Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Snow Report




Weather Updates: Please check with the college website, it is updated frequently.
I just updated it personally. Great news about the war being over, but it's time to put that all behind us and be nice to the Boers.
Don't worry your little heads about whether or not you have any lecturers here on the premises.
Come in anyway.
People do all sorts of hazardous and apparently pointless pilgrimages.
We don't sell any healing waters or anything like that but you can have all the snow you want.
It is rumoured to have mystical properties. whooooooohooooo
Honest.
Anyway. I just wiped the window with my cardigan and I can issue the following Weather Report:

Snow

Although snow is very pretty, fluffy and decorative it is also horribly dangerous and inconvenient, so, for your welfare, we have provided the following helpful guidelines to get you through this period:


Attacks by polar bears or wolves:

If attacked by fierce arctic animals whilst on college business we recommend that you run away very quickly (in the direction of the nearest classroom)

Take care not to allow any of the aforementioned animals to enter the building, (unless they have first signed in and have been allocated the appropriate visitor’s badge.)


If you cannot run to your designated classroom then find the nearest broom cupboard and run there. We cannot afford to lose time simply because you have been careless enough to be chased or savagely mauled by wild beasts.


Accidents: Having an accident is a great tragedy and we are very concerned that you avoid these.

We suggest therefore that you stay off the roads and sleep in the class.
(Some of you will already know how to do this)
We have everything here that you need at New College, we are all very nice, loving people.

Don’t ring into the office to say that you’ve had an accident and will be late.

Road accidents, especially at high speeds take place in a fraction of a second. Therefore you shouldn’t be very late should you?


Health and Safety Guidelines

Following your accident have a good look around for a few moments

  1. Do you have the same number of arms as you had before?
  2. Do you have the same number of legs as you had before?
  3. Is your head pointing in the same direction as it was before? (Look down-if you see your feet you’re ok-if you can see your arse you may have a problem.)
  4. You may have to locate any missing limbs for future surgical re-attachment to your body. (Note: Any hospital time should be taken at weekends or using any available TOIL.)


You may ring into the office to let them know that you will be late in the following circumstances:

1. until you have fashioned some snow shoes from tennis rackets and walked here

2. until you have acquired enough stray dogs to haul your Wilko sledge back to college

3. From the remnants of your own, and other crashed vehicles you have built a small aircraft and flown the required distance to your classroom.


Frostbite:

The loss of fingers is to be avoided at all costs. You cannot do assignments unless you have one or two fingers left, so think ahead and try not to compromise your efficiency. Noses may be sacrificed unless you’re required for publicity photos or you wear glasses.


In the event of you dying of hypothermia please let us know in advance that you are feeling tired and are about to lie down in a blizzard and go to sleep.

In order to conform to current traceability procedures you’ll need to tell us exactly which mound of snow you’re under so that when the spring thaw arrives we can retrieve any confidential items from you frozen body.

Information governance should not be taken lightly, even during an icy death.



Dsc/sno/22/12/10

Monday, 1 October 2012

"Care in the Community"

-or-
Gimme a Break
and a Bite
 and a little bit of Concussion.

Well I dunno. Maybe it's me...again
Today a client/service user/resident was taken out for lunch.
The client/service user/resident has a history of violence.
He is taken to a busy public restaurant for his meal accompanied by two female members of staff.
Client is forbidden a second helping of pudding as staff (many of whom weigh the same as a grand piano, but let's leave that one hanging there) have determined that he needs to be on a diet.
The client is unhappy about the restriction and thereupon decides to become a one-man riot.
He rips glazed pictures from the walls and smashes them.
Staff intervene using the approved "holding techniques".
These work very well when you're demonstrating them in a cozy classroom with fellow staff members who really can't be arsed to put some effort into it, but it's a different matter when a big, beefy client/service user/resident has lost the plot and wishes to stop your breathing.
Staff are struck several times and one thumb is almost bitten through.
Client/service user/resident then starts taking his clothes off.
Eventually the injured staff manage to subdue him and return him back to base.
One staff member goes to hospital, and the other one has to complete a twelve page incident report that details what happened, why it happened, what led up to it, and most important of all...to indicate that only approved holding methods were used.
Bad luck for you if you transgressed and used the wrong move when someone is trying to remodel your face.
The staff do this for the same pay as someone who stacks shelves in Tesco.
Any member of the public injured during this kind of incident may not be liable for Criminal Injuries Compensation as the client/service user/resident is not judged to be legally responsible for their actions and therefore will not be charged with anything.
Similarly staff who are injured may get nothing.
 In the above incident the police weren't even called, and if they aren't called then nobody is charged and an offence never even happened.
The staff team is falling apart.
People who are already exhausted have to work overtime to cover the staff who are injured, and morale drops through the floor.
It seems to me that attempting to manage someone who is this dangerous "in the community" is utter madness.
It is a service neither the client nor the staff nor the public.




