As I write this it is about 9:00 on Saturday morning here in Singapore which means for my colleagues back in California their work week is just about wrapped up. Finally. I know this thanks to the predictability of the earth’s rotation, a basic understanding of timezones, and the capacity to perform very basic math. Failing all that, of course I have access to that magnificent repository of knowledge called the internet where sites abound listing the time in various countries and cities across the globe. I know a few of my co-workers in London are probably just now making their way home after a night of poor decisions and questionable habits. I know those sparse few folks in the eastern and central time zones of the states should be well into their Friday night festivities, even if they are nothing so extravagant as dinner with the family and a DVD rental. The majority in Fruit and Nut Land, in reality, have probably closed up shop an hour or more ago and are even now contemplating the beautiful blank slate that is a fresh weekend.
Why the obsession with time this morning? Because despite numerous insincere reminders from colleagues hither and yon on my Friday morning conference calls to “have a great weekend”, it seems very few of them actually have any concept of when that weekend begins for anyone not sitting in the grey-walled cubicle right next to them…
I appreciate that not everyone needs to immediately cease working or even stop sending me stuff just because my weekend has begun and they are toiling away. I mean I certainly don’t restrain my cc: line on Monday mornings when I realize I’m one of the few in my company actually back to work already. But to follow up an email sent at 7 pm with a snarky text message at 9:30 and then a phone call at 10 on a Friday night… well I’m sorry you have seriously overstepped a boundary.
Which is why, having had my Friday night so rudely invaded, I find myself tempted to manufacture some emergency of my own to drop back in the laps of those happy colleagues currently planning their own retreat into the sanctuary of Friday night drinks and a couple days reprieve from work. While some might object saying I’m just ruining even more of my own weekend, I think they are overlooking just how much enjoyment can be derived from petty revenge.
OK, so I’m not REALLY going to do it. It’s tempting, but it leads to more reprisals and escalations that ruin not just this weekend, but possibly the next few.
No, I’m going straight for the kill shot. It’s time to request some of these beloved colleagues come out to play in Asia. You want to ruin my Friday night? Fine. I hope you enjoy your weekend spent chewing on your kneecaps in an economy class seat as you hop your way half way around the world in time for a “critical” partner meeting I’ll set up on some random Monday morning in the not too distant future. Oh, and did I mention we’ve got a customer dinner and drinks night already planned for the following Friday evening? I’m sorry but it just won’t be possible to fly home until Saturday morning. A 20+ hour transit that I’m sure will be extra pleasant after a night of soju, kim-chee and horrible karaoke.