My thoughts on getting older whilst at a boring luncheon

We had a (painful) “Analyst Lunch” today which basically is a lunch that they hold for analysts and directors after a whole bunch of juniors leave, thereby loading you up with an Clive-Palmer-arseload of work. They have lunch to see that “everything’s under control” and “no one’s overworked” but really they quite obviously don’t care as evidenced by the fact that they are asking those questions to begin with. It’s just a token attempt at “culture”. Potentially to prove to HR that the reason that they have the highest attrition rate in the bank is not their fault it’s more a “generational change”…reasoning that sounds more deluded than those who actually think that Andrew Bolt’s mouth spurts out ‘journalism’ and is not just his second arsehole. 

Anyway back to lunch. The topic quickly moved on to buying houses because apparently after 3 years in banking you should be in a position to buy a house in an inner city suburb. WRONG. I’m not sure what I found more preposterous. The fact that someone should be able to buy a house who only 3 years ago was drunk running straight at street signs at uni, or the fact that post-GFC this is not possible unless you’re amongst those still attached at your mum’s teat living at home. Anyway it just occurred to me how much my age group was changing. When previously my Facebook newsfeed was full of drunken photos from parties, it was now filled with engagement, weddings, baby photos. And consistent to this trend, our lunch amongst analysts quickly turned into a 60 minute discussion about chimneys. Yep…chimneys. #boring #snore #coma

I’m pretty sure when you start talking about chimneys as opposed to the incredible lack of resources issue in your team, you really are literally blowing smoke.