Don't let them eat.
That's right!
No teabreak. Yes it's written into the company policy that there are 2 teatimes and a lunch time EVERY day but in reality, this is not compulsory. In fact, it is actually a treat if you let them eat.
Examples: as receptionist, I only got 3 lunchbreaks a week. Teatimes were non-existent as I'd have to listen for the phone from the kitchen while trying to toast sandwiches. Upon getting back to my desk, I'd have to choke the sandwiches down because I'd not even get a chance to eat them - the phone/door would ring non-stop.
Lunch times... ok coupled with non-existent teabreaks, Mondays and Thursdays were an ordeal: sitting at the frontdesk for the whole day. The only "break" was to go to the toilet. It was a mission enough trying to find someone to listen to the phone so that I could even go to the toilet.
But now. Different position. "admin assistant" doing PA work (for "admin assitant" pay because not having the "PA" title means I don't have to be paid as much...):
It is 11:10. I wasn't able to get a break to eat at 10:30 (teatime) because I was typing minutes. I am in the kitchen toasting my 3 slices of bread that I'd packed in my lunchbox. I have the tub of cottage cheese I brought to work, it's on the counter, open. I am toasting my bread on the griller. One of them is ready, so I put cottage cheese on it. I am now standing with the cottage-cheesy knife ready to spread the cheese, the 2 other slices of toast are quietly toasting beside me.
Hbbm comes into the kitchen. "I need you now. I have to leave at 12 and I have only 40 minutes left. I don't know what to say... "
I'm frozen, standing there in UTTER disbelief. He can SEE me. He can see what I'm doing. He can see that I am making food. But that just doesn't matter.
I now have 1 slice of toast with cottage cheese on it, and 2 which have been toasted but haven't got cheese on them.
"I'm leaving at 12, after that you can do what you like, you can go to beach for all I care, I just need you now".
Emails. It's "critical" emails that I have to type. Once we're done, I look down at the plate of toast on my desk. The toast with the cottage cheese went soggy and the other 2 went pap. On top of that, he's been near my food. Stood behind me dictating emails. Leaned over to proof-read what I'd typed. Nice.
He's so chipper and cheerful, "oh I already feel so much better! now that these things are done! you know, life is all about priorities..." as in, whatever crisis comes up next, must be dealt with as if it is a life/death situation. No fucking kidding. My priority? TO EAT WHEN I'M HUNGRY!
I just nod and agree and smile minimally. I don't have enough kilojoules left in my body to manage more than a tiny smile. Nor do I have the mood to give more than that.
The reason for this? He's going away for the weekend. He had to be home by 12:30 and if he was late his wife would get annoyed at him.
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