One step beyond

Last day of corporate life - goodbyes said, thank you cards read, tears shed. Now on to greater things, or at least a barbecue and a few glasses of cider.

People keep asking me how I feel. I feel busy. Or buzzy, as Mr B puts it. As much as I enjoy a chargrilled burger, a cool drink and a small child smearing me in damp rose petals ("Do you like my perfume, mummy? Why don't you want it on your tights?"), I can't relax if I'm not buzzing around making plans and compiling lists and writing web copy and creating design briefs for WordFire's visual identity. I'm not exactly going to be sitting around watching Jeremy Kyle and eating doughnuts.

But why not? This is my big chance to do nothing of any particular value for as long as I like. How fantastic!

How tedious. Now I won't be wasting my days working for someone else, there is so much I can do to fill my time:

1. I will read a novel every week.
2. I will meet a friend for lunch every Wednesday.
3. I will...

Hang on, Buzzy Ju. This is real life now. Why set targets for things that are supposed to be fun? Make a list, by all means, but make it aspirational. Hell, make it inspirational. Find the river. How do I really want to spend my time?

1. I want to read as many novels as I can. My Kindle will be loved.
2. I want to gossip over morning coffee, have long leisurely lunches and chatty teatimes and candlelit dinners. Maybe all on the same day.
3. In order to sustain Point 2, I want to join the gym,stay upright in Zumba classes, raise my weights in Body Pump, jog in the early morning mists, lose half a stone and feel brighter, fresher, fitter.
4. I want to say, "Yes, why not?" more often to Monkeyrina and Mr B. Even if it means what I'd planned to do that moment isn't done until later.
5. I want to keep in better touch with my friends, via whatever medium they prefer. Even if it's by phone.
6. I want to make new friends. The world is full of fascinating people.
7. I want to watch TV shows I've never seen before. Jeremy Kyle excepted.
8. I want to make time for Mr B. Parallel laptops is nice, but so is actually speaking to each other.
9. I want to do things I don't want to do. It's usually for the best.
10. I want to stay passionate and excited and committed to WordFire, so that I can stand up and say "This is mine. This is what I made. This is what I am."

 That seems like a life worth living to me.

A place in the world

Scene 3: Redundant Manager finishes her work and parental duties for the evening and sits down to read her emails. She has a message from a librarian friend responding to the Seth Grobin link she sent him earlier. She also has messages about her reading group and the deputy chair of the community committee she's involved with, about an event she's helping with next weekend. She's a little surprised that the mayor hasn't sent her regular email about local initiatives. She has a text from a guy she knows from the gym who might have some work for her. She considers a colleague's suggestion for her company name, at once so obvious and so effective. Then she goes to the pub for a gossip with her friend, and asks after the barman's kids. She goes home and does the washing up with her husband.

Redundant Manager realises that she might be redundant as a manager but not as a person.

Taking on a silent role

Work is strange when your role is redundant and you're biding your time. It’s a little like being in a play.

Scene 1: a group of managers is meeting to discuss strategy. Enter Redundant Manager One. This is a silent role. The discussion continues.

In some ways, it’s liberating. Management information? Delete! Business plans? Delete! Any email headed “Implementation plan”? Transfer to the junk folder. Remove my name from all circulation lists because soon I won’t be here.

But when won’t I be here? That uncertainty is not liberating at all. There are procedures and negotiations and consultations. There are handovers and meetings and occasional communications. There is gossip and sadness and hollow emptiness. Everyone likes to feel useful, to have a place in the world, to make a contribution, and to suddenly have no contribution to make – or at least to have a contribution that is not required or appreciated – well, it’s a little demoralising.

But we’re here for inspiration, are we not? We must rouse ourselves and swim down the river before we are dragged beneath its choppy waters and make our mascara run and our artfully blowdried hair go flat.

And so, into our institutionalised corporate lives comes some exciting news – one corner of the canteen is becoming a Costa coffee bar and the site shop will close for a few days and reopen as a Londis. (What else can be privatised? Desks, sponsored by Ikea. Loos, sponsored by DynoRod.) This really does count as exciting on a campus where Explorer 6 is cutting edge technology. A sign on the shop door explains that stock will be temporarily relocated and ends:

“We sincerely apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused”

And here, from this awkwardly phrased statement, came my inspiration for the day. Attempts to sound official rarely communicate any more clearly than if the writer had just expressed it as they would say it. Do we need all these words? (Don't answer that, reader.) If I had the job of writing the sign, how would I have expressed it? My critic’s mind clicked into position and off it went:

• "We sincerely and unreservedly extend our apologies for any inconvenience that our actions might cause, directly or indirectly, to you or your associates at any time, either at the present time or at an as-yet unspecified future point."
• “Sorry about this.”
• "We apologise if you don't like these changes. We're not too keen on them either but sometimes you just have to put up or shut up."

So many apologies, so much to be sorry for. Is it an empty, automatic stock phrase or are companies so afraid of their customers that they have to make excuses for improvements to their service?

• "Why should we apologise for bringing you filtered coffee and a proper newsagent?" 

But, on the other hand, acknowledging potential difficulties is strong reputation management. But some methods are better than others. There's really only one solution:

• "We're sorry if you find these changes inconvenient, but we're confident that our great new facilities will make up for it."

Which takes me back to the start. 

Scene 2: Redundant Manager One is in a meeting with Big Boss.

Big Boss: We're sorry if you find these changes inconvenient, but we're confident that our great new structure will more than make up for it.

Redundant Manager One remains silent. She has a lot to say.