The Clangers...

Although my official Job Title is 'Travelling Mouse', the 'travelling' bit doesn't just refer to the hopping on and off of planes, trans and roller skates.  What I mean is that I have t be flexible.  

I don't mean attending yoga classes three times a weeks.  I have the technology (when it works) to work from just about anywhere.

Of course this has it's advantages, especially during the recent hot weather, when I have worked many a morning from my garden with a pot of fresh coffee at my paw.  This does mean that I have to remember to press the 'mute' button when attending conference calls before someone asks where the bird noises are coming from.

At the moment however I have limited technology.  I usually access my e-mail and applications using a device that looks like a USB stick (or a kind of red cockroach with a metal bit at the end, for the non technically savvy among you) that plugs into my laptop and connects via smoke, mirrors and my portable wifi to the world of Cheese orders.  Last week I was in the middle of a conference call when a message flashed up on the screen: 'Connection Lost', and the fascinating presentation on Cheese Production I had been engaged in disappeared from my screen. A quick investigation (me looking at the USB port at the back of my laptop) revealed that the USB (metal bit) part was still firmly intact in the port. However the 'stick' (cockroach) bit was on the desk.  Two years worth of travelling and transporting of the device in various bags, suitcases and pockets had taken it's toll.  The device was broken beyond repair.

So, while I wait for a new device, which of course had to be ordered by a many stepped and laborious application and approval process, I am limited in my flexibility.  I can still do a perfect back bend but actually connecting to anything useful via my laptop is a distant memory, so I have to be creative.

This morning, for example, I had an appointment and a one hundred  and fifty nine page document detailing the various responsibilities of the Cheese Producers, the Wrapping and Packaging Suppliers, the Cheese Integrators and the Farmers themselves to review.  My appointment was far from the office and close to a well known coffee shop and, well, I hadn't had any breakfast, so I went in, ordered a strong coffee and a muffin (for brain power) and settled into a nice quiet corner seat to review the massive manuscript.

Thirty eight pages in (it is very complicated and I have to read it very slowly) and two gentlemen appear nearby.  They are speaking in a language that my mouse ears do not understand but they are carrying a very large box.  My whiskers twitch in uncomfortable anticipation.

The gentlemen go over to two large, comfortable looking chairs in the opposite corner and I breath a sigh of relief and return to the complexities of the Cheese outsourcing manual.  Two minutes later they reappear, carrying the two large chairs between them. I nearly fall off mine.  What are they doing?

The large box is opened.  It contains a hammer and a drill.  They proceed to tip the comfortable looking chairs upside down, drill out the bolts holding them together and hammer every metal part of them.  Hard. Two feet away from my sensitive mouse ears. Clang. Clang. Clang.  All the time they work, they jabber away in the strange language.  Well, flexible I may be, but there is a limit.  If I want constant noise, interruption and incomprehensible chit chat I can work from the office.  I glance at my plate - the muffin is a distant memory and the coffee now cold, so I pack up my documents and the office is exactly where I head.

My ears are still ringing.

Mouse xx

Everything is blurry...

Hoorah!  I can go travelling again and a-travelling I will go.  In fact I did go.  This week.  

So, Monday morning found me at Birmingham Airport, at my usual table, in my usual coffee shop, tapping away at my keyboard and setting up the business meetings and notes I would need for my latest visit to Sweden.  Tap, tap, tap, actions all done, paperwork all read and understood, presentation material all ship-shape.  I looked up at the flight information board - flight delayed by one hour.  Sigh.  Tap, tap, tap, rearrange all the meetings I had set up for that afternoon. 

On the plane I like nothing more than to settle down with a good book.  If the plane is empty and I have a whole row to myself (hooray!) I like to do some work but if you are literally paw-to-elbow with your commuting neighbour I don't like to work because:-

• They might elbow me and spill coffee on my keyboard
• I might elbow them (and they will probably be bigger than me)
• They might read what I am writing and sell the information to a rival Cheese company
• It is a nuisance having to say 'excuse me please' every five minutes in order to get out / put away the laptop

Anyway, on this occasion the flight was full.  I pulled out my book (Of Mice and Men - it's not what I expected it to be about - there aren't that many mice in it) and reached into my flight bag for my reading / working glasses.

