Belated Christmas wishes and joys

Today I was so bored I actually took the time to look through the vendor database emails. Bear in mind I haven’t even looked at my in-box (careful…) for this for at least a month and have fully given up on prioritising anything to do with it. I’m hoping to palm it off on to Ms Rigsby at some point and mentioned this in my annual review to Harley who wasn’t even sure they would be using it any more. Just as I thought, total waste of time and effort and my brain cells. I’ve half a mind (well part of it is still functioning) to force them to ram it into Crapbags. Maybe I’ll start some kind of protest and sit and cry in the middle of the office until they do. Something to consider.

Anyway, I’ve been clicking through the emails (65% of which are from Mr Isbor shouting at me about some kind of deal….and delete!) and have come across some lovely Christmas greetings from across the globe! How did I miss these wonderful messages?! How rude of me! I feel I should reply in turn to each and every one but unfortunately have missed the boat as far as Crimbo is concerned. Perhaps a New Year greeting? Something else to consider.

Of course I’m going to share some of them with you, it’d be rude not to.

Dear Nancy,

Looking backwards, it was my great pleasure to have known you and your company. (Why am I dead now? And who are you by the way?) We look forward to working you in the New Year!

Christmas time is here. In the season of joy I present my sincere wishes and kind thoughts, wishing you a prosperous 2011. Merry Christmas!

Best Wishes!

Dear Nancy/Gunner,

How are you?

As the Christmas is coming , I'm wishing you peace, joy and happiness through the Christmas and the coming year.

Hope all your Christmas dreams come true!

Sincerely

Dear leader: (looks like I've been promoted!)

Have a nice day!

I am hoping your Christmas is full of joy and sending wishing from me for 2011!!

Just to let you know we are major producing seamless carbon steel pipe, ERW Straight seams steel , spiral pipe, Oil casing and pipe tube ,size:1/2 -24” .it is our advantage on this aspect.when you have a new order,please do not hesitate to contact with me.

I hope can get your information as soon as possiable.

B.Regards in advance.

Dear Nancy Clueless

How are you? wish you fine in this Christmas.

Could you please let us know how our products grab you or your clients? any information are welcome. thanks.

This comes from someone with the email address that shows up in my in box as ‘False’:

Dear Sir:

One thing I'd like to tell you that the company from CN right now hold some offshore materials for looking for the marketing, do you have any resources to find the work load for these?

We hope you have a christmas and good new year!

Best Regards!

Dear Manager,

Nice day!

Are you interested in any items? If so, please tell me. Low price and high quality for you.Welcome to visit our company. If you need, we can send the sample!!

We are looking forward to receiving your reply!

Thanks and many greetings over the season

Nancy Z (another Nancy! I might respond to this one….)

See you in 2011 people! Many greetings and wishes and joy and that all your dreams be coming true!

2 sugars please

If you are one of the unfortunate (few – it seems) to be working in the limbo that is the days falling between Christmas and New Year then I feel for you, I really do. As I am one of these unfortunates and so far it’s been dull, weird and well, dull.

Yesterday there were 2 of us in. Me and Moody and that was it. As you can imagine it was a simply enthralling day full of witty conversation and banter and I was loathed to leave the office as soon as I could. Please note the sarcasm in that last sentence. The sound of my typing was deafening, I had 3 cups of tea simply to pass the time and the toilet breaks that followed the tea drinking (goes straight through me don’t you know) also managed to use up a few minutes in an otherwise tedious day. Plus ironically I had nothing to do. Well technically there were many things I could have been getting on with but none of them important or urgent and so the motivation to do any of them was severely lacking. Thank god for the interweb and FaceAche chat is all I can say. I made it until just before 4pm and then gave up and went home – and only that far because Harley kept on emailing me from home and I had to reply to show I was actually in and I got caught talking to Moody about his daughter’s recent purchase of a shot gun.

This morning I decided to come in a little later and thank christ there were another 7 people in the office. I managed to dwindle the first 20 minutes talking to Gunner about our respective Christmases and everything zipped along until about 10.30am when I realised I had nothing to do again. Back on the web but it was a lot quieter than yesterday so I was left to my own devices. Gunner was only in today for this week, mainly to escape his home for one day of sanity (I know, if you’re looking for that in this place then feck only knows what your house is like!) and planning to make an early exit anyway. He informed me that his brood would be coming into the office later and then heading off to lunch.

By ‘brood’ I mean his good wife (who I met at the Crimbo bash and she’s quite a scary lady with a very firm handshake) and 4 children. All the kids are under the age of 12 and have very Irish names and from his stories sound like a right handful. Well at about 2pm I got to experience the Gunner clan in person. They all came clambering over the desks, hanging off Dad and his chair and asking a million questions.

“Is this your desk?” “Is that your computer?” “Why does that poster say ‘Fuck this I’m going home’?” (erm…) “Do they call you Dad here?”

Have you seen the film Daddy Day Care? Well it was a bit like that. You know in movies when kids go into their parents office and cause chaos by putting their pet frog in the coffee machine or accidentally shredding the bosses best tie – while it’s still attached to the boss? They don’t make that shit up, its from someone’s own personal experiences! They were pushing each other around on the chairs, crashing into things, putting post-it notes over everything, making the water cooler overflow, playing with staplers – it was, well actually it was quite entertaining. I can see why Gunner is tired all the time. Like being in a Starbucks on a Saturday morning.

So they all went off to lunch in one of those big cartoon balls of dust with legs and dolls and racing cars flying about and all again was quiet. Then the Portuguese lady who comes round and clears all the cups and plates and things from people’s desks every afternoon and who doesn’t speak a lot of English showed up. We did our usual ‘hello’ and asked about each others Christmases not really understanding what the other was saying but getting the general gist and all was fine and normal. Then a moment later I get a tap on the shoulder and she is looking very confused. In her hand she is holding an empty coffee mug from Gunner’s desk with a post it note stuck to it saying ‘Daddy’s Mug’. Should she clear it? Did he want to keep it? There was a far more confusing conversation as I tried to explain why it was on there “er his children were here (various hand signals) – writing on the mug…erm…” in the end I just took the post it off and told her not to worry about it. Kids eh?

