Why Miserable Middle Manager is fuming today

I am fuming today, and I am fuming BIG.

You have now been reading my posts for a couple of months and you might think: "Well, MMM is actually fuming all the time, what is it special about today's fuming?". My fuming might not deserve a post, but today I need my loyal readers to listen to me. I need Ekaterina in Russia, Yorgos in Greece and Awowe in France to show me their empathy, I just need to feel you are there when I need you.

Where should I start? As you know, I have been catapulting CVs into the big black hole for a couple of months. I aim good as 99% of them get into the black hole and never come out again. During this time I have also had several off-on/love-hate relationships with HH (headhunters). No Kathy, don't get confused, HHs are not as idyllic as OBFs, they are an inferior species and don't deserve any respect.

This week my colleague Iman met this "a-m-a-z-i-n-g" HH and called me to share his experience: " Hey, MMM, you won't believe it but I have found the perfect man for us". Iman is not gay, he meant the perfect HH, not the perfect man. At first I did not want to listen to Iman's advice on having a date with HH, but as my rejection rate had been falling during the last two weeks as a result of having stopped my catapulting activities, I though it would be a good idea to follow a friend's advice and to give a bust to my rejection rate. I was (kind of) impressed when HH asked me questions about my MBA and seemed to know what an MBA was (the illiteracy rates in the HH industry are higher than those of adolescents in third world country- see The Economist, July2011 issue" ). Vate Ferfoutr seemed to be ready to invest a lot of time on me and I thought I had maybe finally found light at the end of the tunnel.

As he requested, I provided him a copy of the following information:
- Driving License
- Passport
- Security Clearance
- Birth Certificate
- Working VISA
- Green Card
- Recommendation letter from my previous manager
- Recommendation letter from HR
- Credit check
- PHD thesis
- MBA thesis
- My university transcripts
- Two utility bills (electricity bill & council tax) as proof of address
- Driving records showing I knew how to drive on the left of the road
- Height and weight (I had to give him this info in metric system as I cannot convert into feet or stones)

Anyway,

After spending two full days looking for all this information in my big fat files, I got my killer heels on (killer because they really kill me, I cannot walk for a week after wearing my heels, I got used to wearing the trainers we are obliged to wear at KonardKingdom) and headed up to his office. It was a good day until I got in the reception and told Onglede Chav, the receptionist, I was there to see Vate Ferfoutr.

25 minutes later I was still waiting for Vate Ferfoutr at the reception and decided to go and have one of the best muffins in London to forget that traumatic experience.


How long would you readers wait before leaving your date behind?