The Horror, The Horror, The Horror!

I should start by apologising for the delay in posting because I was fully intending to update on Sunday but somebody decided that would be unacceptable behaviour so blogspot decided that it had no knowledge of this account and I was unable to post.

I should be grateful then that I am allowed to post today because the high volume of police officers around me would suggest that today has been an important day and it has because the 7 working day deadline I included with the grievance my employers expired today forcing me into action.

I responded to this challenge by contacting my line manager who informed me that the issue had been passed up to his line manager. Obviously I then contacted my line manager and he has agreed to meet me on Monday the 21st to discuss my grievance.

He seems to be very keen to carry out a very long, complicated, thorough and expensive investigation when all he needs to do is issue a P45 to the employee against whom I have the grievance. As said employee is currently on probation and therefore has no right to reply if their employment is terminated for whatever reason I can only conclude that somebody has put the fear of god into the employer.

This is very unfortunate and makes things very time consuming but there is nothing I can do about it, especially if I am not allowed to blog, in much the same way that there is nothing I can do to alleviate the west country situation if I'm not allowed to make phone calls last week.

That was the early afternoon, the peace and quiet of the late afternoon was rather spoilt by my psychiatrist - you know the fellow, bad case on consultant syndrome far exceeding his career achievements - phoning up my dad to discuss details of my treatment with him.

This caused a bit of a row because the psychiatrist told my father that I had been discharged for failing to "engage with the treatment" as a response my dad had a big go culminating in the threat that I would have to move out and live somewhere else. To which the old internal monologue ran something along the lines of "Oh my god no! Please don't force me to increase my income while at the same time having to remove the stress of dealing with you day in, day out" which sort of led me to today's title.

I did however manage to cleverly diffuse the situation by pointing out to my dad that it is in fact a little difficult to follow the treatment plan of a psychiatrist who has no treatment plan to offer. This lead to some discussion of whether or not his use of the term "failure to engage" did in fact mean that I was failing to provide him with information that he could pass on to his superiors in order to win love and gold stars.

Personally I have to conclude that this is very unlikely because I am already giving the PCT a clear profile of the sort of employees that are unacceptable within community mental health projects and they are failing to act on that information so clearly they have no interest in any information I have to offer.

Since then we've been out for dinner and I've been in the pub, in case you didn't notice, so all I can think of to add is that I have worked out a way that I can get a driving licence without it being used to my disadvantage but if I do that it will be considered a sign of weakness by the Whitehall peanut gallery so I am unsure of whether to go for it.

Today's question is the most pressing issue which has been filling my day; "What on earth happened to my head because at the back I've got wicked bruise and a bit of a nasty cut?"