Okay. I think I've navigated my way through the Nasty. The Nasty in question being getting a purchase order out of our financial folks for a Quality screwup. What made it doubly Nasty was that bloody Anarchist Prime went to Mr Big instead of going to the Human Resources and Business Manager. The latter is, I know from personal experience, understanding when it comes to cockups. The former is an unknown quantity.
Fortunately, I think that the fact that I am a mere underling (and managed not to show signs of responsibility for said cockup, even though I have at least some) protected me from wrath.
Never let it be said that Anarchist Prime was a complete and total waste of space. *evil grin*
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Incompetence again
Anarchist Prime strikes again. He'd asked me to get some changes made to artwork for a product. The changes are necessary, but the procedures of our printers mean that we need to raise a purchase order to get them done. (They get tired of having their time wasted - I know how they feel!) Anarchist Prime told me he was going to sort out the purchase order. Of course, he didn't bother to actually do anything about it - oh, no. That would be too much like actual competence. Useless turd.
Friday, 25 July 2008
Advice to a certain major pharmaceuticals company
Who shall go nameless here.
To whit: Don't lose your master packaging artwork files. It's not the job of the company you have a contract with to keep this stuff for you, and you're bloody lucky that I do keep copies of absolutely everything anybody ever gives me. One of these days, somebody is going to decide that, because it isn't their job to keep track of this stuff, they will simply get rid of it. Then you'll be in serious trouble.
To whit: Don't lose your master packaging artwork files. It's not the job of the company you have a contract with to keep this stuff for you, and you're bloody lucky that I do keep copies of absolutely everything anybody ever gives me. One of these days, somebody is going to decide that, because it isn't their job to keep track of this stuff, they will simply get rid of it. Then you'll be in serious trouble.
Crankypants
One of these days I am going to give in to the temptation to lecture assorted members of management - particularly those who have responsibilities in the field of contract manufactures that don't require time in a cleanroom - on the proper care and treatment of the Document Control Officer.
When you ask her to issue a batch document, for example, it should be in with all the other batch documents she issues, even if it is for a trial batch. It should not be in some mysterious location, with an equally mysterious file name, elsewhere in the system. She should not be forced to do a keyword search through the contents of each and every file in the system - which takes hours - in order to find the thing.
That situation should not be compounded by the disappearance of each and every single person who knows anything about the situation for an hour or so. This does not make for a happy Document Control Officer.
Also, there should only be one copy of it available for me to access. I should not have to use guesswork to figure out which document I should be bloody issuing!
When you ask her to issue a batch document, for example, it should be in with all the other batch documents she issues, even if it is for a trial batch. It should not be in some mysterious location, with an equally mysterious file name, elsewhere in the system. She should not be forced to do a keyword search through the contents of each and every file in the system - which takes hours - in order to find the thing.
That situation should not be compounded by the disappearance of each and every single person who knows anything about the situation for an hour or so. This does not make for a happy Document Control Officer.
Also, there should only be one copy of it available for me to access. I should not have to use guesswork to figure out which document I should be bloody issuing!
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Faces blank, mouths shut.
Repeat to self: Must not giggle in front of Mr Big.
Some time ago, Mr Big said something to the Office Gossip (who is also project managing the facility upgrade, very much against his will) about blocking out the upper windows in order to reduce the glare and heat in summer. This was evidently interpreted as "blacking" out the upper windows, and is being carried out now, as I type. Literally. They are putting black vinyl on the upper windows.
We were in the tea room whilst the workman was doing some of this. Mr Big came in and saw the results. He wasn't entirely happy with it. He'd forgotten all about the conversation he'd had with the Office Gossip, and didn't look (or sound) too impressed with the...blackness...of the results. He looked a little amused, fortunately. But the rest of us were still left stifling grins and giggles like crazy.
And the results will be worth it - everybody will be able to see their computers properly, and nobody will die from heat exhaustion this summer. (Okay. I am exaggerating. A bit.)
Some time ago, Mr Big said something to the Office Gossip (who is also project managing the facility upgrade, very much against his will) about blocking out the upper windows in order to reduce the glare and heat in summer. This was evidently interpreted as "blacking" out the upper windows, and is being carried out now, as I type. Literally. They are putting black vinyl on the upper windows.
We were in the tea room whilst the workman was doing some of this. Mr Big came in and saw the results. He wasn't entirely happy with it. He'd forgotten all about the conversation he'd had with the Office Gossip, and didn't look (or sound) too impressed with the...blackness...of the results. He looked a little amused, fortunately. But the rest of us were still left stifling grins and giggles like crazy.
And the results will be worth it - everybody will be able to see their computers properly, and nobody will die from heat exhaustion this summer. (Okay. I am exaggerating. A bit.)
Friday, 11 July 2008
General Information Dump
I can rely on the Office Gossip to tell me what I probably need to know, especially when I lack confidence in Anarchist Prime to remember to pass on the relevant pieces of information. We're shuffling offices again, and this time, I'm included.
