CYA - A Strategy for Everyone!

I work in a very political place.  And before you start yeah yeahing from your cheap seats in the back there (like where aren’t there politics?), know that my place can be particularly challenging.  While I could say that today was one such day, it really began yesterday.

When a meeting in a boardroom degenerates into a he said/she said type scenario with the hired help caught inbetween, you know what follows will be a “shitstorm” of note.

And together with the delightful rain here in Sydney (is it really going to last for 24 days Tim Bailey?????) I got caught bang in the middle of the two with not an umbrella or drizabone in sight.

As a PR person, I know more than most the value of a cya strategy – on EVERYTHING.  Important discussions are documented, untrustworthy discussions are documented, documents are documented and so on and so on.  As long as you aren’t using a forest in Brazil to do it (bless the laptop – all hail) everyone is happy and your arse is covered.  But that’s only if everyone plays the game.

Empires have crumbled over less so if you take nothing else away from this post today let it be that regardless of the digital age or your position of authority or perceived position of authority – COVER YOUR ARSE.  It’s going to save everyone a lot of aggravation.

Now pass me the toilet paper.

When did “we’ll get Thai” mean “be home by 7.30”?

This is your very standard and classic story of misunderstanding between the planets of Venus and Mars.

It’s the party season.  Invitations to Christmas celebrations are rampant.  Particularly when you’re the people’s favourite accountant.  The accountant in question was indeed invited to one such event that was to be followed by a night of bar-hopping and carousing in the city.  As you do when 47 and married with two children. 

The long-suffering partner (LSP) of said accountant gave permission willingly – seeing this as an opportunity to escape the ball and chain that is the oven/stove and joyfully informed co-workers about the plan to “fish and chips” the kids while “Thai’ing” herself out.

At the Friday arvo tennis lesson LSP was informed of a change of plan.  The accountant can’t be bothered to attend the party.  Strange?  Extraordinary?  Hmmmmm.

To cut a really long story short, on interrogation it was established that when the LSP said “we’ll get thai”, the accountant heard – “be home at 7.30”?  I get that his industry is a numbers game but does anyone, anyone, have a rational explanation?

No, I didn’t think so.

A reason, a season, a lifetime

From early on, I’ve been the type of person that collects “pet projects”.  We all know what those are – people who seem to sit on the fringes.  Who are not wholly accepted or who stand out (and not necessarily in a good way).  My inner circle have suffered through many of my undertakings, few of which have been successful. 

I’m also the kind of person that struggles to let people go.  The advent of Facebook has nurtured this need - allowing me to connect with people I’ve sought for years – wondering about their lives and how it all turned out.  However, I digress.

I came across a poem, a reason, a season, a lifetime, detailing why people come into our lives.  Referring to a reason, it said that sometimes once this person (the reason) has served their purpose and without any wrongdoing on your part they will say and do something to bring the relationship to an end.  Sometimes they die, walk away or act up and force you to take a stand.

A few months ago, I was forced to take a stand.  On reflection I guess the universe had been pointing this out for a while.  There had been ongoing incidents that I’d forgiven, even forgotten.  However, on the morning of Wednesday 23 June the reason left me no choice.  It was devastating to me, a punch in the chest that left me gasping for air.  Similar to someone dying.  And I guess in a way someone did.  The reason, despite being a “project”, had also played a major role in my life.  As a mentor and friend.  Perhaps on the back of an emigration I was holding people closer than usual and placing undue dependence on the new relationships I had formed personally and professionally.

If I was to say that six months down the line I wasn’t still angry and hurt.  That would be a lie.  But, to say I don’t miss my friend would be a lie too.  To conclude, the poem talks about seasonal and then lifetime relationships concluding that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.  I love this last bit.

Letting go has been really hard but a necessary next step in the journey that will no doubt still bring many different people and relationships into my life.  And I guess it’s the hope that there will be many lifetimers joining us along the way that make the reason’s and season’s worthwhile.