They were not there.

I rummaged around a bit further.  No.  Definitely not there.  I put the book away and had a think. Maybe the glasses were playing that game. You know the one, where you search for something, it's not there, you check again and again, not there, and then you check later and there it is and was all along. I decided to check again at the hotel and settled down to the business of a small sleep.

I like the hotel I stay in. I stay in the same place regularly as they have a nice breakfast, and in the evening they put on 'a light buffet'.  Well, it's light if you are an elephant maybe, but to a small Mouse it's a feast! They also have pots of coffee out all day and all night, and very often cakes too!  This time, however, I think they mistook my request for a room, for a request for a small cupboard.  The bed was comfy but it nearly touched the wall on all sides.  There was a small desk, that could easily double up as a shelf, a small wardrobe and a bathroom.

I set the laptop up on the shelf desk and proceeded to empty the contents of my flight back onto the bed: three international power adapters, several pens, copies of Cheese orders, sunglasses (good - I like to look stylish), a USB plug, several USB charger cables (see how efficient that is? one plug and many cables that fit? Perfect until I need to charge two things at the same time), tissues (new), tissues (used - ugh), screwed up tickets and boarding cards and a small pack of emergency snacks.  No reading / working glasses.

For that afternoon I had calls to make - not so much of a problem.  I sat on the chair (did I forget to mention that there was a chair rammed into the minute space between the bed and the shelf desk?) and peered at the screen to find the numbers to call. 

The screen was covered in a number of fuzzy squiggles. I pushed the laptop forward. I pushed the chair back. I leaned back and squinted, putting my paw over each digit in the telephone number as I squinted and reading them out like a child. 7,7,3,4,8,no,0,no,8,no,3.  It was no use. I dialled a few numbers, apologized to a few people for disturbing their afternoon and listened to a few 'not listed' tones until I finally had a brainwave! I used the cut and past facility to copy the number and paste it into a Word document, then increased the font size to large. Much better.  I was able to do the calls!

For the remainder of the trip, improvisation was the key word.  During presentations I was able to read the large text on the projector screen, but writing notes in my diary was more of a challenge.  I found myself listening double hard, to make up for being visually challenged and it made me realise what a visual Mouse I am, relying on pictures, expressions and body language to make sense of at least half of the stories my customers tell me. I also stopped glancing at e-mail during meetings, a bad habit and also rude to the person I am speaking to, but something I notice we all do.

In the evenings I was not able to pass the time reading, or playing games on my iPad and so I went to bed early, or went for a walk. Many, many times I went to reach for my glasses as I picked up my mobile phone, or I would go to switch on my laptop in the evening and 'just catch up on e-mails', both very bad habits really.  The loss of my specs forced me to be just a Mouse and not a Cheese-ordering-problem-solving-requirements-gathering-expectations-managing Mouse for once.

The visit was over far too soon and there were several of my favourite Miss Mooses on my catch up list who I never got to see (this time), and it was time to set off and claim my glasses from Birmingham Airport Lost Property.  I got up at the unearthly hour of 5.30am Swedish time, in order to get home for mid-day UK time so that I could attend some more calls.  However, luck was not on my side.  As I printed my boarding pass I squinted at the blurry lines.  Two blurry lines and two blurry seat numbers.  I could just about make out the word 'Frankfurt'.  I ran over to the SAS desk as fast as my paws would carry me.  There were rather a lot of people there, complaining that they had been diverted.  The red face man behind the glass looked flustered and uncomfortable. The flight to Birmingham had been cancelled and we were all being ferried home by various double hop routes.

Oh well. I like airports and I don't mind delays too much.  A few calls and my meetings were rescheduled. At least I could settle down and read a magazine. Oh - hang on, no, I can't do that either.

So I did what a Mouse does best.  Breakfast in Sweden. Second breakfast in Denmark. Lunch in Germany.  Dinner back home in the UK.  With a few snacks in between thrown in for good measure.

