Derek. The people who worked with Derek knew that there was something wrong with him when it became clear that he could no longer make decisions - and because his job was principally that of decision maker, it soon became an problem. His staff submitted the usual reports and recommendations and it was for Derek to take things along in the way he thought best - but he could not make a decision on even minor aspects of the work. Finally, after complaints, he was summoned to meet the HR director and assured him that he was fine - he was in good health and apart from a lingering sore-throat, he had never felt fitter. And then he became seriously ill and was away from the office for several months. When he returned his large, airy office, with a view of the Tyne Bridge had been allocated to the person now doing his job. He was gently shown into his new office; a plain box-like room at the back of the building. The actual owner of the firm, who normally didn’t get involved in staff issues put a hand on Derek’s shoulder and told him that the firm wanted to use his wide knowledge of the market for planning future ‘strategic action.’ He was given a rather grand - but meaningless - title, and told that he could keep the car etc etc. He had just four years to run before retirement, and the firm was being kind. Derek became thinner and paler. His suits hung loosely, a perpetual weak smile and a nodding in agreement at whatever was being said. He would stand at his window and look down at the car-park below and ask himself: ‘Does it matter that I tried so hard…does it matter if my wife comes back or not…does it matter that no one - not a single person - has ever understood me?
Posted on: Mon, 02 Dec 2013 17:21:45 +0000
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