The childer returned an hour or so later in another whirl wind and more chaos ensued while Gunner tried to finish off his work before he headed home with them. Eventually they were placated with tea and biscuits and one of them even made me a cup of tea. Well trained, I like it. It did make it seem like I was in Starbucks even more though with a hot beverage in my hand. Just need an overpriced muffin and a pram rammed into my right ankle and I’m there!

Warning: Crossbow fire in the localised area

Bah humbug! There is a distinct lack of Christmas cheer round the office today. It’s feckin’ stress city and I can hear phone’s being slammed down, voices raised and cursing left, right and centre. It’s always like this in this department leading up to the festive season, too much to do with that ever approaching deadline. Some people seem to be taking this more to heart than other though. Today it is Andre’s turn and boy when she is angry well…you’d better get out of the line of fire (quite literally when she’s got her crossbow out) and quickly! I’ve been in meetings with her where she’s got a bit irate about something and there has been fist slamming on the desks and the petulant child voice has come out on more than one occasion.

Not sure what her beef is today but she has shouted at a lot of people on the phone and then slammed it down. It’s raised a few eyebrows this side of the desk dividers anyway. Earlier Moody was talking to me about something and I was trying to earwig in on what Andre was screeching about down the blower and had to ask Moody to repeat himself because I blatantly hadn’t been concentrating. Ooops! She’s pissed off about EVERYTHING and possibly edging her way on to Santa’s naughty list.

Andre’s also been complaining about the meal we had last week for the department Crimbo lunch. In fact this week I had to make a complaint to the restaurant because Andre told me she had an ‘attack’ on the way home as they had stuck something she is allergic to in the food. She is allergic to E202 Potassium Sorbate and Soya Lecithin which basically means she turns down anything except her own home (medieval) cooking, KitKats and Walkers plain crisps (which she eats about 10 bags/bars a day of). I’m not sure what this ‘attack’ consisted of – maybe she was attacked by a pack of soya on the tube? Some killer Potassium trying to get her phone off her? I told the restaurant in advance about her allergies but obviously they had over looked something. Anyway I emailed the woman there on Monday and she called me yesterday leaving a message then emailed me asking how ‘he/she’ was.

You see Andre’s real name is a bit ambiguous (like the rest of her) when it comes to gender. Made me snigger anyway.

I rang her back today:

“We’re really sorry if your colleague was ill because of the food at the restaurant, how is er…is it he or she?”

“Well I know it’s hard to tell looking at her… Oh you mean the name?”

I know I am sounding massively unsympathetic but she’s the kind of person who would totally play on this kind of this (Andre I mean, I’m not sure if the lady at the restaurant is actually allergic to anything) and big up these allergies just for a bit more attention. She goes on about them enough. Any birthday’s or celebrations that she hasn’t cooked for and it’s “oh no, sorry I can’t eat that because of the preservatives” – but you can eat those 2 KitKats and 4 packets of crisps sitting on your desk? Riiiiiiiight. A friend of mine pointed out that it would be near impossible for a doctor to figure out something that specific you were allergic to unless you died because of the ‘attack’, normally it’s a shrug and you’re sent home with a pack of antihistamines and an adrenaline pen.

She also said that if Andre didn’t share what the ‘attack’ was, then she would bet a bottle of cheap Californian wine that Andre pooed in her Lord of the Rings robe and hobbit tights on the way home. I’m not sure that was the case but I almost pooed my pants laughing at the idea of it.

So the restaurant are looking into the situation to try and figure out what the heck they fed her had those ingredients (good luck with that). Once they do I’m not sure what they will do with that information but hey at least they are showing some genuine concern (yeah concern we won’t go back next year and spend another couple of grand…).

I have 48 minutes of this cheerless office to endure before I break up for my school holidays. So there will be a break from the blog (not unusual nowadays I know) until the 29^th Dec when I am back and probably the only person in the office. Looking forward to that then!

Wishing you all a Merry Crimbo or whatever it is you celebrate at this time of year and all the best for 2011. I’m sure it will bring us more amusing tales from Office Strangeways if nothing else.

Don’t mind if I do…

The past 2 weeks seem to have been mainly working and drinking and eating all interwoven into each other. This is both a good and bad thing. Good because obviously there is the drinking and the eating and bad because this comes at a time when I should really be doing the working. Luckily now the working bit has died down…but then so has the drinking and eating. Hmmm, didn’t plan that too well did I?

We’ve had company celebrations (non-Christmas ones these) with nibbles and wine and when they ran out of wine (yes we drank them dry) rum and gin and vodka in the afternoon on a Wednesday. I was drunk by 4pm, eating a curry by 7pm, sober by 8.30pm and had a hangover by 9pm. Weird. Then there was the department Xmas lunch which yours truly arranged. Thank goodness it all seemed to go off without a hitch and everyone had a good time, no one punched anyone, fell in a river or went missing. Many pats on the back for Nancy for that one.

Actually it was pretty uneventful but still a lot of fun. We all went by cab and as we arrived ordered some drinks at the bar. Ginger was tucking into a lovely glass of rose champagne when I got there so I ordered the same. Then sit down for the meal, order some wine and chow down. My table consisted of Ms Rigsby, Harley, Ginger and a guy from the other end of the office who at work is a total tosser and out of work actually quite nice which was a good mix. We spent a lot of the evening winding up Ms Rigsby (well it is SO easy to do!) about the waiters and various other members of staff she might fancy around the place. I told her eventually that if she stopped rising to it I’d get bored and stop doing it but she didn’t seem to learn her lesson. I think the fact she was quite smashed after 2 glasses of wine didn’t help matters either and I quite enjoyed, particularly at the end of the evening when she kept putting her head on Harley’s shoulder and going “Oh Harley I’m soooo drunk!” Bless. These young folk don’t know how to hold their drink.

