did Mary Poppins

Consume two slices of cake and why did
she have only one sinus pill - since every
good thriller needs a murder or corpse,
let us add, though we’re sitting on the
sixth floor which used to be a hospital,
we have not seen or felt a disembodied
presence or strange energy

This Kingsley building does not offer any
respite from breathing desultory air while
wondering how to kill time to get to the
end of this day…


Mary Poppins – Me
Pollyanna – Hanlie
Maria Von Trapp – Hermien
Heidi (Johanna Spyri)– June
Madame La Pompadour – our very sick boss
Anastasia Krupnik – character in a book
series written by Lois Lowry

A Flash of Inspiration

In a flash of inspiration I
picked up the dry branch
lying in my path as I started
on my lunch-time walk

Nearly took out the eyes of
one or two hapless passers-
by - apologising profusely -
with a Cheshire-cat grin

Took the heavy duty lift to sixth
floor, mounted my contribution
to office interior decoration on
coat hanger stand, secured

With pink scarf, added imitation
crystals, artificial roses and other
odds and ends - the effect quite
startling, cannot wait to hear

Comments from my colleagues,
they know me as unconventional,
some openly lament my lack of
style and savoir faire

But most laugh with me,
enjoying these on-the-
spur-of-the moment
schemes

Joyous Philandering

Enfolded in the most soothing feeling of
accomplishment, I have completed the
second warrant of arrest with enough
archaic phrases to humour my flighty
mind

We command, require and instruct to
receive, maintain, uphold, re-enforce,
apply and implement the warrant of
arrest, nobody shall be left in doubt
about

Action to be taken after such strenuous
commanding, requiring and instructing,
such grandiose terms can only mean
one thing: Grab the criminal and put
him

In prison – toute suite - make no bones
about it – let him languish while we
deliberate how long it will take to
rehabilitate him – sorry, just our
little joke

We know prison is a crash course in uncon-
ditional pilfering and joyous philandering, in
perfecting the techniques of seizing the
possessions of other people since
criminals believe

Everybody as callous and unworthy as they
themselves; as for the good guys, the Lord
will take care of them - no need to worry
about their problems, one prayer and
they will be

Happy again while praying for
their lost brethren…

I Would Rather Be…

Thirteen pages of absolute nonsense,
pure propaganda without an ounce of
truth, crass materialism, prejudice, lack
of understanding and insight – and you
want me not only to read this junk, but
to translate it also?

I would rather be consumed by a legion
of ants, be stung by a myriad bees, face
a ravenous lion or a rabid dog, rather be
crucified or stoned to death, than read
and translate such stupidity, rather start
digging to find the Tibetan tunnels

Mentioned in Good Omens, meet hostile
aliens conducting strange experiments on
human victims, seek for the ancient under-
ground cities described by Von Däniken,
rather walk barefoot over glowing coals,
be stuck on the SS Eldridge ship of the

Philadelphia Experiment, moving in and
out of time, running the risk of deep freeze
as explained by the elusive Victor Allende,
rather fly over the Bermuda Triangle or
confront the Japanese Devil Sea, rather
be stuck on the moon or fall into

An interminable rabbit hole, than read and
translate this document; every time I look
at it, the skin on my head starts to shrink,
I would rather be skinned alive by the last
of the Mohicans, have my heart torn out
still beating while I am alive

In sacrifice by the ancient Mayans, than
work on this piece of utter stupidity…

Delicate Intricacies (Rev.)

Privileged to study delicate intricacies in
sweet-flowing terms of Lease Agreements
dramatic antiques declaiming innocence
between Lessor and Lessee

impressive controversies in who pays for
what, when and why, bewitching legalese,
magnificent sentences enshrining an
inexorable right

of Lessor to inquire of the Municipality
whether a Lessee recalcitrant is keeping
up payments, charming enquiries to ensure
accoutrement damages do not occur

can my poetic soul convey these delicacies
to the unaware ignorant of joyous rental
contracts; the enchanting discovery of
mysteriously beguiling legal jargon?

