Right here and now I’d like to make it crystal clear I’m not a New South Wales Government employee. I can confess to trying like the blazes a few years back to become one, but fate had other plans and I failed miserably, probably not proceeding beyond that horribly named Human Resource process known as “culling”. I put it down to not selling myself too well or failing to over embellish my achievements: a Gen X pommie thing where it’s seen as hubris to talk yourself up. Australians call the phenomenon “bignoting”. Inflate what you’ve done in flowery language to appear impressive and worthy. From my jaundiced perspective it seems accepted as a useful weapon within Generation Y’s arsenal these days. I fail to understand if they wield that weapon cynically or the use is just accepted as a given. In an age where it is not politically correct to be seen to discriminate on the basis of age it becomes a way HR can locate older applicants and herd them off for culling….
But this one escaped the abattoir. Purely by an accident of history I do possess a particular niche skill-set my chosen Government department has decided they have need of. They are prepared to pay a handsome premium to bring me in, on occasion, to look after certain projects – sometimes for years at a time. Don’t get me started on the stagnant philosophy or the flawed economic reasons behind their approach but, suffice to say, I give them the best value I can and take personal ownership of my projects. They pay me far too much and yet sometimes, not enough, if that makes sense?
The abattoir can wait for a while.
Site meetings, made civilised by decent coffee
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