Here is the beginning of the story I trialled earlier, I'll continue the posts once I work out where to cut the next section. This is a prelude to the story itself, I hope you like it.
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Prologue - Smythe's Journal entry - Sunday 3:45 pm - 05 Jan (2044 DRAFT ONLY)
It is not rare that I feel the need to impart my experiences, along with a little of my wisdom, on these pages and I have no doubt I have touched upon today's topic before. However, a lesson repeated is one harder to unlearn and, as you know, I would be remiss if I allowed a good exemplum go to waste.
Today was spent in a meeting with a man whose mind simply was not on the business at hand. Our discussion took near double the amount of time it should have done because he insisted on bringing up the fact it was a Sunday and he had other things to do. For some reason the day of the week gave these matters precedence.
Now, I am not blind to the concepts of the week, and the weekend, though I pay them little mind,. I am also aware that the availability of spouses, family and friends is increased at the weekend. However, this is all the more reason to focus! If a task requires an hour on a Sunday then do it in an hour, less if you can. Do not, as this man did, dance around the subject. Some things can wait until Monday, some things are best discussed at other times, and I am well aware of that; I neither waste my time nor my energy on things that do not need to be done nor do I draw someone into a discussion that does not need to occur!
So my lesson is this: when working, especially when called to work at a time when other matters are pressing, attend doubly to dispatching it. waste neither your time nor anyone else’s! I estimate this man was away from those he had intended to spend time with for almost an hour longer than was necessary and it was entirely his own fault. I would have understood a brief pause at the beginning of the call to allow him to explain to those present the importance of the discussion he was having and that he would deal with it, swiftly and successfully, forthwith. The alternative consisted of several interruptions, constant references to the time and his utter lack of command off the facts at hand (again, somehow brought on by the day of the week). What would have been unacceptable at any other time was equally so earlier today and doubly costly.
As an aside, I must say this is a more pleasant issue to deal with than the office machismo that had hung around male dominated workplaces of the past like a bad smell. The pressure to arrive early, stay late, work lunch and constantly justify one's own existence was exhausting simply for one looking on it from the outside and I have no doubt it took its toll on the poor bastards who bought into it. Were I to interrogate the productivity of said individuals I am sure their results would have been impressive but I am equally sure they could have accomplished so much more. To buy into such group-thinking takes time and energy better spent on the task at hand.
I digress. As for today's meeting I myself could spare the time and more to boot (for example I am writing this in the late afternoon rather than near midnight as is usual) due to the tardiness of my man who, I would wager, is also tied up with ‘weekend pursuits’. Fortunately, I am a man of focus and I have prepared his tasks in anticipation of this. I am sure he will be keen to return to his day as quickly as possible and will also be suitably focused when he arrives.
No doubt today's final meeting will extend into tomorrow as we shall strive to complete business before the eastern markets open. That being the case I shall write on those developments tomorrow.
[Final entry in this journal. Several blank pages remain]
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Prologue cont. - Drawing Room 4:17 pm. Same day.
“Roberts. Finally!” exclaims Smythe, “Good. We can get to work.”
“Good evening, sir. As you requested I drafted the documents on the way here.”
“So you rushed them then. Well, I'll add reviewing and redrafting them to the list of tasks I have prepared for you.”
Roberts stiffens as the older man scratches at the bottom of a sheet of paper on the counter, twists it towards him and jabs his finger at the top.
“Start there.” Another jab. “I will be in my office attending to the characters of the people I will be meeting tomorrow. I need this completed and at my disposal for review before 6pm. My door will be ajar for your queries. Bring them to me! I'll not have the usual deadline debacle tonight!”
I will not, thinks Roberts, and we will.
He watches as the older man stalks to his office down the short ground floor hallway in near darkness, only turning on a small desk lamp when he gets there. He sees the meagre glow become a mere sliver as the door is pushed to closed then, purposefully, opened about six centimetres. That's it, he sighs, work needs to be done.
His own office was an afterthought, typical of his boss. When he had come to work for the old man over twelve years ago there was only this house; just rooms, no offices. The cranky bastard had given him a pile of papers to digitise, an expense account and an empty room off the kitchen with its only window at street level. During the following years he had been provided all of the furniture and equipment he needed and installed all of it himself. But every bit of it he had crammed into that small room.
As Roberts crosses the kitchen into his office he checks his tablet. One message, from his wife. Just sending her love and telling him the children were all fine.
The woman is a saint, he thinks. How ironic, what with me working for the devil...
Hiya Steven. Straight away I'm drawn to the likeness of Ebeneezer Scrooge and Bob Cratchet. I think it's the strictness of the old man, his attitude of everything being black and white, saving a minute in the hour, time-watching. He sees every minute spent away from work as a waste of time. His character and personality come across brilliantly. I got a bit confused reading the diary section because I didn't know who he was talking about or if he was the boss. But it was all made clear in the Drawing room section. Good read, keep going.