Sholto is away from his desk right now...

The drear hell of the Ooo

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I’m not sure there’s anything that boils my piss quite as much as Out-Of-Office messages.

I’m sure one was actually useful once... maybe. Like once somebody actually let the fucking paperclip help them write an ‘informal business letter’.

But look... here’s the thing. I’ve had about 9000 emails this week asking me if I want to ‘opt-out’, in case the forthcoming, crashingly cynical, entirely AI generated, ‘Celebrate Father’s Day with our dreary product’ email is going to trigger me.

(It doesn’t trigger me, BTW. But the warning is exactly the kind of thing that would have given Dad an aneurysm).

So. I’ll tell you what. Over there in the HR Dept. Why not think about this...

‘Dear Colleague,

A while ago, we installed on your laptop a facility to use an Out-of-Office message, to alert clients and co-workers to your absence and to reassure them that they would have your full attention on your return.

We thought it was OK when you started being amusing...

“Kevin is away from his desk today on an Elven Quest across The Shire but will return to do your bidding w/c the 12th”.

... That’s amusing, we thought. That showed a kind of... Hey guys... we like to kinda hang loose here at Soma Media. Disruptor Informality!!!

When one colleague in marketing OOO’d “Woo. Prosecco O’Clock!!!!” We took a holistic view and only insisted on 6 months suspension and Addiction Therapy.

But please, as of today, be aware of this...

When you put up something like “I don’t work Mondays or Fridays” or worse “I’m away from my desk, enjoying me-time, contemplation and self-actualisation”... you will FUCKING ENRAGE A FREELANCER.”

That triggers my ass!

We work as parts of teams, with people in corporate environments. It’s pretty much the job description. So when somebody in that team drops off-grid for 4 days of random mountain biking, hiking to Machu-fucking-pichu or just sitting at home and doomwatching ‘Rivals’ while banging down Whispering Angel and weeping snot... remember we don’t do that. We can’t.

Tonight’s martini is a P.O.T - though obviously I won’t put that on my autoreply - it’s a Push-on-Through. I can, when necessary, which it often is, overlay the Cocktail Hour on work... when it looks like I’m going to be up ‘til 0200.

I also don’t get weekends. I often have to cancel holidays. I can’t remember the last ‘quality time’ I had to myself because, frankly, I spend half my working life trying to get anything fucking quorate amidst a screaming batshit-tsunami of whinging, pass-agg OOOs from people who basically hate the jobs that give them a regular cheque and the privilege of a channel through which to whinge.

I was supposed to do an interview tonight.

I got a message at the last minute. He had 14 things to do, back-to-back that were going to take him through the weekend, which he would terminate on Sunday night with ‘150 Negronis’.

That, my friend, is the sort of OOO I can appreciate.

This one’s for you mate.