Harley was also on good form and knocking them back. He was also quite keen on ‘getting a round in’ seeing as he wasn’t actually paying for them. Completely ratted by the time I left and he had to get back to the countryside. He did make it, getting an ill-advised kebab along the way.

As I was in charge of booking the place Moon Monkey kept on asking me how the tab was going. My main response tended to be “I have no idea” and I would get a worried glance back. Look mate, I booked the table, you got your turkey what more do you want? Plus if I told him he might cut it off….. Eventually after Harley had got the 59^th round in MM came to the bar and asked me to close the tab which I did. I was bought the bill by a very nice and polite waiter and then after a quick glance gave it to the Moon Man and ran away.

£2,500 (including a £300 tip)…

After reading the bill we needed to re-open the tab to get him a stiff drink. Then he went off to argue the toss over the tip as the service wasn’t THAT amazing and muttering something about ‘late vegetables’.

“Just put it through expenses MM”

“Do you know who my manager is?! The head of finance!!”

“Calm down, look do you want another drink?”

“Oh ok”

That’s the thing about the Moon Man, he might be a bit of a stipler for the rules but he likes a good drink. Thank god. Anyway I heard on the grape vine that Finance spent just as much and there’s less of them than us so ner.

£2,500?! I can hear you screaming it from here. Yes well it turns out that glass of rose champagne? £11. That bottle of wine they were ordering on the table next to me? £45. The champagne cocktail that Gunner got for Ms Rigsby to get her drinking again? £13. I think perhaps the choice of venue might account for the final tab.

Well I do have exceptional taste.

So that ends the Christmas celebrations here at Freaky Central. It’s been a good run and I have made the very most of it. I’m just looking forward to the New Year and what socials, celebrations and soirees 2011 brings. They’re bound to run out of money eventually so we need to make the most of this while we can!

The fall of the freaks

A couple of blogs ago I revelled in the departure of one very annoying temp and I believe I said “one freak down....” Whilst at the time I was overcome with unprecedented joy at the sudden absence of she who mumbles and mishears I didn’t really mean to rid myself of an entire department of them. It seems I may have jinxed myself.

Moody is leaving.

Mr Moody New Zealander, he who forever hovers by my desk with a question pending, he the all unknowledgeable of Crapbags, the master whiner of everything, the man who is never happy. Yes him. He’s off.

This news was broken rather suddenly and abruptly by Harley who unceremoniously gathered us all around Moody’s desk to tell us what was happening. There is always this fear by the management in my department that as soon as something newsworthy is learnt they have to tell people straight away because they’re worried we might find out on the grape vine. This is all the interesting and juicy news of course, not anything that we might benefit in hearing first hand, like redundancies, a new starter or changes to your job. Seeing as we didn’t have a team meeting any time soon and all of the meeting rooms were occupied then the space by Moody’s computer was deemed the place to disclose this shocker. I was genuinely shocked. He never said anything to me before hand and a lot of people asked me if I had known after the announcement. “Surely he must have said something to you?” Nope. Sniff, sniff...

I of course walked up to him and slapped him across the back of the head straight afterwards – “kept that one quiet didn’t you? Hmmm?!!?” From what he said I don’t think he had much choice in the matter, he’s not leaving of his own accord. He’s a contractor and we don’t “do” contractors any more, we do staff instead. At Moody’s age he’s not interested in going staff so there’s no more contract for him sadly.

“So I’m off in January”

“But you’re on annual leave for 3 weeks in January?!”

“Yep, I’ll be back for a bit after to hand over to CJ and then I’m off”

“CJ? They are going to replace you aren’t they? They’re not going to dump me with her!”

“I’d assume so, I’m not sure.”

“DON’T LEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAVVVVVEEEEEEEE MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Calm down Nancy, and get up off the floor....stop hugging my leg people are staring.”

Yes, you see not only do I lose the one person who seems to know everything I don’t (which is to be fair quite a substantial amount) but I am left to fend for myself and go to CJ with any questions. Now I don’t know a great deal but she by all accounts knows a lot less. In fact she often comes to me for help. Ironic really when her salary is probably 3 times mine. So in a nutshell I am fucked. As from January things are potentially going to get even busier round here as I take on Moody and CJ’s work load (she doesn’t actually DO anything you know! Silly.) and try to fend for myself. Yes, yes, there is the possibility of a new Moody but that won’t be in January (not at the rate our HR team move to employ anyway) and he’ll be new and shiny and have questions all of his own!

Selfish is what it is. Retiring at his age, tsk. Actually I have no idea how old he is, only that he has a big white beard and heart condition and threatens to retire every other week. So I’m assuming close to retirement. Knowing Moody he’ll be well beyond it, I always got the impression he likes to not be at home for a large part of the day. You know, one overhears phone calls...

Jinxed it I did. I take it all back. I love the freaks, they can all stay! I’ll buy them lunch! Even CJ! Don’t leave me freaks! Please!

Dance floor action

Hello strangers, have you missed me? Well you know they always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’ve missed you if that’s any consolation, I’ve missed the blog, the ranting, the moaning the gossip and scandal...oh stop, I’m welling up....

Would you be shocked if I told you that it has been work stopping me from my beloved blogging? Yes work. That’s what’s been keeping us apart, eating away at the hours in the day until suddenly it’s gone 5pm and I’ve yet to put fingers to keyboard and update you with the latest from Losing their Faculties Towers. As it is I’m writing this in the evening on my own time – yes I’m that dedicated.

It’s been over a week since I last blogged and I think holidays aside that’s the longest I’ve ever gone since I started this. I can only offer my sincerest apologies and pray that it doesn’t happen again. I make no promises though as at the moment it’s rather manic in the world of contracts to say the least. This always happens at Christmas, people suddenly realise they really need that bit of equipment they were thinking about buying 8 months back and now it’s URGENT. I’ve had that word pop up a lot in emails, along with that little red exclamation mark people tag on to their Outlook messages. How can everything be urgent? Really? You mean those 24 emails I came into this morning? All but 3 were urgent? I think maybe in my world they are not – annoying yes, tedious yes, making me stay late at work again yes, but urgent no. I don’t think that society will fall or a small child will die if I don’t get this done before COB tomorrow. Someone might get a bit annoyed and call me up asking pointed questions about their urgent email they sent me the morning before and why I hadn’t realised just how urgent it was but no one will lose a limb or close a hospital.

