Curse me and my bloody upbringing, I just can’t rock the boat, even when I try. Even when I want to.
Today is a case in point, in my dull office job we are having people coming round to assess our “workstations” for chair types/postions, way we’re sat etc. Now, The chair i’m on here at work is shit, I can’t adjust it properly, I can NEVER get the right level of comfort between hands on keyboard and eyes towards the monitor
But today we had people actually coming round to check on our positioning.
I heard them at the other desks, we’re going to have to get you a new chair here, a backrest there. What wil they say about me?
Finally, my turn. I get resolutedly slated for everything I already know is wrong, not that I’m to blame and nor do they blame me. But I felt the guilt nevertheless, surely I hsould have kicked up a fuss about feeling uncomfortable? Surely I should use one of my right of being a office working human being.
Well, yes, I should, but I get panic attacks in Sainsburys and frankly making a fuss goes against my entire ethos.
But here I’m being the chance to have a fuss amnesty, I’m allowed to make a fuss about this and no one bats an eyelid. It’s like I can use this as a catalyst of all the fusses I’ve never made. This can truly get the fuss out of my system.
But so far, I’m failing to take the bait, they suggest I new chair, I agree to their suggestion, hardly the fussiest way of making a fuss ever – agreeing to a suggestion. I doubt the Brixton Riots were started that way… Although “What to we want, When do we want it” chants could be seen this way.
Though now, almost as if they could see my pent up fuss, I was given a lifeline.,
“Terry, do you find that you get back pains?” she asks, almost with that wink as if to say ‘ere’s where you fuss
“Yes ” I reply, unfussylike.
“And do you find that these back pains have gotten worse since you started here?” Now a wink and a click and hand gestures from her.
The truth is that I do fucking get back pain and it’s gotten much much worse since sitting here in this archaic horrible desk/chair set up here. I actually get home in slight pain. Not only do I now have the opportunity to make a fuss, but I have an actual reason to fucking fuss. So here it is, my chance, my moment in the spotlight… And what do I chuffing say?
“No, not really, it’s fine really.”
I don’t deserve the breath of life.