When I finally arrived back at Birmingham, I made my way up to Lost Property and there were my glasses, waiting safely and soundly for me.  I put them on and the world became a clearer, sharper place. I checked my mobile phone, my texts, my e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, the news sites and the gossip sites.  I was up to speed, informed and with a head full of useless facts and time wasting information that I had managed to live without for the past three days, which leads me to think that although it's great to be informed, to have information at our paw tips and able to communicate with friends, family and colleagues all over the world in an instant, sometimes a blurry world is the healthier option.

Fuzzily yours,

Mouse xx

Rise and Shine...

One of the interesting things about working with my Farmer customers who are based in different countries is that I get to work in different timezones.  This is good because I was never a 9-5 Mouse.  Because of this I often work at home, settling myself into my desk just as the birds are chirping into life outside, snuggled in my dressing gown, coffee in paw.  Unfortunately this can mean, if it's a very busy day of telephone calls and conferences, that I am still snuggled in my dressing gown as the mid-day sun is streaming through the skylights (or more usually, the rain is beating down), the coffee has gone cold and the birds have long since disappeared to their daily adventures.  Once, one of my Quality Control colleagues - the ones who check the Cheese orders and offers to ensure that the cheese is compliant with European Taste and Texture standards, tried to dial me into a video conference.  There was I, with bird's nest fur, wrapped in a terry towelling garment that had seen better days, at risk of exposure to an entire office full of tick-box health-and-safety types who would, I envisage, take one look at my bedraggled state and send Social Services round to monitor me as I clearly cannot look after myself.  I am now meticulous and making sure that the webcam isn't on (and I sometimes stick one of my boss Edie's stickers over the little camera.  That'll fox 'em.

Anyway, I had to attend one such call on Monday morning at 7.30. Being a diligent Mouse, and as my colleague from the Cheese Operational Integration Board was also attending, I decided to go into the office.  I wore my new red business outfit (do you like it? The picture doesn't do it justice.)and tiptoed into the silent office at 7am to prepare.

Did you know that you can't even get a decent cup of coffee in  my office at 7am? Yes you can get the bitter, brown, weak excuse for coffee from the free coffee machines, but not the proper stuff.  However, I happened to walk into the building at the same time as the Catering Manager so a little smile, a cheery 'Good Morning', a compliment, 'Oh you won your badminton match? well done', and a little cough, smile 'what time does your coffee machine go on?' accompanied by a desperate look (I didn't have to act this, it comes naturally at that time in the morning), and he switched it on early for me.  

The proverbial Cup of Ambition clutched in paw, I set up the meeting room.  Laptop? check. Remote connectivity on wireless? Not working.  Find a wire and plug it in? Check. Phone on? Check.

By and by, in wanders my Operational Cheese Board colleague, bleary eyed and still shuffling somewhat with the shock of the early encounter. I do the decent thing and fetch her a coffee while she plugs herself in.

We dial in.  The Farmers are all there, discussing their Cheese Orders. All of the Cheese Orders appear to be the Most Important Cheese Orders, but this we are used to.  The meetings are definitely getting better.  The Farmers are more used to the process and we are there to speak for ourselves and manage expectations (i.e. make sure that everything is not just blamed on the Cheese Suppliers)and we roll forward nicely.  Then the Farmers decide to have a coffee break.

So, there are the Operational Cheese Board lady and myself, having struggled in at an indecent hour, listening to the sound of clanking crockery, the stirring of coffee and the dunking of biscuits, and much chatter.  All in Swedish. We imagine that they have a table full of lovely delicacies, Danish Pastries from just over the bridge, Cheese, Biscuits... Having actually attended these meetings on many occasion I know this is just fantasy, but we have missed breakfast you see, and the poor Farmers are probably having to listen to the rumbling of our tummies across the telephone line.

All too soon the conference is over and I pack up my laptop, diary, pens and wires and return to my desk, just as the other colleagues are starting to drift in. I arrive just in time to do a full days work.  I fell like I have done a full days work already*

*I have.