Oh I’m sorry, and here was me sat here making origami swans and catching up on-line for the latest Home and Away gossip because I was at such a loose end. Its fine, I have nothing better to do.

The other thing that doesn’t help (and I REALLY never thought I would hear myself say this) is all the Christmas socials that eat into a lot of the working hours this time of year. For example this week alone I am out the office quaffing free wine and nibbles on 2 afternoons. Hurrah for free food and wine but boo for even less time to sort out all the urgent shit. I think this is what they call ‘time management’ and ‘multi-tasking’ but you see I forgot how to do that in the 18 months I was sat here doing bugger all and slowly losing my mind. I’ve learnt at least that it takes your brain a while to get back up to speed when you got from desperately trying to find tasks to fill your day to having to find the days to complete your tasks.

Still, at least it makes the day go quicker and gives me a bit more fuel towards pushing for that pay rise. Oh yes, that pay rise will be mine * stares into distance with defiant look *

But enough of my moaning about work. “Shut up Nancy and tell us the gossip!” “What’s been happening? Something must have happened, it’s Christmas after all!” Too true, too true. Item number one would be the work Christmas bash which happened on Friday. This is the big one, the whole company as opposed to the department do (that’s the one where people punch each other and fall in open water and go missing for days...) which is this week – so hopefully more on that coming soon.

This was 500 people in a massive marquee being plied with more free drink and food, with more of an emphasis on the drink. It also involved a very long coach journey in rush hour traffic which made everyone all the more thirsty. I ended up sitting next to Moon Monkey on that ride (it was him or CJ and he seemed the lesser of 2 evils after Ms Rigsby ditched me for a seat at the front with Andre) and he commented that if our department had organised this shin dig there would have been a bar on the coach. You have to admire the man for his priorities at least. I also learnt that Mrs Moon Monkey is preggers again – abstaining from the work party due to morning sickness. Well congrats to you Moon Man, another monkey for the clan. I made polite conversation, tried to be as witty as possible and seem knowledgeable about some important business trip he and the other 2 stooges are organising (mainly from over hearing Kirstie on the phone...see I pay attention to the useful stuff)...once again lying further foundations for the pay rise...it will be mine...

Once at the venue I ditched the boss (never seen to be socialising too much, I ain’t no brown noser) and partook in 2, 3 or 4 glasses of champagne. Seeing as my total food intake to that point in the day had been 2 Weetabix and a Super Noodle I was dicing with possible early drunken embarrassment but I managed to hold my own, even talking to the guy in the kilt who was grabbing his sporran an awful lot... Then on to the meal which was.....meh well a meal....more wine and then more wine. The entertainment was varied, a band, a DJ, some of those bucking broncos where you try to stay on by clinging on to whatever you can find and damaging your thigh muscles as they clench the side of the bull, meerkat racing (not real ones), and some virtual golf and skiing. Oh and the free bar.

The dance floor was highly entertaining where I was introduced to a colleagues wife. This was one of those occasions when on introduction you’re saying “Hi, nice to finally meet you” and thinking “really? You’re with HIM?” Yes she was distinctly younger and prettier – I can only imagine she’s waiting until he pops his clogs. I wasn’t the only one thinking this before you start judging (I can hear you), I had a couple of looks even from the Moon Man at the side of the dance floor and a raise eyebrow and nod of the head from Bog Monkey confirmed it. I’m not sure if anyone got drunk enough to ask her why she was with him or said something along the lines of “wow, you’re a lot younger than I expected...like A LOT” but it’s a distinct possibility.

There was also a Nazi photographer in the form of a new lady from one of the other departments who Gunner and I have labelled as ‘scary’. She is. Feckin’ scary.

“COME ON GIRLS GET TOGETHER FOR A PHOTO! QUICKLY NOW!”

You can see the fear in Ms Rigby’s eyes on the ones she emailed round today – someone said it could be that red eye effect but I can see she’s wondering if this image will be used against her in a court of law.

The best thing by far on the dance floor was not the incredibly drunken midget from Accounts with her very embarrassed boyfriend looking on, nor was it the sight of Gunner with a bottle of stray white wine in his hand jumping about to Squeeze, it wasn’t even the time I got a little over excited with my dance moves and managed to smash my mobile and the contents of my bag on the floor (damn girly handbags). The best sight was Andre. Sober Andre, wearing her purpose made bright blue with gold trimming 1400’s style frock, shocking red lipstick, dancing as if her life depended on it. I must say she’s a devoted fan of Brit Pop. She was going mental!! We of course encouraged it all the way and danced like mentals next to her to keep her going – lots of fists in the air, hair swinging about as she head banged and look out for those hips! They’ll get ya! Amazing. I do hope Photo Nazi got some shots, perhaps even a sneaky video. We’ll soon find out I’m sure.

All in all it was a fab evening, I’ll say this for the Nuthouse – they know how to organise a good party. A free cab journey home too to boot (once we found it “I’ve been calling your phone” – oh you mean the phone which is currently in pieces in my shit girly handbag?) with Ms Rigsby...I think I was talking quite a bit, not sure what about, she doesn’t seem to remember either so we are safe there. You can’t go wrong can you? I may have sold my soul to the corporate folk but they have paid me back generously in the social sense. Now this week we have more drinks on Wednesday to celebrate something fabulous that’s happened somewhere (I didn’t take notice of the details, I simply clicked on ‘Accept’ when I read the words ‘drinks and canapés’) and then the department Xmas lunch on Thursday. You can take your non-free public services Christmas dinner at Pizza Hut and shove it up your do-gooding, giving back to the community arse...I’m off to the champagne bar! Hic!

Adios Temp!

