We put out an RFI (Request For Information) a couple of months back for an organisation-wide antivirus, anti-spyware solution. An RFI is like going to tender, only without even the hint of a suggestion that we might be willing to consider committing to anything that someone might try to sell to us.
The results came back, and most of them were pretty uninspiring. I was given the licensing terms to review and then, because the accountant to whom it was given claimed it was "too hard", I was also asked to do a cost analysis of the proposals. And then, because it's the end of year and we're really, really busy, I had to put it all to one side to keep up with everything that was more immediately relevant to my job.
So yesterday I began trying to make sense of the assorted dogs' breakfasts that various resellers and vendors had returned to us, and discovered that the accountant was probably being quite accurate when he threw the cost analysis into the "too hard". God knows that after spending seven hours on it today I was more than willing to throw it someplace, too, after trying futiley to find some way of making a valid comparison between the offerings that upper management could understand with minimal hand-holding. The only reason I kept at it so doggedly was that I'd been told that our director needed the information by the end of today for a meeting on Monday, and I was expecting to be set upon at any moment by minions demanding reults now! now! now!
After another stroke-inducing hour of trying to compile information, I took a break outside this afternoon and ran into the Crazy Man. He asked how things were going, and in response I groaned about my day and a half of cost analysis.
"Oh, that reminds me," he answered. "I was speaking to the director the other day about that and we've agreed to just skip the RFI and go straight to tender with more stringent requirements on how we want the responses structured."
"So I don't need to worry about this anymore?"
"No, no. Don't waste your time on it. I need to e-mail everyone reviewing the RFI responses and let them know, but haven't gotten around to it yet."
I wasn't just relieved, I was elated at the unexpected reprieve from battering my brain against the monolithic nightmare of irreconcilable proposals I'd been working on since 8am this morning. This was the best news I'd had all week.
In fact I was so overjoyed that it was at least five minutes before it occurred to me I should have brained the now vanished Crazy Man with a potplant for not telling me (or anyone else) a day ago and saving me much from much suffering...
17 December, 2004
02 December, 2004
Slappable Clients
Client e-mail: "I ordered Macromedia Studio MX 2004 for Macintosh/Windows a month ago and wondered when I can expect to see it."
My e-mail: "I've checked our records. We sent you this a month ago."
Client reply: "Oh. Then if what I'm looking for is Macromedia Studio MX 2004 for Macintosh/Windows, I've already received that."
- SLAP! -
My e-mail: "I've checked our records. We sent you this a month ago."
Client reply: "Oh. Then if what I'm looking for is Macromedia Studio MX 2004 for Macintosh/Windows, I've already received that."
- SLAP! -
05 July, 2004
Bloody office politics
The re-organisation to move the Cow-orker & I into the domain of the Crazy Man has gotten underway again. Last Friday he scheduled a meeting with us and our manager to go over some of our concerns, and nominated a time at which to have the meeting in our area "to discuss things rationally" (apparently our previous concerns over the lack of any kind of organisational structure or lines of reporting were just us being irrational). Not wanting to seem obstructive, we agreed. What we failed to do was stipulate that not only did we agree to the time, we also agreed to the place.
So, come the appointed time, we're all sitting in the manager's office waiting for the Pointy-Haired AD to turn up. Ten minutes passes. Then fifteen. We realise that because we didn't specifically agree to the meeting place as well, that in all likelihood this idiot is sitting down in his office waiting for us to either join him there, or to call him and beg for his presence. In a situation where three people from Section A have failed to materialise in one person's office in Section B after that person has suggested a meeting in Section A, a normal person might think to pick up the phone and see what's happening. But we're not dealing with a normal human being.
Finally, again not wanting to seem obstructive, we call him. He's been sitting in his office for the last 15 minutes, refusing to call us on principle because we didn't specify that we agreed to both time and place, therefore we'd implicitly opted to have the meeting in the place most inconvenient to the majority.
So that was on Friday. The Cow-orker and I have another meeting with him this morning - again he proposed the time, but this time didn't even nominate a place. But he last four meetings about this have been here, there's no logical reason to assume things will be any different this time. No logical reason...
Fifteen minutes after the meeting is due to start there's still no sign of him. Surely if the meeting was being held in his office he'd have called by now to make sure we were still coming? It seems incredible to me that he'd pull this stunt two days' running (maybe he thinks that with a weekend in the way we won't notice?), but I really don't care all that much - I figure he has more interest in this transfer taking place than we do, so this time he can bloody well pick up the phone if he thinks we're supposed to be meeting in his office.
Eventually the Cow-orker can't stand the suspense and calls him to see where he is. Sure enough, he's sitting in his office, stubbornly waiting for us to arrive (because even though all four previous meetings have taken place here, it's supposed to be clear from his location-less meeting invitation that we're meeting in his office) and refusing to call to see where we are, because he was in the right, damnit, and calling us would be a sign of weakness. Hell, we might even interpret it as an admission that his invitation was unclear. So no, there was no way he was going to pick up that phone and sound like he was actually interested in this whole organisational land-grab that he's been pushing every step of the way...
On the other hand, this meant that by the time we reached his office letting the Cow-orker loose on him wasn't just morally justified, it was a moral imperative.
So, come the appointed time, we're all sitting in the manager's office waiting for the Pointy-Haired AD to turn up. Ten minutes passes. Then fifteen. We realise that because we didn't specifically agree to the meeting place as well, that in all likelihood this idiot is sitting down in his office waiting for us to either join him there, or to call him and beg for his presence. In a situation where three people from Section A have failed to materialise in one person's office in Section B after that person has suggested a meeting in Section A, a normal person might think to pick up the phone and see what's happening. But we're not dealing with a normal human being.
Finally, again not wanting to seem obstructive, we call him. He's been sitting in his office for the last 15 minutes, refusing to call us on principle because we didn't specify that we agreed to both time and place, therefore we'd implicitly opted to have the meeting in the place most inconvenient to the majority.
So that was on Friday. The Cow-orker and I have another meeting with him this morning - again he proposed the time, but this time didn't even nominate a place. But he last four meetings about this have been here, there's no logical reason to assume things will be any different this time. No logical reason...
Fifteen minutes after the meeting is due to start there's still no sign of him. Surely if the meeting was being held in his office he'd have called by now to make sure we were still coming? It seems incredible to me that he'd pull this stunt two days' running (maybe he thinks that with a weekend in the way we won't notice?), but I really don't care all that much - I figure he has more interest in this transfer taking place than we do, so this time he can bloody well pick up the phone if he thinks we're supposed to be meeting in his office.
Eventually the Cow-orker can't stand the suspense and calls him to see where he is. Sure enough, he's sitting in his office, stubbornly waiting for us to arrive (because even though all four previous meetings have taken place here, it's supposed to be clear from his location-less meeting invitation that we're meeting in his office) and refusing to call to see where we are, because he was in the right, damnit, and calling us would be a sign of weakness. Hell, we might even interpret it as an admission that his invitation was unclear. So no, there was no way he was going to pick up that phone and sound like he was actually interested in this whole organisational land-grab that he's been pushing every step of the way...
On the other hand, this meant that by the time we reached his office letting the Cow-orker loose on him wasn't just morally justified, it was a moral imperative.
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