City Slickers

I may have mentioned before that I’m an INFJ. It’s a personality type from Myres Briggs. As such, I take huge issue with business schmoozing. It’s fake, it’s manipulative, it’s full of alpha male rubbish. It’s also interfered with my ability to sink into a hot bath and crawl into bed this evening.

On occasions, LSH has to leave his usual pit of technology in our wardrobe (yep – our closet contains no clothes, just a cupboard of awesome). This means a 2 hour commute into (and then back from) London. Not so bad when he can go up, do the work he needs to do then head home for 8ish. But on occasions he has to join in the schmoozing and use words like ‘blue sky’, ‘out the box’ and ‘ball park’. This means that our original begrudged pick up from the station at 9.30pm has now moved to 10.45pm due to men drinking and swinging their testosterone around in pinstripe suits. It’s the picture of why I have no enthusiasm for ever returning to the IT profession (aside from LOVING teaching).

I just cannot understand why business has to involve taking each other out for alcohol and self congratulatory willy waving. Why not just have a meeting, with a purpose, achieve your aim, then leave and go back to your respective families? Why do you feel the need to socialise with people you wouldn’t otherwise socialise with? This is not networking. Work is not getting done. You’re kidding yourself if you think this diabetes inducing behaviour is meaningful. No-one ever said on their death bed ‘I wish I spent more time with the guys from work’.

Tomorrow will see another 6am rush to get out the door by 7 so he’s on a train back up to the city. That’s less than 8 hours at home. Which in turn means less than 7 hours of sleep for me. A whole morning of teaching eleven year olds how to create spreadsheet formulas on less than 7 hours sleep. Just so men can congratulate each other that they can organise meetings and swap bits of paper around. Well done men.

I will accept that I am exceptionally prickly due to the ongoing sinus pain, but the rant still stands.

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