Jesus look at the time, its 5pm already. And I’ve achieved nothing today, absolutely jack. Well, if you count a 1 page guide to requisitions, attending 2 meetings, finalising the department Christmas party and struggling with writing my appraisal nothing. Actually that sounds like a lot but it really doesn’t feel like it. Especially as the past 2 hours have been on the latter, me sat here with my brain dribbling out of my ears as I try to hash together words to describe how utterly amazing I am in my job. Why do I care so much anyway? It’s not like Harley is going to read any of it!

But to business. I left you on Friday with the tantalising news that Temp has now moved on, gone away, bye bye, so long, she’s off, toodleoo, cheerio, don’t come back and ta ta. And in a hurry as well, here one minute annoying the shit out of me with her repetitive cries of “IT’S SNOWING AGAIN!” and “are you ok? You look suicidal?” and the next running out the door like a possum after a ripped bin liner! I’m just trying to remember on which day this actually happened, I think it may have been Wednesday (last week is a bit of a blur – the cold and flu drugs didn’t help matters either) – so Thursday and Friday were blissful and today…well it’s like she was never here.

As you may have noticed there has was some snow last week in the UK and as per usual the country ground to a halt. Trains not running, lorries jack-knifing on the motorways, Tesco running out of kiwi fruits, children unable to get their daily education. All of this of course is not important, what is important is what snow boots Temp should buy for her stomping around town. What type of boot, what colour, which shops she had tried, which branches of those shops, how much she should spend, were wellies an option? I don’t feckin’ care, just buy some boots and stick them on your feet! Why do you think I care about this? What did I ever say to make you think I was even mildly interested in your winter footwear?! Plus of course when it did start snowing there was the wetting of the pants in excitement. Thank god she left before the big snowfall here Thursday or it would have been unbearable…..ugh, I can’t even begin to think about it. Shudder.

So Wednesday.

I was sat doing my best to ignore her for most of the morning and she had been fart-arsing around with some of the girls from Accounts, going round taking photo’s of everyone dressed in red (for World Aids/HIV Day) so I was luckily spared the shrieking and incessant chatter. Ginger did point out that she was actually slacking off for a good portion of the day but to be honest if she wasn’t sat next to me I just didn’t care. So at lunch time she takes a call on her mobile in hushed tones and scurries off to a meeting room somewhere. When she returns I carry on doing my best to ignore her and she scurries off once more in the direction of HR. At this stage I have minimum interest other than the fact she is NOT HERE.

Ten minutes later and she’s back, huffing and puffing and doing her best to get me to ask her what is wrong but I’m not giving in. Stay strong Nancy! Eventually she starts to whisper my name (it’s quite unnerving really) and again I refuse to acknowledge her unless she speaks to me in a normal voice.

“Nancy….Nancy…..NANCY”

Yes?

She spills the news. Turns out that was a call from another agency who have a job for her that is temping but indefinite and more money and also in the area she used to work in. What should she do?! She’s told HR the situation, she’d have to let them know by lunch time and it starts tomorrow. Oh the trauma!

“So what are you waiting for? Take the job”

Oh but it’s not that simple, you see Temp is deluded enough to think that she might be needed (or wanted) here beyond Christmas and if that is the case then she’d rather stay on. WTF? This job is practically permanent, in an area you have experience in and better paid and you want to stay because?

“You know, I really like it here and I don’t want to leave so if I can stay I will.”

Shit, shit, shit. She’s got to go, it’s our big chance. Get her out. She tells me that HR are emailing Harley to see what he says so she is waiting on hearing back from them. I’m not sure if the waiting is worse for her or me. Me, yes it is definitely me as I have to listen to this:

“Oh god I wish Harley would call me or email me, I really don’t know what to do, this is so hard, what would you do? Would you stay? I really don’t want to go but if it’s long term maybe I should, oh this waiting is awful (it’s been about 15 minutes), I can’t concentrate on anything, I’m so worried, I feel like crying, I know I’ve only been here a few months but I would really miss it and everyone, oh why doesn’t he email me, do you think he will email me or HR?”

Eventually I crack and tell her to email Harley. I insist she does, she should do it, really. Please. So that keeps her busy for at least 10 minutes. Then I have to listen to her read out the email (well I say listen, I watch her mouth open and close and nod as I pretend to) and tell her to send it. Thank fuck this does the trick and Harley calls her within 5 minutes. I hold my breath.

“He’s advised me to take the job. I think I’m, going to do that. But I feel so bad leaving you guys in the lurch (yeah because you have been such an asset to the team, wow how will we replace the gaping hole you leave behind?) so I think I am going to suggest I work weekends to finish off what I have left to do.”

Er? Why? I think between us we can handle some archiving and follow up the letters you have sent out. Jesus, she’s acting like she’s leaving some long legacy behind her and it’ll take months to hand over. As she scurries off to call the agency I hastily email Gunner who is working abroad that week:

From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 01 December 2010 13:32
To: Gunner
Subject: Amazing News

Alright globe trotter.

You probably already heard from Harley that Temp has a new job that starts tomorrow. I for one am over the moon. She has been killing me all day with her fretting and whining about what to do and waiting on Harley to let her know. I really am going to lamp her as a leaving present.

Anyway she has suggested to Harley that she works some weekends to finish off the archiving which Ginger and I think is feckin’ ridiculous. Harley is going to ask you about it – so heads up for that. I’ll tell her to finish as much as she can today (she’s done bugger all this morning apart from wander about with people taking photo’s for World Aids Day) and we can get it sorted between the rest of us?

What do you think?

From: Gunner
Sent: 01 December 2010 13:37
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Amazing News

Hello Nancy

I thought you'd be pleased.

I just finished a call with Harley and saw an e-mail from HR about this.

I told her she can fek off (Harley left it up to me).

Get Temp to show Ms Rigsby where she's up to on the archiving as she's pretty much up to date on the post & stuff, and she's not dumb so she can finish it off as & when. I only got Temp to do it so she could lock herself in the meeting room away from us.