I shall be sharing an office, at least temporarily, with the server. This is fine by me. The server will have a new home, and the Office Gossip was kind enough to do a show and tell for me, explaining how it will all go.
My main source of stress last night involved the server, and a serious lack of information. I'd heard a rumour about my moving, and had overheard something which may (or, as it turns out, may not) have included moving the server. As I have an administrative password for the system (and am possibly the only person within the company who has bothered to remember same), I feel a bit...proprietorial about the server. Another factor is that our IT contractor and I had an informal chat about risk management and the server, and I know exactly how dreadful it would be if the server went down. (For us, it's the second worst thing that could happen to the company, barring fire or flood related destruction. There are almost certainly better IT people out there whose abilities could reduce the risk from major to moderate, but he's the one we've got.)
I shall have to have a chat with our IT person about getting some switches or something to give me some more elbow room in there, but that shouldn't be a problem. As long as I don't have to share the office with that bloody Xerox, I'll be happy enough.
The Office Gossip was able to tell me a couple of other things (apart from letting slip the news about my moving offices) too. Such as how Anarchist Prime's opposite number in production is working in Brisbane for 6 months before moving to Canberra, and how the new QA manager is starting at the end of this month.
So now I know.
Happy now.
I shall be sharing an office, at least temporarily, with the server. This is fine by me. The server will have a new home, and the Office Gossip was kind enough to do a show and tell for me, explaining how it will all go.
My main source of stress last night involved the server, and a serious lack of information. I'd heard a rumour about my moving, and had overheard something which may (or, as it turns out, may not) have included moving the server. As I have an administrative password for the system (and am possibly the only person within the company who has bothered to remember same), I feel a bit...proprietorial about the server. Another factor is that our IT contractor and I had an informal chat about risk management and the server, and I know exactly how dreadful it would be if the server went down. (For us, it's the second worst thing that could happen to the company, barring fire or flood related destruction. There are almost certainly better IT people out there whose abilities could reduce the risk from major to moderate, but he's the one we've got.)
I shall have to have a chat with our IT person about getting some switches or something to give me some more elbow room in there, but that shouldn't be a problem. As long as I don't have to share the office with that bloody Xerox, I'll be happy enough.
The Office Gossip was able to tell me a couple of other things (apart from letting slip the news about my moving offices) too. Such as how Anarchist Prime's opposite number in production is working in Brisbane for 6 months before moving to Canberra, and how the new QA manager is starting at the end of this month.
So now I know.
Happy now.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Silly little details.
We got our new licence to manufacture today, with the appropriate names on it (Anarchist Prime and The Grand Visier's names, to be precise). It had a nice little cover letter basically saying, "here's your new licence, please send us the old one back as soon as possible." It was addressed to Ms Anarchist Prime. Anarchist Prime, if you've been paying attention to my previous posts, is, in fact male.
He's taken it with good humour. Our Reg Affairs associate and I both told him that the cover letter with the returned licences should be pointedly signed Mr Anarchist Prime. He actually needed to be convinced!
At any rate, we now have a cross-gendered Quality Director - at least on paper. lol!
He's taken it with good humour. Our Reg Affairs associate and I both told him that the cover letter with the returned licences should be pointedly signed Mr Anarchist Prime. He actually needed to be convinced!
At any rate, we now have a cross-gendered Quality Director - at least on paper. lol!
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Company?
If any real-life company was as bad as the 'case study' one in that training course we're doing at the moment, they would have lost their licence to manufacture - assuming, of course, that they weren't already in jail for killing somebody. I mean, I know it's just an example used for training purposes, but sheesh!
Monday, 7 July 2008
A massive sigh of relief
Anarchist Prime does have his reasonable moments. I think I should point that out, given the bad rap he's received in this blog recently.
You see, I, along with everybody else here at work, am up to my ears in online training on GMP. I, as the Document Control Officer, have to complete the modules on GMP, GLP, and Validation. This is fine. One of the features of a good DCO is that she has a good working knowledge and understanding of everything that goes on in the company.
I have completed the GMP module, and almost completed the GLP module (I have one case study left to wrestle with). I'm now up to the Validation module. This is the problem module, because Validations is my personal all-time-favourite insomnia cure.
So, this morning, with a bare week left on the clock to get through 7 units, I went and had a quick chat with Anarchist Prime. Fortunately, he had already realised that those of us who were not members of Production were having a few problems getting through the training in the allotted time span of one month (this, of course, is on top of our already-loaded work schedules. More arduous for the others than for me, but even I'm having troubles!). He told me that he'd like to see it all done by the time we are audited next in August, which I think is fair enough.
You see, I, along with everybody else here at work, am up to my ears in online training on GMP. I, as the Document Control Officer, have to complete the modules on GMP, GLP, and Validation. This is fine. One of the features of a good DCO is that she has a good working knowledge and understanding of everything that goes on in the company.
