As regular readers may know I've had a tough time at work recently. Not going into gory details, it had resulted in me at times doubting my value to the company at times. I've been fighting my corner fiercely and I've had to explain myself to the MD on more than one occasion.
This week I had my annual performance review and I wasn't sure how it was going to go. I needn't have worried. My boss gave me an overall rating as OUTSTANDING (the highest grade possible). This grading is directly linked to the pay structure and dictates, within a small range, my salary increase. And yesterday he told what it was going to be. He simply came into my office and sat down and told me.
And when he did I shouted back at him across the desk, "FUCK! Really?! FUCK!"
Now, my boss is a devote Christian and this perhaps wasn't quite the response he had anticipated or was used to. The two people in offices next to me popped their heads round the door to see if I was OK (maybe they thought I was angry or something). I apologised to them and to my boss for swearing. He smiled. "That's OK. I thought you'd be pleased!". Too bloody right I was.
It's not just the money though, it's the huge vote of confidence it gives me. It is full, tangible support. And to say I am happy would be putting it mildly. Last night I took Mark, Nikki, Colin and I out to Frederick's in Islington for a posh meal to celebrate. And I stuffed my face with the sweetest, richest chocolate mouse I could find. Savouring my just desserts.