Woe is me

"Beware self-pity", my father used to tell me, "It runs in the family". His warning struck home and I've been on my guard against self-pity ever since.

Self-pity is defined as a feeling of excessive unhappiness about one's problems. I never sat around thinking "Woe is me. This is dreadful. Why have I been picked on? Why is life so unfair?" I tend to take most problems in my stride, solving them as best I can and moving on.

So my bed-sit landlords never did any repairs, never installed central heating and never got rid of the pervading damp in the building. I cursed the company freely and then just got on with my life. So one of my bookshop managers micromanaged everyone and expected us all to work feverishly and not waste time nattering. We just called him an authoritarian arsehole and downed tools the moment he went out for a fag break.

In fact my father was much more prone to self-pity than I am. He would be fuming for hours over a boss who constantly messed him around and jumped on the smallest error. He couldn't accept that some bosses can be pernickety sods and you just have to deal with it. If he expected to have a perfect boss who never upset him, he wasn't living in the real world.

Of course if my life had been one awful disaster after another, I daresay I would have struggled to avoid self-pity and I would seriously have asked, why have I had it so bad? It would be hard to simply carry on and tell myself "C'est la vie"'.

Hard work

It's a well-worn cliché that only hard work will get you what you want in life. But it's also a load of bollocks. Hard work might get results, or it might get you precisely nothing.

There are plenty of people out there sweating away day after day with little to show for it. All the money's going to their bosses or their landlord or their season ticket and they struggle to make any real improvements in their life.

Other people lie on their yachts all day and do nothing but watch the money pour in from their various investments and property empires. Their only hard work is tying their shoelaces.

I must admit I've done very little hard work in my life. I've been lucky enough to have fairly leisurely jobs with plenty of time for chatting and fooling around. The only serious exertion was the start of the academic year at a university bookshop, humping hundreds of weighty textbooks into the shop and trying to keep up with the deluge of impatient students and their voluminous booklists (that was in the pre-internet, pre-Wikipedia days of course). It was pure bedlam.

What wealth and comfort I've acquired has been almost entirely through luck rather than hard work. Constantly rising property prices, especially in London, and an unexpected windfall from my mum. Or to put it another way, being in the right place at the right time and knowing the right people.

I suppose you could also say I haven't squandered all my money on drink or drugs or gambling or hookers. If you have any kind of expensive addiction, then any amount of hard work, however well it's paid, won't bear much fruit.

I was reading only today that the average income for a writer is now about £11,000 a year. You can sit in front of your pc for decades, laboriously cranking out page after page of hard-won creativity, and have only a massive overdraft as your reward.

Listening to all these millionaire government ministers urging us all to solve our problems by working a bit harder is pretty sickening. I'd like to see them scrubbing a few floors on their hands and knees. That'll be the day.

Sometimes brave

I'm a strange mixture of extreme cowardice and surprising bravery. A group of youths on a street corner can make me cringe nervously. But I'll take on a ruthless boss who wants to undermine my working conditions.

Any kind of visible aggression makes me very jittery, and that can include angry expressions, threatening postures, gloating laughter, even lads kicking footballs. A huddle of teenage males usually exudes enough aggressive undertones for me to cross the street to avoid them.

In the workplace though I've often challenged managers who want to mess about with my working hours or salary or work routines. If I feel unfairly treated, I'll square up to them. I spent four years as a trade union rep doing the same for my workmates.

I've often been the lone voice in a gathering of diehards, expressing my own heretical opinions whether they like it or not. I'll voice my atheism to a bunch of dyed-in-the-wool believers. I'll tell a roomfull of meat-chompers that I'm a vegetarian. I'll lob my socialism into a bevy of hardline conservatives.

But I can also get absurdly shy at social events. Faced with a sea of unfamiliar faces, I get tongue-tied, my brain freezes, my self-confidence withers, I don't know what to say.

Public speaking is equally scary. I've never given a formal speech or presentation in my life, and I hope I never have to. I'm sure I'd say all the wrong things and seriously embarrass myself.

And in restaurants, like most people, I'm loathe to complain about the food, even if it's virtually inedible. I just valiantly gulp it down or leave it. I don't like to make a fuss or be the centre of attention.

I guess what all this amounts to is that I have a very unpredictable response to danger. Sometimes I flee, sometimes I walk straight into it. And sometimes I don't even notice it, I just do what I have to do.

Unpopular bosses

A lot of people - both men and women - complain about female bosses and female workmates. Supposedly they can be harder to work with than men - tougher and less forgiving. Strangely enough, I've never found that myself.

I've worked with plenty of women, both as bosses and workmates, and I've never had any problems with them. The bosses in particular were very easy to get on with and even a joy to work for. I've had much worse male bosses - bullies, dimwits, nit-pickers, egotists, neurotics, penny-pinchers, you name it. Bosses I was glad to get shot of. So I'm baffled by all these complaints. Am I just lucky or what?