Demon Drink

Tired after the mad rush of today to translate
a typical soap opera conversation, he said, she
said, someone asked, the chairperson replied,
trying to keep my brain awake when desultory
remarks posing as minutes change it to mush

I must continue at home, stay in this uniform flow
until I reach the opposite side of this river of words,
churning about, foam afloat and nothing else, tonight
must be the final attempt, due date’s tomorrow, oh
night of sorrow, I foresee dipping my boredom

In the much deplored demon drink of moral Topaz
McGonagall – and who can blame me…

Namakwas of the Kamiesberg

It is lunch time, I am staring at lovely names
first the Klein Namakwas of the Kamiesberg
the Namas and Klein Korana Huis, also the
First Nation of the Northern Cape, and then
The Khomani San

Le Fleur representing the Griquas on the
Council, I always dream on words like
Kamiesberg and Koue Bokkeveld and
the beauty of Namaqualand, the
Outeniqua mountains

With steam trains where the Griquas
and Khoi-San enjoy their lives
in the sun…

Eternally Valid, Beautific Ideas

*
I fully submit to and accept as my due
any punitive measures that are applicable,
I shall reread every document and if I cannot
master the art of studying unmusical stuff, I shall
expire quietly, seek the Bermuda Triangle and
disappear within its embrace, or sink into the
growing Black Hole in my mind

I shall persist in affliction and self-immolation
until I can desist from committing gross negligence
in failing to research the correct terminology for every
concept and grammar rule, for every thing that is claimed
in the source document

I see visions of a future wherein I shall conquer the evil
sin of omitting to pursue my duty single-mindedly or die
in the attempt, let my spirit expire and my soul shrivel if
I have to in order to serve the community in expressing
their eternally valid, beautific ideas, in honouring every
word that was written by another hand other than mine,
in idolising the magnificent officials and brilliant authors
out there who so graciously honour mankind by putting
their stupendous and scintillating ideas on paper for me
to adore and translate without changing a single concept
or idea, magnifying the grace of their eternal creations by
translating faithfully, trying to probe obscure meanings
with supernatural force if I cannot fathom it immediately,
in short, I shall render my due unto Ceasar as behoves the
serving bureaucrat that I am

“In future, any report or assessment you submit, whatever the
state thereof, will be given as is to DD/FLEA and D/TE and
will serve before the moderation committee

In future, if your work is not of an acceptable quality, it will be
returned unto you, repeatedly if necessary, until it is acceptable”

I apologise for my inability to master administration and
bureaucracy, I know I am an unworthy official and accept
all censure as my rightful due and hope to humiliate my spirit
sufficiently to become an efficient bureaucratic official

I am sorry that I did not idolise this status and ideal before and
will try to make amends by elevating it to the status of highest
objective of my life
*

Apologia

*
This I am telling you not to excuse my negligence
and mistakes, simply by way of explanation of
behaviour that must seem self-destructive to
you - and definitely is, my driving has
deteriorated to the point of my trying
to kill people on street - as the
allergy increased.

Please accept my sincere apologies, at
the moment I cannot get anything right
I am guilty of negligence, too stressed
to regain calm now that I realize how
many negligent mistakes I have made
today, let alone the whole of the previous
month, and even further back.

Hubby added a new sauce to our food
for the past few months without telling me
and the build-up of allergy led to increasing
mental confusion and stress, and painkillers
do not suppress built-up allergy symptoms.

Nothing can excuse negligence, I accept full
responsibility for the fact that I have not handled
my allergy problem well and became guilty of
gross overall negligence.

I accept that my eating disorder cannot excuse
any mistakes and errors, and willingly accept all
punitive measures as my due.

I can only offer my sincere apologies and attempt
to manage my life and diet better in future, while
expecting no leniency when I shirk my duties.
*

TV Addicted Freak

*
An internet surfing, TV addicted
total freak recording his musings
and deeming them so important
he sends them to Presidents

Spinning tales about pig farms and
his grandmother eating ham, crops
of maize replaced by sorghum, dying
tavern-keepers and global warming

Coolly informing the French President
now is their chance for a humanitarian
deed: take in climate refugees, teach
them French and practice getting rid

Of Xenophobia, indeed! I am sure the
President has been waiting to hear
from this self-important author
his whole life long!
*

I Should Learn Self-Discipline

Time to go to bed, no more fiddling the time away,
no more hiding from sleep, though I cannot see sleep
finding me tonight, I’m ready to return to colleagues
and have some fun, but reading glasses I have none,
to be collected next week, I shall still have to suffer and
weep for struggling with small writing, esoteric books
say we create a safe universe by thinking of security,
I wish I were secure about my own fallibility, I wish I
could predict how my mood swings will go and fasten
myself with a chain to a positive state of mind, a place
cast in stone, yet I know that by ten o’clock a blood
sugar low will demand I eat, afterwards a migraine
will follow, a delicate balance to be struck between
eating too little and having too much, starting with
adrenaline in seeing friends, then sagging spirits as
officialdom requires routine acts that irk so much
and I don’t even know why it should be so, John
Maxwell would have fired me without a scruple,
I should learn self-discipline, what a stentorian
leader he is, with him in charge, I would have
fired myself, I suffer from what my friend calls
an artistic temperament, hubby calls it self-
centered egotism, I must learn to do my duty,
I suspect only death will bring release…