Monday, 3 September 2012

Jobbed



Sorry it's been so long
I found an agency and they found me some work.
....well quite a lot of work, as it happens
I'm now working pretty much full-time.
and possibly more than that
I'm not sure how all the other agencies failed to find me anything as this one has me working when I'm asleep and in the bath.
Granted I'm working where most people would rather not work.
Granted the pay is rubbish
Granted the work is so dodgy I can't even write about it...yet.  That's the thing about Facebook.
The only thing it's safe to post on here is a picture of your dinner.
I love living in a free country, don't you?
But hey-ho -it's waged employment.
Still trying to find time to write though, and that can be a problem as I've little time to do it.
This morning I escaped from home to as an army of workmen were busy tearing walls down whilst doing a steel-toe-capped Irish jig
I found a quiet corner of Macspoons, nursing  a frothy cappuccino.
Dreams of Boswell and Mrs Miggins' pie shop were lost in a sea of undesirables bearing bawling babies in burberry buggies. 
 Two minutes later a sack barrow arrives bearing a fruit machine which is promptly  installed three feet away from me.
Flashing lights give me an epileptic fit whenever I raise my eyes from the keyboard causing me to froth at the mouth .
I get no medical assistance as people assume it’s the cappuccino.
Oh now this IS amusing.
 Two fat guys with matching shorts, snooker- ball-bearing heads and  squeaky voices have homed in like hungry wasps to a jam pot and have decided to play on the fruit machine.
At least they have obstructed the flashing lights.
Oh dear, now they’ve gone.
 THE LIGHTS! THE LIGHTS!!!!!
I’ll talk I tell you”!!!!

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

You make me feel, mighty surreal



In which I get a job.
Or possibly not.

This may mark the end of this story.
Or possibly not.
Always leave room for a sequel.

An account of my day:
I know some employers read Facebook so this is a bit -er-restricted.
Isn't this a sad comment on the twenty- first century?
we have the ability say anything we like on "Social Media" but unless it's bigging up our employer or saying what we had for dinner we need to watch what we are saying, because wherever we are, and whatever we say: Big Brother Is Watching Us.
and most of us are so asleep that we accept all this without a murmur

Okay , so I attend an interview with this charity.
It works with homeless alcoholics.
I have experience!
 I've been homeless (I once slept in a car-it was a nice Ford Capri -three careful owners, but the other two were Bodie and Doyle) the seats folded down-you get a very decent night's kip)
I attend an induction event with a gang of other hopefuls-I get interviewed  –only sessional work, but it’s a start...
A letter comes to say I'm in.
One of them.
A made man.
Months pass and I’ve not heard anything so I send them an email.
 Hello it’s me and I’m not dead, can I have some work please.
Oh.
Comes the reply from head office. You need to do some shadowing shifts first
Emails arrive with the details.
Just one line on each email.
Not hello. Not how are you., not who I will need to ask for when I arrive to "do shadowing".
Just the name of the building.
Not the location, just the name of the building.
I think I’m going to be a spy or something
So on the appointed day I get up and go to the first of the shadowing shifts.
It’s torrential rain and rush hour and I have to get from home to them, which is over 30 miles and I’m full of hay fever and neuralgia and soaked.
Never mind.
I have to do my shadowing shifts.Dripping wet I announce my presence in the office.
They look a bit confused.
I spot a face I recognise from the induction day, that I did months ago.
Hi I’m here to do my shadowing"
You’re here to do what?"
My shadowing.
"You’ve done it."
No. I think that was my induction
"No" he replies."I think it was your shadowing."
He vanishes to a back room to make a call to head office, comes back, looks at me and says:
“It’s sorted. You’ve done your shadowing, you can go home”
Oh. I reply. I expect this happens a lot."No" .he says. "It never happens"
So I drive back, Another hour through the Red Sea with Moses parting the waves and drowning the chariots so I can get back to my bed in a sea of pollen and hankies.
I just got an email from “head office”.
About seven hours after my shadowing shift that never was.
(I've dried off by now.)
They are “delighted to confirm that you are cleared to work for us”
Well fuck you very much. I’m delighted too, you bunch of retards.