So I settle down, set up and get ready for the next call of the day.

But not before returning to the Canteen to see my friend, the Canteen Manager, and stock up on more coffee and some breakfast. I wonder if they do a good Cheese on Toast...?

Yours Tiredly,
Mouse xx

Take it Easy, Mouse...?

You might be surprised to hear this, but even I, Miss Mouse,am not invincible.  I have been ill.  Yes. Ill.

It started with a tummy bug.  I went to a party with a few of my friends, and one of them, naughty Piggy, came to the party with a bad tummy bug and didn't tell anyone. All of us caught it.  Everyone got better.  I didn't.

I went to the doctor who gave me some pills, designed and prescribed, to cure all my ills - oops - sorry - must concentrate on telling the story - anyway - they didn't.

During this time I limped along. I went to Denmark, Copenhagen to be exact, to visit some more farmers to discuss a large Cheese order.  I had long wanted to visit Copenhagen but thanks to a horrid hotel and my poor tummy and the horrible way the prescribed tablets made me feel, it wasn't an enjoyable trip.  The Farmers were very good and excellent at planning, and they laid on lots of Danish Pastries, which, on a better day, I would have devoured, but on this occasion I could only stumble delicately from Boardroom to Bedroom, via the loo, trying to get through each hour without turning green and being sick.  Or worse.

I went to the Big Hospital to see the Chief Doctor and she sent me to hospital.  Immediately.  Do Not Pass Go.  Do Not Collect Cheese Orders.  Oh the loss of control! But I was too weak to fight.  I sent the required e-mails to let my team know, switched off my phone, and succumbed to the world of intravaeneous steroids, fluids and antibiotics for 5 days.  Not to mention hospital food.

Eventually I was allowed home. I called my boss. 'Hello, it's Mouse. I will be off for the rest of the week, and I will be back on Monday', I squeaked, pathetically. The drugs were, in turn, squeezing and expanding my head, dragging me into sleep and, very delicately and slowly, repairing the damage to my little furry body. 'Ok Mouse. By the way, ignore the message I sent to you on Wednesday. I have the answer now.'

Message? So while I am in my hospital bed my boss is leaving me work calls. Inevitable I suppose.  Anyway... I went back to work.

And then a complication. I won't go into the delicate details but I ended up back in the Big Hospital, with a big fat General Anaesthetic in my paw while a horrid surgeon with a scalpel made a few tweaks to my physique. Three more days in hospital and a very delicate time afterwards having my war wounds dressed. This is ongoing and I am not allowed to travel. Try explaining THIS to the Farmers though. There is one particular Farmer who ALWAYS places late Cheese Orders who is neither amused nor understanding about this situation. 'I want you to come and explain to my team what you do, Mouse and how you can speed up the Cheese Orders' she demands.  I sigh. And once again, remind her to get her Cheese orders in clearly and early. And of the presentation on how Cheese Orders work, that I and the Cheese Delivery Board showed to her. And of the fact that we have a weekly planning Telco. And that we are all there to work together to ensure timely Cheese delivery.

And then I remind myself that some things cannot be changed. And that worrying about it will not be helpful to a half poorly Mouse. And that rest and sleep are good.  And that travel will happen soon enough.  In a few weeks I will be able to go back to lovely Sweden and Denmark and enjoy the experience. And choose a better hotel. 

So look after yourselves, people. Doing your best is the best thing you can do. But we can't fix the world and sometimes, trying to do that, means it is us who have to be fixed.

Delicately Yours,
Mouse xx

The Way We Work...

Morning!

Thank goodness for coffee eh? 

Well, here I am, at the airport. Again.  It's 8am and I've been up since 5am.  Well, a girl has to make sure her fur looks good before travelling you know.  Anyway, as I sit here with my Super Large Coffee, I've been contemplating travel and the journey to work.