Maybe I'm generous towards women, I give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the women indulged me because I was a bloke. Maybe I was happy to do what they asked me without too much fuss. Maybe I thought they had better ideas than the guys. Whatever the reason, there was never any serious friction. So what is this antipathy others keep referring to?

Is a lot of it just sexism? Are there still hordes of men out there who resent women having high-powered jobs and telling them what to do? Do women themselves secretly think women bosses aren't up to the job and a man would do it better? Is it that old cliché that women have to do the job twice as well as a man just to be seen as competent?

All I can say is, thanks to Kate, Iris, Sheila, Ulli, Ruth and all the other female bosses I've had. I enjoyed working with you and I'd be very happy to work with you again. No hard feelings whatever. No grudges, no rancour, no unfinished business. What's the big deal?

Nosy bosses

How much prying into your private life is an employer entitled to do in the name of protecting their reputation? How far can they go before you tell them to mind their own business?

Some employers routinely monitor their workers' drinking, smoking and drug use, check their criminal records, vet their emails and favoured websites, or ban controversial activities like political protests. Is all this personal surveillance really justified?

I suspect a lot of this nosiness is just a way of showing who's boss and has little to with the firm's reputation.

I shouldn't think their customers care a jot who has a cocaine habit or who wants to smash capitalism as long as they do their job properly.

But this very week a teacher in Cambridge was reprimanded by her Principal for posing in her underwear on a website. She had jeopardised the school's reputation, he said, and acted inappropriately. He ordered the immediate removal of the photos from the website and was consulting his superiors about further action.

Do the pupils or parents really think these risqué photos have affected her teaching? I doubt it. More likely, they were just intrigued and amused.

Of course some personal monitoring is necessary. Making sure that anyone working with children has no history of child abuse is important. Likewise ensuring that pilots aren't drunk in the cockpit. But beyond these basic safeguards, your private life should be your concern and nobody else's.

Objecting to employees who wear crosses, wear earrings, sport tattoos, or dye their hair a strange colour, is ridiculous. All those sartorially-correct bankers still managed to screw up the economy big-time. Maybe a few purple-haired, multi-pierced ones would have done a better job?

If you ask me, the people who really deserve close scrutiny are not ordinary employees but all those sneaky politicians busy lining their pockets at our expense. As far as they're concerned, the more prying the better.

Question: Would it be equally "inappropriate" if the teacher had posted her holiday snaps, lying on the beach in her bikini? Would it be inappropriate that a pupil might have seen her semi-naked on the sand? Someone's seriously over-reacting here.

Off sick

Some moralistic twat at The Times has launched a scathing attack on 'bogus' sick leave, saying that too many employees are pulling a fast one at other people's expense.

These attacks are made regularly, usually in the right-wing, "workers are all lazy gits" section of the media. But few people put the case for the so-called "sickie-pulling" workers who're so routinely scapegoated.

The Times writer moans that civil servants rack up an average of 11.7 sick days a year while private sector workers only average 7.2. Ergo, goes the hare-brained conclusion, the former are all chronic idlers who're taking the piss.

Well, firstly, who says all these workers are not genuinely sick? Maybe there's something about public sector work that makes you less healthy? Mind-numbing paperwork perhaps, or constant complaints from the public? The wear and tear of the emergency services, or lifting heavy patients in the NHS? It's not always the cushy number others fondly imagine.

Secondly, suppose private sector workers get ill just as often but may feel forced to go to work? If they don't get sick pay, or they're paid daily, or other people are after their job, or there's a vital contract they have to clinch, or it's a family business that relies on their being there, then they may drag themselves in even if they're at death's door for fear of the consequences if they don't.

And thirdly, even if people are throwing a sickie (and haven't we all?), there may be good reasons for such apparent sloth. If your working conditions are poor, if you're overworked or bullied or bored witless or stuck in a basement, then of course there are days when you think "I just can't face going in today, it's doing my frigging head in."

Or maybe you need time to sort out an urgent domestic crisis but you know your boss won't give you the time off. So you cough and sneeze into the phone, make your excuses, and stay at home.

I sympathise totally. Why shouldn't you protect your wellbeing against indifferent bosses? If employers are concerned about sky-high sick leave, perhaps they should take a good look at the working conditions and whether people are actually enjoying their jobs.

I worked at a charity for 5½ years without taking a single day's sick leave. The reason? I thoroughly enjoyed what I did, I had a great bunch of workmates, and the conditions were excellent. Even if I had a nasty cold, I still wanted to go to work and catch up with the gossip.

The resident ignoramus at The Times should have a proper look at the real-life workplace before pontificating so glibly from a well-padded executive swivel-chair.