As another weekend draws to an untimely end, 35 hours of soul destroying tedium circles through your conscious like a corporate feathered vulture. Sunday's television schedule does little to distract you from the thoughts of a job that you once donned your finest suit to secure, and here, in a moment of depressing clarity is the realisation that, "this is your life." Instead of a red book filled with your greatest feats and wittiest one-liners, the best that you can achieve is two pages of Arial 11 point detailing your employment history and one or two hobbies that you added in a desperate attempt to make it sound as though you were a true team player and not the mis-anthropic, work-hating malcontent that you actually are.

If this sounds familiar then fear not, you are not alone. The Daily Grindstone is here to help you through the perils of employment and give weight to your long held belief that, despite the hype, work just isn't that great. So... make another cup of tea (remember that a full kettle takes longer to boil and can add minutes to your break), get comfortable, and prepare to adjust the scales of the work-life balance a little more in your favour.

Friday, 18 March 2011

Give me relief from Comic Relief

Unless you are lucky enough to work from home or are unfortunate enough to be blinded to the colour red, you should know that today is Comic Relief. Whilst few of us could find fault with helping the needy, the manner in which office charity days aim to wrench money from our pocket can be a little grating to the sensibilities. I am not arguing that altruism should be confined to the privacy of an anonymous bank transfer, but I am questioning whether it is entirely necessary for me to endure another hour of forced reversion to sado masochistic childhood as yet another balding middle aged man waxes his legs in the name of philanthropy.

Whilst the end result should be applauded (and yes I do donate) Comic Relief's tag-line "Do something funny for money," is inherently flawed. Adults of a working age who are in a position to do something funny for money are called "Comedians" and have worked long and hard to establish what is funny and what is simply a half hearted act of non-committal by a monotonous bore. If we were to change the tag line to, "Do some brain surgery for money," would office clerks still feel qualified to assume this role?

It maybe that my concept of humour differs from that of my colleagues, but try as I may, I have been unable to find the punch line in spraying my hair red. If only we could use a small proportion of the money raised to educate our employees in the time honoured craft of comedy, I am sure that we could avoid the muscle damage that arises from contorting our face into an uncomfortable cringe as the wacky receptionist declares that they will, once again, bathe in a bath of cold baked beans.

Despite the well intentioned aims of the office charity day, I prefer my philanthropy served private. Although I may be averse to watching the mock-humiliation of my workmates, I do not wish to belittle the efforts of anybody who has given up their time raising money for Comic Relief. Like much of the Daily Grindstone my words should be taken with a heaped tablespoon of salt. Should the taste be unpleasant, I am happy for readers to spit them out without any concern of offending.

If you wish to donate to Comic Relief and mercifully cannot think of anything 'funny to do for money,' please visit:

1 comment:

  1. So you're not going to dye your hair red then? That's a shame. That would have REALLY made me laugh.