So that's it. My story far.
Probably not the end, probably not the beginning of the end, probably not even the end of the beginning.
What have I learned so far?
A few things. None of them particularly helpful.
  1. The systems don't work. When you're out of work it takes forever for the system to recognize the fact. Think of a number. Multiply it by the square root of 132. That's how long it will take to process your claim. The cogs move very slowly and with all the efficiency of a pissed apprentice tap dancer wearing clogs.Through treacle. You  probably have been back in work having been the Shadow Secretary for Work and Pensions before you get any money. And now you've passed on and you don't need it. Tough. The consequence of this is that people who are on benefits stay on benefits. They know that if they take a job it'll take forever to process their claim if their job ends. And these days jobs end rather frequently.So people stay put. Chasing them off the figures with an axe won't work. (Dear HMG - clean up your act before you ask your people to clean up theirs.)
  2. The people who are supposed to help you get a job are too busy trying to keep theirs. I lost my job servicing a DWP contract. One of the major players in "getting people back to work" have been done for fraud. The others are (reputedly) just as bad, and are so concerned about meeting their targets that they are encouraging laughably unsuitable people to "sign off" and thereby come off the unemployment figures. Which is when they get paid.
  3.  After all this fancy footwork, I don't know whether I would employ me either, if I was an employer. I am just a teensy bit of a pain in the arse. I won't stick to things that are cast in stone if those things are a bit naff. And to be honest, in my opinion?:
 A lot of things The System does are a bit naff.
A lot of services appear to exist to continue the service, and not to make any kind of difference at all.
In fact they seem to exist to keep things just the way they are.
Which would be okay if the way they are is good.
But it isn't.
The Western World is in a crisis and the way things are right now is, in a number of ways, pretty shit.
They can continue like this.
But they really, truly shouldn't.

Saturday, 24 March 2012

Malice in Pikeyland

 This morning whilst working the dogs I discovered the following items:-
  An abandoned three litre bottle of white cider. It was still 1/3 (33% or 600 units) full.
I think this must be a reaction to HMG's new guidance on drinking.  
The owner probably realised they had exceeded their units for that particular day. How very responsible of them.
Then I found that the quality of the air, being so full of fog that transformed Earth's atmosphere into that of Venus, meant that sound was carrying for miles . It was like walking in a bell-jar. I heard clear conversations from invisible people who may well have been in the next county.
As I continued along the forest path, suddenly I saw :
Two figures strolling towards me in the distance.
As the gap between us closed one of them looked at me and asked
 "Where are the baths?".
Both chaps were fairly dishevelled and of Jamaican descent, the one who spoke had  a pronounced  accent.
I do not live in a cosmopolitan area.
The only people around here who aren't white are those who don't wash because their baths are full of mephedrone.
So, a strange fog indeed was present this morning , materialising as it did cider, disembodied voices and hopelessly lost Jamaicans.

Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Austin Powers IV: Octopuppys


We all troupe in, looking a bit confused - having eventually found the place-despite the fact that the invitation to interview came with no directions, and according to Google and the satnav this road doesn't  exist.
How very mysterious....
There appears to be this delusion amongst some employers: "We know where we are therefore everyone else will"
Of course it might have simply been part of the interview:
"Client displays initiative:  He found us."
So we go into a sparkling new building (someone has some funding, chaps!)
A "Service User" appears at our table.
He has been, at various times, a "client", a "customer" and according to some  a "useless tosser" but today he's a "service user".
He's a nice lad is Brian. His arms are decorated with so many pictures you wouldn't need a tv set, you'd just sit back with a beer on an evening and read his limbs.
He has alcohol issues, and has been homeless and is very grateful to have a roof over his head.
So, I enquire, by way of conversation "Have you done this before. Helping new job applicants?"
He looks back, furtively
"No. Never. I was only told this morning I'd be doing it"
Brian later tells me that he didn't sleep well the night before.
Thinking it might be because of this new task I ask him why he couldn't sleep
"Oh" he says "I'm going to gaol tomorrow"
I didn't laugh out loud as it would have seemed insensitive.
But let's see...
You're having a batch of disorientated applicants today. Who do you ask to look after them?
"How about this guy. He's never done it before and he's getting banged up tomorrow, let's get him to do it"
Anyway....
The first part of the day:
Q- "In front of you are some pictures of animals. Choose one that represents you."
I look the cards.
It's like Happy Families.
Lovely. I choose a rather attractive muticoloured insect
A- "Look at me, I'm a butterfly flitting from sunbeam to sunbeam in search of yummy pollen wheeeeeeee!"
Everyone looks at me like I am a service user with alcohol issues getting banged up tomorrow.
The candidate opposite me has chosen a rhinoceros. She holds up the card for all to see.
 She is rather young and not at all unattractive.
I wouldn't personally have chosen the blouse she  was wearing for an interview.
It doesn't look like a rhinoceros as much as two small lively puppies fighting in a sack
She looks at me as one would look at a rather naughty poodle.
"I" she begins in a haughty tone "Have chosen a rhinoceros. Is anyone going to ask me why I have chosen this card?"
An idea leaps into my head like a pea popping from a pod.
I know I shouldn't but I just can't say no.
I put up my hand.
She glowers at me , then with some indulgence she says
"So why do you think I am a rhinoceros?" 
I look at her puppies and reply.
"Is it because I make you horrrrny baby?"
 I fear she hasn't got the Austin Powers link so I continue (perhaps unadvisedly)
"Do I make you horny?
Do I?
Do I?"
There is a pause when nobody laughs and magically, out of nowhere a tumbleweed is seen to roll listlessly down the aisle.
The rhino tuts. The tut echoes forever.
"That is the wrong answer" she replies "I am a rhinoceros as I have a very thick skin"
I may have got the job.
Or I may not.
I shall keep you posted.
In the meantime I spotted a lovely dandelion over there.
Must flit.
Toodle-oooh
  

