Last week we went on a ‘team building exercise’.
The senior managers go on this shit all the time. Sometimes it is to a flash hotel overlooking the city lights, others an island on the Whitsundays. On one of these junkets they decided that in order to lift moral they should throw a few shekels the way of the people that actually do the fucking work and send us all on a day out.
A day to let us get to know ourselves and each other a little better. With free food and a little OMFG WE ARE DOING WHAT NOW? thrown in for good measure.
The memo sent out stated it was ‘rustic’ and to wear comfortable shoes.
So I wore jeans, a lacy top and these adorable cute little Mary Janes with red stitching. That totally went with my bag.
And a wrap. You know, for just in case we had to stand around outside waiting for the bus or something. It IS winter after all.
I need to interrupt this tale to say, I grew up in the city. I live in the country, but I am a city girl. I don’t do ‘dirty’ or ‘rustic’ or ‘camping’ or ‘instant coffee’ or any of that sort of thing. Roughing it to me is a 4 star hotel…
So anyway, we all pile into a bus and drive the hour or so to our destination.
We drive up a dirt road and I look out the window and quip ‘Oh THERE it is!’ pointing to a tin shed with no walls on three sides. I am giggling as I turn to my workmates and they all look at me like I have lost my mind and tell me that yes, it is and why are you grinning like a loon?
The look of complete abject horror on my face sent the bus load of officeworkers that have lived in the country for their entire lives into hysterics. One even choked on her own spit.
Cause she is classy like that.
We piled out of the bus, I am still thinking this is a horrible joke when the doors open and I see plastic garden furniture set up in the required U shape of our meeting room.
Wood chips on the floor. Tin roof with SKULLS of DEAD ANIMALS hanging along with rusty dangerous looking (what I surmised) farm equipment. A fucking DANCE FLOOR in the corner and plastic mugs next to a jar of generic brand instant coffee.
I. Am. In. Hell.
There is plastic up against the walls, blowing in the arctic winds and a huge fireplace the size of my lounge room burning with a fucking TREE in it.
Our senior manager is running around taking photos of everyone – probably as proof we turned up – and every single pic is of me looking at the roof. Checking for spiders.
By now my feet are iceblocks. My wrap is wound around my body and the only source of warmth is the forest ablaze near the door or *shudder* instant coffee. The trainer smiles sweetly and informs us we are about to take a personality test.
By now I am ready to cut a bitch, but I do the test and answer the questions the way I know they want them answered and I come out as an introvert people pleaser and pray that someone, anyone will come and save me from this horror.
Or at least has some rum to take away the pain.
We have lunch – apparently that is what they called the slop – and then are informed that we are to take on MORE work with less time and hey, we are getting new desks! Half the size of the ones we have.
Oh fuck me dead. What?
But the true horror was to come.
A team building exercise.
I was teamed up with 3 others, one of which is the girl that sits near me that never ever stops eating. And likes to pretend that she knows what she is talking about by talking really loudly over everyone just regurgitating what someone else has said.
We had to throw an egg without breaking it using straws, string, balloons, tape and paper.
I designed an aerodynamic tee-pee construction with the egg tightly wrapped in tape with a cushioning lightly inflated balloon inside. It was fucking awesome.
The others tied fully inflated balloons to it to make it float.
And fucker face stuffing idea stealing bitch told the manager that she designed the aerodynamic tee pee of awesome.
I lost my fucking shit. In a professional way of course.
And now she is not speaking to me.
So, despite the freezing ninja arachnid infested instant coffee OMFG say what are we doing now personality testing floor covered in bark that could totally catch fire if the forest rolled out of the loungeroom sized fire pit 8 hours sitting on garden furniture, I think the day was a success.
Now if I could only get the bitch to close her mouth while her face is in the food trough, life would be totally sweet.