Don't get me Wrong

Don't get me wrong, Doodles is a nice guy. You're expecting a "but" there, and I thought I could leave it as a rhetorical one, if only there was such a thing. I had to lose a body a few months back because a given market is no longer a company priority. Since then, my remaining body (sorry, I should call her a resource, perhaps even a person) has been supporting that low priority market and not doing her real job - that being, whatever I tell her to do. Poor Anne gets emails from Doodles, forwards to me (if he hadn't) and then shakes in her seat until I notice the email, or until she can attract my attention and ask if she's allowed to do the work for him. The poor woman has kittens, having no ability to make her own decisions, and no desire to second guess me. I'm happy to ignore his emails - his market, not my problem.
Don't get me wrong, I'm a really nice guy - especially to my crew. I make sure I tell them that at least once a week. But I don't think anyone could make Anne feel any more secure in her job. Let's face it, she saw what happened to her former co-worker. We sent him off with an over-sized card in compensation for the amount of remorse. It wasn't my decision. In fact, if anyone had asked which of the two of them I would prefer to have lost, I would have been stumped for several seconds.

Anyway, Doodles, who apparently has no time to do anything for himself, and has a staff of one who spends more time in hospital than most people spend reading emails or writing blogs, didn't beg for my help, he merely dumped it and ran. I've been helping him out because I'm a nice guy (remember?) but no more. I fumed my way off to FO, just to make my feelings felt on a wider scale and because I was ignoring Doodles' email. FO's eventual solution was to gather a scattering of folk around the conference phone to find out what the hell Doodles was really after. Fair enough; I'd just assumed he was talking out of his posterior.
Don't get me wrong - FO has his moments of clarity - but this was just another opportunity for him to waffle. I'd already done my Friday afternoon, post-lunch, avoid-doing-anything-productive-while-your-sugar-level-drops seminar, introducing all my girls to what I used to do when I was a real researcher, and letting them all have nap-time away from the boisterous laughter of the admin staff in the lunch room. Now was supposed to be my time to snooze.
FO finished with a list of objectives (surprise, surprise) written on my post-it notes, with my pen (in his hand-writing), ensuring that Doodles ended up having to do most things himself - somehow. There was talk of him hiring his girlfriend in the short term. There was a general sigh of relief around the table. Arkel, in particular, had kept his mouth shut to protect his offsider, limiting his twitching with a great deal of strain showing on his face.
Don't get me wrong, I'm quite happy to do the odd thing for Doodles when the mood takes me, he can find me, and I can't think of anything less demeaning for Anne to do at the time, or quickly enough. I am not, however, going to run his personal work pool from a distance, using my bodies. I've got enough problems ensuring that my empire doesn't shrink. All my girls are being sucked into my research, and I'm trying to get Arkel to lend me his. I've written him an email, but he doesn't seem to be responding too quickly.