 
 

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Bang Off Target

Ah see how the mighty have fallen
Emma Harrison (CBE) http://emma-harrison.com/ (the Blog on her site doesn't seem very up to date ;)

Darling of the Coalition and of the BBC
(but I'm knocking off and going home for it's almost half-past three)
Your paperwork's all checked and signed
In different hands, but never mind
In another month it'll be forgot
another £8.6m bonus and that's my lot

It's all about targets.
Granted she missed hers (well, A4e did) but she came out pretty canny (as they say oop North)...but that's the funny thing about targets....
Targets are very trendy these days, even in places where they really don't belong.
You can go and see someone, get them signed up to whatever work experience/workfare scheme is current and the client might be:
  1. Annoyed that you're wasting her time
  2. Relieved as she hasn't seen anyone all week and her cat just died and she's feeling bloody awful and needs to offload
  3. You might have some useful information to impart to the client and they might be improved by this meeting
But whichever it is, you get the same signature.
You hit the same target
If you're looking at this mathematically, which we should, as it's supposed to be in some way scientific, then we have to say that if plotted on a graph the values would be all over the shop.
 What would these targets indicate? What would they prove?
You may as well throw dice.
Of course Ms Harrison is only one person. As The Guardian has pointed out her sin was that she allowed herself to become a TV personality, so slinking away silently from the wreck like she was an Italian ferry captain wasn't really an option.
It's not really her fault though is it?
The coalition needed a cheesy Tony Blair type grin and Emma was there to provide it.
There are quite a lot of huge companies working on government contracts spending our money and they are all anonymous. And that's not a coincidence. You become a public face and the public may love you one minute and hate you the next, and they'll certainly be able to throw cabbages at you in the street.
Too recognisable
Can you say the same about the chairman of Group 4? Or Serco?
Targets? They do have value.
In a spiritual sense. But not in the sense that you could get someone to tick a box, leave a box unticked, or forge a tick.
A couple of months ago I was working with some "Service Users with Learning Difficulties".
I took one of them for a cookery session. He attends these sessions regularly.
If there were targets for this client group (there don't seem to be targets for this client group. The idea seems to be that you warehouse them for life in suspended animation) then we could tick that box and meet that target because he attended.
But most of the time when he attended he didn't do any cooking.
He sat still and watched while his staff "minder" did it for him.
But I didn't think Getting Me to Do Everything was such a good idea.
So, here we are: Recipe of the Day.
Your favourite: "Chicken Casserole"
I took a turnip out of the bag.
A turnip has many characteristics.
It is pretty large, after all when I was little there weren't any pumpkins and we used to hollow them out for lanterns. They are irregular and inelegant. They roll about a lot. They are also pretty solid.
We need a good solid piece of cutlery for this...
So I started looking for a knife to cut the turnip.
The knife drawer was full of cheap blunt knives with blades that were so thin the would bend when you breathed on them.
"Oh" the voice of the supervisor sounded helpfully behind me
"We don't have sharp knives. For Health and Safety reasons, you know. We don't want anyone getting hurt"
How anyone with poor motor skills, a wandering attention span and anxiety issues was supposed to carve up this cannonball of a vegetable using a knife that would struggle to cut soup wasn't explained.
But he did it. I found a blade hiding at the back of the drawer and properly supervised as he did it. And the rest.
I was told that this was the most that he has ever done.
And that wasn't surprising.
It's usually  much easier to do something for someone, that to get them to do it for themselves, but of course they learn nothing.
As this group of Service Users is not meant to learn anything nobody cares about targets anyway, but if they did, the target would be that they turned up. What they did, and the quality of what was done, would not have been considered.
Oh, and they wouldn't have been consulted much either, come audit time.
As long as we can tick the service user involvement box the job's done.
The quality of the involvement is a bit Will O The Wisp, really.
Oh and the next day I asked the Service User if he enjoyed the chicken casserole.
Without looking at me he replied "It went in the bin"
"In the bin?" I asked "Why on earth did it go in the bin?"
Still not looking at me he answered
"Well I hate chicken casserole"