I'll e-mail her if you want or do you want the pleasure of telling her to show Rigsby & then get lost?

Cheers Gunner

Phew, so no likelihood of her popping up again at any point. We’re covered, thank the lord.

Oh my god, she is actually going, I can’t believe it!! I am trying to suppress my joy but it is hard, thank god Kirstie is snowed in at home or I might not be able to contain myself. I am of course emailing her with constant updates.

So now begins the whole elaborate process of Temp showing Ms Rigsby what she needs to do. This actually takes about 7 minutes and Rigsby looks more than comfortable with it all. Well it’s not fucking rocket science is it? The rest of her afternoon is spent going round and telling various people the sad news she is leaving so abruptly, I think she is partially wounded and surprised by their lack of interest/sympathy. In fact since she has gone only one person has asked me where she is and that was the post room guy as he needed to give her a parcel. Seriously, she’s acting like a lifer, like we should have organised a going away party, gold watch and big ridiculous card signed by all and sundry. JUST HURRY UP AND LEAVE!

Finally her coat is on and she’s jotting down her email address and mobile number for me as I have told her I’ll see what I can do about getting her along to the department Xmas bash still (this isn’t going to happen but I thought I’d look like I’d make an effort) “well I was going to leave it with you anyway as I thought you know we’d be mates?” At this point I openly laugh in her face. “Er you don’t have to laugh about it” “Sorry, it was er, just the way you said it…” And on that note she is gone.

Wait, listen to that. Can you hear it?

That’s right it’s the sound of no Temp. It’s the sound of joy. It’s flippin’ music to my ears is what it is. Excuse me while I bask.

One freak down, several more to go.

Services disrupted due to snow

Sniff, sniff, cough, cough etc etc.

Nancy is not well; she has what is medically known as ‘the lurgy’. Cough, cough. She has still managed to battle into work through the snow and ice and in adverse weather conditions but the side effects of said lurgy have been (as well as the snot and lumpy cough) loss of appetite, lack of concentration and a strange tendency to talk about herself in the third person. This twinned with late starts, early finishes and a pile of work the size of Mount Edna has resulted in no blogging. She can not apologise enough for this. It is very unfortunate that this illness has fallen on this week in particular as there has been much to report.

For starters there is the story of how Temp no longer works here. For dessert there is the unparalleled joy and celebrating that Nancy has to convey to you about this.

Nancy would love to write about all these exciting tales but right now she is working off of 5 hours sleep, a Lemsip, the distraction of sneezing 14 times a minute and the desire to lie down and go to sleep in a warm and comfortable environment, i.e. her bed. Therefore she is instead taking herself off home and will hopefully be able to relay everything to you next week when she is refreshed, less bunged up and able to focus on the monitor a little better.

Hack, hack, flem, flem etc etc.

Stay safe in the snow people – happy weekends.

Tonight Matthew I am going to be….

17:53 and I’m still in the office and I’m actually doing some work as well – what’s that all about? Well it’s partly because I’m off out on the razz tonight and not meeting people until 7.30pm so it’s warmer to hang around here and partly because my hours yesterday ended up being 10.15am to 4.30pm. Oooops.

Anyway today has also turned out to be the longest work day known to mankind and not just because of the additional hours. I mean it’s dragged and dragged and 11am has felt like it should be 2pm and 2pm like it should be 4pm. Now it’s 6pm so I should practically be in bed surely? I’ll get me slippers….

What may have added to this slog is that there seems to of been an echo round the office, an echo of my name. A really whiny echo. That has got worse and worse as the day has gone on. “Naaaaaaancyyyyy?” You know that whiny pathetic voice people put on when they want to ask you a favour but are very conscious they have asked you 50 times previously in the last half an hour? That voice. I am so sick of it. I’m sick of the sound of my own name. I’m going to change it by deed poll. To something very offensive or silly so people won’t use it. Something like Titwank or Iamawhinybitch or Ilovehitler.

There have been 4 main culprits; Temp (of course), Ms Rigsby, Andre and CJ. No surprises there then. In Ms Rigsby’s defence she has been asking Temp most questions but of course Temp knows jack shit so she diverts her to me. In some cases I actually have a duet of “Naaaaaaancyyyyy’s” from them. I told them if they want to ask me anything tomorrow they have to by singing to me with backing singers and a wind quartet. They found this hilarious. I’m not sure why, I’m dead serious.

I suppose this is what happens when you have ‘the knowledge’ and other people don’t. In my case ‘the knowledge’….actually I feel that should have a capital letter – ‘The Knowledge’…yes, better…anyway as I was saying – in my case this is CrapBags. This works to my advantage because I gradually make myself a vital asset to the team and indispensible – mwahahahahaha! But on the other hand it also means I get a lot of whiny enquiries about the same thing over and over and over until I want to make them eat the instruction guide and wash it down with a glass of ‘get out of my face’. It’s a knife edge it really is. As much as it pains me to say this….I need this job (agh) and so I think I am going to have to take the whine in order to keep turning up at 8am….10.15am….well whatever time it is I rock up.

There is only so much one girl can take though and when it is accompanied by a hyperactive, over excited, highly irritating 24 year old Australian who is bouncing about the office shrieking “IT’S SNOWING AGAIN!” – well then you have to start considering if your sanity is worth more than your pay cheque.

Oh hang on a minute I just remembered where I work, sanity isn’t in the job description is it? Well, easy decision to make then.

Cancel my appointments…

I’m currently in bad need of a nap. There was a call to the pub at lunch time today for one of the netball girl’s birthdays and like the true friends that we are Gunner and I faithfully attended. Gunner was also gagging for a pint after the week he’s had and I will take any opportunity to get away from conversations about the possible pending snow (“so Nancy do THEY look like snow clouds?!”) and to also consume a pint of Addlestones.

So 1 pint (yes I was very good) and 1 massive fish pie with chips (“could I please replace my salad with chips because I am a big heffer and don’t think salad will be enough…..oh look at the size of that pie….must….finish….chips.”) later I am wanting to lay down in a quiet space somewhere and get the proverbial 40 winks. Luckily I have bugger all to do – correction I have lots to do but nothing urgent and that can’t be put off until next week – and people are leaving me alone so I can waft through the afternoon with one eye open.