When I started out my career as an Office Junior Mouse back in... well, let's not give any dates away, but it was more than a few weeks back, if you know what I mean, well anyway, I used to get the bus into the office every morning.  I was often late as I hated that bus and that office junior job come to that.  I would clonk over the road in my high heels - yes - even mice wear high heels when they're young and foolish, make the bus by the tuft of my tail and sit at the back with a good book and eat my lunch on the journey to work.  Once in the City Centre (where else did anyone work in those days? Business Parks were yet to be invented), I would clonk along the pavement, staring in the shop windows at the aspirational pay day purchases, under the subway (long since filled in by Health and Safety), purchase a pocketful of mints (have I ever told you how many fillings I have) and clonk up the office steps just in time to install myself in front of my typewriter (yes, not connected to ANYTHING other than a ribbon) in time for coffee with at least four sugars (back to the fillings again).  This is how everyone worked.  A few years later when I had passed my driving test, I would clumsily clunk the gears and grind my way into my next office - located OUT OF TOWN (progress!) and clonk (still in the high heels) into yet another office, log onto my computer (more progress!)and while DOS booted up (not that much progress, then!) I would go and queue up for a cheese pastie (easier on the fillings).

Then Business Parks happened.  Purpose built complexes complete with inadequate parking - first come, first served.  I even tried getting Edie to lend me one of her stuffed rabbits so I could sit it in the passenger seat and try to sneak into the carshare spots.  I logged onto bigger, faster computers, discovered coffee, and started to lower my heels. Nothing to do with age, you understand.

Then came train travel to exotic locations.  London! Sheffield! Birmingham!  Once I flew to Ireland!  On a little tiny 6 seat plane.  I was still young enough to make the most of the situation, partying with lovely Irish friends and fitting in a bit of work.  I remember that trip very well.  Something awful and very sobering happened in the news.  The date was September 11th.  Where were you?

Anyway I digress.  As I got into my routine this morning, up at 5, wash my whiskers, brush my fur, brush what's left of my teeth, put on my flat travel boots, quick stock check of the travel bags, it occured to me that this is now normal.  To travel not only 5, 15 or even 50 miles to the office but to travel hundreds of miles.  To go by car, by train, by plane.  To set up my office wherever I lay my hat, so to speak.  And do you know what? I love it.  It makes for an interesting life. Not so much a 9-5 as a wherever and whenever. And  am sure I am more productive for it.  No more staggering in late with the minimum of enthusiasm.  No more timing my arrival with the delivery of morning munchies, and certainly no more sugar.  I am a healthier, older and much more focussed and enthused Mouse these days (although perhaps a little less stylish).  Isn't it amazing that we can get better work / life balance, which until a few years ago was just a saying without substance, by timing our work around our lives. It suits me and I find I react much more quickly.

Anyway, oops, time is flying and so must I. No delays today so off I go. 

Maybe time for just one more coffee?

Wishing you all a lovely day,
Mouse xxx

Mouse is on the road again...

Hey hey! Or should that be Hej hej!  Miss Mouse is back on the road! No more silly travel ban.

It's been okay - sort of - doing my job by telephone, conference call and e-mail but there is just something missing - there is something about looking people in the eye, sharing a coffee, sharing frustrations, being able to laugh at the complexity of the Cheese Ordering process and working together to try to make it just a little bit better.

The other aspect of travelling is, well, the actual travelling.  Having two hours of literally airtime, up in the air, as opposed to Mouse Radio, gives my brain a bit of exercise.  Sure, sometimes I read a book - Mouse Mystery is my favourite - or I have a little snuggle sleep, but I also get to think, think and just think some more about how to make the ordering better for the Farmers.

And this also leads me to think about hotels I have stayed in.  I always used to stay in the same one - The Hilton - which sounds very posh but was actually just nice and clean.  Once when I turned up, there was no booking for me and I had to go to a different hotel - that was a RISK - what if there was no cheese? the beds were not nice? or no bath to have a lovely Mouse soak at the end of a busy day?  I found another one though and it's super 70s decor was quite fun. Once, however, I had a nasty shock when I opened my hotel door - a different hotel again, because I was over when a big trade fair was taking place and the usual haunts were all booked up.  The hotel room was small. The view was of a yard. The room was hot and the pipes were noisy.  But that wasn't the problem. There, on the bed, staring at me, were...

