This morning, a former colleague of mine, from the employer I hated, texted me on LinkedIn, asking me about the password to access a platform we used sometimes. As I always got along well with him, he was not asking for much and I wanted to be on good terms (you never know), I got back to him and gave him what he wanted. But next time, if there is a next time, I think I might just ignore any call for assistance. I no longer work for them, I don't need to waste my time on such queries and I have no obligation, legal, moral or otherwise. Still, it felt strange to hear from him and it just struck me that I really don't miss the old office. It also struck me that this call for assistance was symptomatic of the office politics there: disorganised, unable to solve things by themselves or take initiatives, delegating whenever there was any problem or whenever they could not be bothered to do something tedious. Can't find a password? Don't ask IT, ask the guy who set it up in the first place! If I ever find my current job or indeed any future job difficult, I just need to remember the years spent in that madhouse.
Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
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