Whilst at lunch Gunner got a phone call from Ginger asking why he wasn’t in a meeting he was meant to be attending. “Shit, totally forgot about that meeting – ah look my burger’s arrived!” 10 minutes later another phone call. “It’s ok, no one else turned up to the meeting so they cancelled it!” Hurrah! Much fun poking at Gunner and eating of carbs ensued. When I returned to my desk I noticed a little Outlook ‘reminder’ notice flashing at the bottom of my screen. Hmmmm, what could that be for? A meeting that is overdue by 55 minutes?.....Hang on I was meant to be in that meeting as well Gunner! Much poking fun at Nancy ensues. Must have been one of the 2 thousand meetings I have agreed to attend over the past month. A one hour reminder is just not enough, I need 1 day at least or don’t expect me to be rocking up with my note pad and pen.

We’ve had an invite for the rescheduled one on the 2^nd of December so I’ll try to arrange my social calendar around that one, he he.

In other news Ms Rigsby and I managed to turn up in identical outfits today. We’re both sporting what seems to be this year’s office winter look which is grey specked trousers, black shoes, a black turtle neck and glasses. We also both have brown hair so it’s a twin situation going on. Kirstie had had a lot of mileage out of it today. I’m not sure who is more embarrassed, Ms R because she doesn’t seem to be one for drawing attention to herself on purpose or me because I’m now feeling slightly self conscious of my H&M / Primarni combo compared to her far more expensive looking get up.

Temp mis-hearing of the day:

Nancy: “He’s working from home”

Temp hears: “He’s quite good looking”

No good asking me, I’m still trying to figure it out too.

Forecast

Temp is sat at her desk as I return from swearing at the photocopier for 15minutes. The time is 9.16am and she has been sat at her desk approximately 4 minutes. I have said good morning to her.

Temp: “So Nancy do you think it will snow NOW on Sunday?”

Nancy: “Why?”

Temp: “Because look how cold it is!”

Nancy: “I still don’t think it’s cold enough, what is it? 5 degrees out there?”

Temp: Looks at BBC Weather “Er yeah but it’s going to get colder by the weekend – Friday it’s like 1 degree!”

Nancy: “I dunno, maybe then.”

Temp: Looks at me with the injured expression of a child who has had her Smarties confiscated “But it could snow couldn’t it?”

Nancy: “I don’t know, I’m not fucking Michael Fish am I?!”

Temp: “Er who is Michael Fish?”

Nancy: “What? Oh jesus, never mind. I’m not a bloody weather man, check the web.”

Temp: “I have”

Nancy: “And does it say it’s going to snow?”

Temp: “Well it says ‘White Cloud’”

Nancy: “So it’s not going to then, according to the weather forecast.”

By now I might even be persuaded it would snow but I’m not going to tell her that because it’s much more entertaining to let her think it might not.

Nancy: “Anyway just because its cold doesn’t mean it will snow – you need precipitation don’t you?”

Temp: “Eh?”

Nancy: “You need clouds for a start and then it might snow. Snow clouds are normally a funny colour, you can tell by the look of them. And at the moment (points out window) it is bright sunshine and no clouds so currently there will be no snow.”

Temp: “But it might by the weekend?!”

Nancy: “I DON’T KNOW! I AM NOT WORKING AT THE MET OFFICE OR A FORMING NIMBOSTRATUS CLOUD!”

Temp: “But I really REALLY want it to snow! I’ve never seen it snow before!”

Nancy: “Well I don’t, it’s pretty for 5 minutes and then just a pain in the arse in this country. Last year it caused no end of chaos.”

Temp: “Awww, come on, you must like snow? Man I am going to be SOOOOO EXCITED if it snows! That would be awesome!”

Nancy: “Yeah well as long as it snows when I am out of the country at Christmas.”

Temp: “What? You’re going to the country this weekend?”

Nancy: Sigh. “No I said as long as it snows when I am out of the country at Christmas. Then I can sit indoors and eat and drink and not care about it. Anyway it’ll snow when you are in Germany at Christmas – it’ll be feckin’ freezing over there, take some layers.”

Temp: “WILL IT REALLY?!!”

Nancy: “Yeah check the weather for Munich and leave me the fuck alone.”

Temp: “What?”

Nancy: “I said check the weather in Munich and leave as soon as you can and get out of my face.”

Temp: “Eh?”

Nancy: “I said check the weather in Munich and….oh just check the weather.” Slams head repeatedly on desk until passes out.

Stupid Bloody Questions Day

I’m afraid I didn’t get the memo about Stupid Bloody Questions Day and so was not prepared for the barrage of ridiculous comments, queries and statements that have come from my left all morning. Seriously, I had no idea one person could talk so much shat and seem so clueless. It’s like dealing with an 11 year old and all with kid gloves in case she gets upset. If I don’t turn with a huge smile on my face and a “yes how can I help you?” straight away she looks like I have threatened to drown her kittens. If she hasn’t been in tears by the end of the month because I’ve asked her to ‘wait 5 minutes’ I will be surprised.

A snippet of the bollocks I have had to put up with today:

“Is Kingston colder than the rest of London?”

“Should I chase these people for this contract (this has been her job for the past 3 weeks)?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t you?”

“Well I thought they might be special”

“You know that guy I am seeing? He’s never seen the movie Anchor Man.”

“Hey why don’t you give that Vendor Database email to your stalker and pretend it’s your actual email address?”

“Why would I want to encourage him to contact me in any way, shape or form?”

“I dunno….”

“Hey I told the post room guy I could share your pigeon hole is that ok?”

Do I have any choice in the matter?

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look really moody.”

Only when you’re in the room.

“I can’t find this PO on CrapBags, I’ve checked everywhere but it won’t come up”

“What’s the number?”

“1234”

I look and find it straight away.