...THESE THREE.  Just sitting there.  Just like that!  I was thankful that they weren't cats, but they still scared me out of my fur.  They explained to me that they were for sale and placed there to encourage guilt ridden travellers to purchase them for their children, to compensate for their absent parents.  However, to be placed out in the open in a hotel room where, well, anyone can stay, puts them in a very vulnerable position. You wonder why they are huddled together?

I am travelling back to Sweden next week and I'm trying out yet another new hotel.  This one promises breakfast AND an evening buffet! I have it on good authority from a colleague that the buffet is A-OK, and it is very close to the OST shop just in case I get nibbly.  For those of you who don't know, OST means...

...CHEESE  :-D

Big Cheesy Love
Mouse xx

Mousehog Day...

After a lovely long Christmas break, it's back to work with polished whiskers, slicked back fur, a shiny new diary and a backpack full of enthusiasm and resolutions.

I got back to work a whole 2 days before the Farmers, and most of the Suppliers, so I have a lovely time, tidying up my e-mails, going down the Cheese Order list, looking at the Cheese Order forecast for what should be coming up, and I am prepared and calm.  I write neat lists in my diary and type away on my new shiny laptop. I'm so pleased to have one that fits my paws.

When I last went to Sweden, for the Big Meeting, we decided to hold the Big Meeting every month and that it would be a jolly useful forum to discuss Cheese Orders - both current and the ones coming up.  The Suppliers who keep the cows for the milk for the cheese, and the Suppliers who do the packaging would both come, and the Nice Lady who is the independent body Cheese Integrator would come.  The Rare Beast would come (he is now the Supplier with the Cows - remember?).  All of the farmers would attend - the ones who supply the restaurants, the ones who supply the farm shops, and even the really big wholesale ones, so that we could really understand the cheese requirements in plenty of time and get them ordered.

So, it was agreed.  It was written down and everything.

So I set up the meeting. I invited all of the people I needed to invite.  I booked a big meeting room.  I planned the flights.

And then I got an e-mail from the Chief Farmer:-

From:-Chief Farmer

To:- Mouse

Subject:- Cheese Delivery Meeting

Dear Mouse,

What is this meeting? Who told you to set it up?

Farmer.

My reply:-

From:- Mouse

To:- Chief Farmer

Subject:- Re: Cheese Delivery Meeting

Hello Mr. Farmer Sir,

It is the meeting we agreed on at the Big Meeting.  It was written down.  It is about managing the Cheese Orders.

Mouse.

And then...

From:- Chief Farmer

To:- Mouse

Subject:- Re: re: Cheese Delivery Meeting

Dear Mouse,

Please cancel this meeting.  I will set one up.

Farmer.

I was a little bemused by this, as in the writing down of the original Big Meeting it clearly said:-

Arrange regular Big Meetings - MOUSE.

So - nothing happens for the remainder of the time before Christmas.  This week I get a call from one of the Suppliers with the cows asking me if the Big Meeting is happening.  I explain the situation.  A short while later he calls me back.  The meetings have been arranged.  He is not invited. I am not invited.  The Nice Lady from the Cheese Integration Board is not invited.  My bosses boss has been invited!  The Nice Lady's bosses boss has been invited! The Rare Beast has been invited! A man who has left the company has been invited!

So the meeting planned by the people who own the end to end Cheese Ordering process, who should attend, are not invited, but a random gaggle of people at the wrong level to be effective, but are nevertheless VERY IMPORTANT are invited.

I think I may give up.

And then, from another area, I get a call this morning.  'Mouse - I need to order some Cheese.  I need a specialist blend of Cheese for a huge order, which will span the globe.  I have promised that we will use a special blend of herbs from a 3rd Party Supplier and the Milk and Packaging Suppliers must incorporate this into production.  I haven't written the requirements yet.  We need the cheese in 4 weeks.

Repetitively yours,

Mouse x