I have completed the GMP module, and almost completed the GLP module (I have one case study left to wrestle with). I'm now up to the Validation module. This is the problem module, because Validations is my personal all-time-favourite insomnia cure.
So, this morning, with a bare week left on the clock to get through 7 units, I went and had a quick chat with Anarchist Prime. Fortunately, he had already realised that those of us who were not members of Production were having a few problems getting through the training in the allotted time span of one month (this, of course, is on top of our already-loaded work schedules. More arduous for the others than for me, but even I'm having troubles!). He told me that he'd like to see it all done by the time we are audited next in August, which I think is fair enough.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
Yet another nickname
There is no rhyme or rhythm to it sometimes. With some people, I cannot come up with an apt nickname to save my life. Other people get several.
Anarchist Prime reveals more and more aspects of his personality, all of them supplying apt nicknames, as I get to know him more. The latest aspect has revealed a hell of a lot about him, and thrown up a nickname that is simply too good not to share. It comes courtesy of my friend, work colleague, and fellow sufferer, Magicke: Little Fish.
Why? He's bought himself a new car: a Mercedes 4wd. A Toorak Tractor. A big, fat, petrol-guzzling, resources-wasting piece of off-roader that will probably never see so much as a puddle across the whole of its entire life.
He's already spent quite a lot of his time trying to cover up his mistakes (and failing). Covering up his mistakes usually involves the rest of us lying for him, making excuses, and generally taking the rap. And none of us are willing to do that.
Little Fish is trying to be a Big Fish - or a bigger fish than the fishes around him. Unfortunately, the little fish sharing the pond with him have a nasty habit of turning into piranha. And we all know what piranha do to things larger than them when they get hungry.
Anarchist Prime reveals more and more aspects of his personality, all of them supplying apt nicknames, as I get to know him more. The latest aspect has revealed a hell of a lot about him, and thrown up a nickname that is simply too good not to share. It comes courtesy of my friend, work colleague, and fellow sufferer, Magicke: Little Fish.
Why? He's bought himself a new car: a Mercedes 4wd. A Toorak Tractor. A big, fat, petrol-guzzling, resources-wasting piece of off-roader that will probably never see so much as a puddle across the whole of its entire life.
He's already spent quite a lot of his time trying to cover up his mistakes (and failing). Covering up his mistakes usually involves the rest of us lying for him, making excuses, and generally taking the rap. And none of us are willing to do that.
Little Fish is trying to be a Big Fish - or a bigger fish than the fishes around him. Unfortunately, the little fish sharing the pond with him have a nasty habit of turning into piranha. And we all know what piranha do to things larger than them when they get hungry.
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
New faces.
Some time ago (must be a good month or two by now), I would have reported that Mr Big has gone up in the world. Well, they had been interviewing for his replacement for a while now, and have come to a satisfactory conclusion.
Mr Big's successor popped his nose into the office today (he hasn't officially started, and I had heard no scuttlebutt at all about his appointment). I happened to be sitting in Anarchist Prime's office, waiting for him to sort through the stuff he had to do "before I forget" so that we could get on with the stuff he wanted me to assist with. One of the distractions he faced was the visit of Mr Big's successor, leading to the inevitable corridor chat between said successor, Mr Big, and Anarchist Prime.
Fortunately, it seems that if you can catch Anarchist Prime in a good mood, he'll answer questions about who the man chatting with Mr Big about house hunting in Canberra is.
I'm rather happy about this - one of the problems we've all had to deal with (indirectly) is that Anarchist Prime has not had an opposite number in Production. So, now he does. Will he inherit the title of 'Emperor of Production' from his predecessor? Time will tell. Like it or not, eavesdropping on a single corridor conversation of the nature mentioned above is simply not enough to see what sort of personality he has, and therefore is not enough to say what nickname he'll get from me.
Mr Big's successor popped his nose into the office today (he hasn't officially started, and I had heard no scuttlebutt at all about his appointment). I happened to be sitting in Anarchist Prime's office, waiting for him to sort through the stuff he had to do "before I forget" so that we could get on with the stuff he wanted me to assist with. One of the distractions he faced was the visit of Mr Big's successor, leading to the inevitable corridor chat between said successor, Mr Big, and Anarchist Prime.
Fortunately, it seems that if you can catch Anarchist Prime in a good mood, he'll answer questions about who the man chatting with Mr Big about house hunting in Canberra is.
I'm rather happy about this - one of the problems we've all had to deal with (indirectly) is that Anarchist Prime has not had an opposite number in Production. So, now he does. Will he inherit the title of 'Emperor of Production' from his predecessor? Time will tell. Like it or not, eavesdropping on a single corridor conversation of the nature mentioned above is simply not enough to see what sort of personality he has, and therefore is not enough to say what nickname he'll get from me.
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