“I had a dream about a flying school bus that took me to work.”

Kirstie is having a small rant about Moon Monkey that does not involve Temp, I have my back to Temp and suddenly Kirstie’s expression changes and she says “Yeah why?” I turn around to see Temp with her ‘close to tears’ expression on her face and holding up a post-it note saying “Are U OK? :( “

A) Just ask, there is no need for passing notes, we’re not in Geography class any more

B) Butt out – this conversation does not involve you and still doesn’t

In response to an email sent round about World Aids Day for which I have volunteered and accidentally let slip this information:

“Do they still want volunteers?!”

“Er, probably not I’m sure there was a deadline”

She furiously types out an email asking if they need any more. I consider intercepting this and politely advising them to decline her offer.

“I wish I could look good in a Onesey (for those of you not in the fashion know how – this was me up until 2pm today – a Onesey is the new ‘must have’ of the cat walk that basically resembles an adult sized baby grow and will put you back £100. I would openly laugh and point at people wearing them in public.)”

And of course the ‘Um’. This prefixes anything she is about to say or ask me. It’s like a warning signal that she is about to talk. Quite often I have noticed the “Ummm….” Is followed by a huge pause - almost like she is trying to pull together all the words in her brain in to a coherent sentence. Then FINALLY when I have looked at her, waited and said “yes?!” she will continue but at the volume of a field mouse so I then have to ask her to repeat it 12 times. Kirstie is sure this is all a bid for attention, I think it’s just because Temp is a fucking idiot. You can form your own personal opinion.

Evacuation imminent

This morning we had a bit of excitement in the loony bin – or near by the loony bin anyway. At about 9am Andre called Kirstie to say she’d try to get into the park by the back entrance (easy…) but the police had cornered off the road. No idea why but she was a bit narked as she had to walk all the way round to the other side to gain entrance (careful…) This news of course immediately excited Temp and she went up a few octaves screeching about all the possible things it could be. Kirstie was getting weary about where this could lead to and that no amount of calming words would stop the barrage of ‘amazing’ and ‘cool’ that was about to be unleashed by her fellow antipodean so, she came up with a cunning plan…

Kirstie: “Hmmmm, I wonder what could be going on? You think we should go and look?”
Nancy: “I really can’t be arsed, I have just had my Weetabix and have a coffee on the go”
Kirstie: “Good point, why waste our old, tired legs – let’s send the children to look!”

She did of course mean the temps; we don’t actually technically employ any children in this office.

Kirstie: “HEY CHILDREN! RUN DOWN THE ROAD AND SEE WHAT’S GOING ON!”
Temp: “Do you mean me?”
Kirstie: “Yes, both of you – go on, go out and see why the police are there!”

Now if this had been me, even at the tender age of 24 I would have probably told Kirstie to bugger off. I would also not have wanted to venture back out into the cold, walk down the road and look like a twat asking some policemen why they had cornered off a road. Lucky for us the temps here are not those kinds of 24 years olds.

Temp: “REALLY? COOL! Come on Ms Rigsby lets go!”

She jumps up, grabs her coat and then a very confused Ms Rigsby who hasn’t quite cottoned on to who Kirstie was referring to as ‘children’ yet, let alone the fact she is now to be dragged down the street by a hyperactive, squealing work mate.

Ahhhh, silence. Good work Kirstie.

In the mean time I start up my morning FaceArse activities and stick in the police presence to my status. Lucky for me my friend’s brother is a copper locally and comes back to tell me it is in fact a WW2 bomb they have unearthed. Blimey, something interesting is actually going on for once and not another dull drugs bust. Hey we might even be lucky enough to be evacuated? I thought Andre would be fairly intrigued by this news so I tell her. She is in fact, much more intrigued than I had bargained for…

Andre: “WW2?! Really?”
Nancy: “Well he says it’s 65 years old so that would make it WW2?”
Andre: “Well yes but that’s after the Blitz so it would be a different type of bomb, wow I wonder what they’ll do with it?”

And so she scuttles off to tell her Mum who she has had scouring the news channels for information on the incident. Meanwhile the childer return empty handed:

Temp: “We didn’t find anything out, we couldn’t even get close to any policemen to ask”
Nancy: “Probably for the best”
Temp: “What?”
Nancy: “Oh nothing, anyway we’ve found out it’s a WW2 bomb”
Temp: “COOOOOL! OH MY GOD THAT’S AMAZING! YOU THINK IT’LL GO OFF?”
Nancy: “Well seeing as it hasn’t done for 65 years then probably not”

At this point Andre strides into the room:

Andre: “Well that’s confirmed it!”
Nancy: “Sorry?”
Andre: “It’s definitely post WW2, after the Blitz so it’ll be a V1 or V2 bomb (sic – I really can’t remember what she said exactly, it was something along those lines so put down your pens and paper poised for letters of complaint history buffs…)
Nancy: “Oh I see – is that er good?”
Andre: “Well it’ll mean it’s a very large bomb and they probably won’t detonate or it’ll take out most of the area – you should let your friend on Facebook know, see if it is a V1”
Nancy: “I’ll be sure to do that.”

I did as well and he came back and said no, it was much smaller and they had now gone and been and exploded it and everything. I haven’t the heart to tell Andre, I think it’s best to leave her thinking it was a V-whatever for a while. She got awfully excited.

So everything died down a bit after that, normality (or as close to that as we can get in this place) resumed and all was once again calm. Then Andre comes stomping over again with a piece of paper for me to look at. It’s all about bun throwing and the royal wedding. Of course. Actually it’s a pretty funny article, check it:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-oxfordshire-11789590

I particularly like the part where they say: The town council said it would attempt to work round the date so civic leaders could get on to the roof to throw buns. Andre of course thought it was hilarious as well but at the same time she could very well be one of those costumed weirdo’s chucking iced pastries off the roof of the County Hall. In fact she’d probably take along some of her own bakings to throw. If I were in the crowd catching them I’d probably steer clear of her cakes – if you missed then it could be a nasty case of concussion.

Happy weekends people.