The bowling night has finally been set for the 28th April so expect and interesting blog on the 29th. Well, I hope to be able to furnish you with stories of hilarity, shock and suspense anyway. Maybe I’m setting myself up for a fall here? I have it on authority that so far that Moon Monkey has given the date the go ahead, I assume meaning he can attend. Others who have said they’ll be coming are Kirstie (you’d hope so seeing as she’s organising it), Ginger, Gunner on the condition that Arsenal aren’t playing that night in some semi finals or something, CJ – who incidentally emailed from home as she is ‘off sick’ today, likelihood of her turning up tomorrow, slim – Harley can make it as well as can, Miss Jean Brody, Saffa (bring on the sambucas!) and unfortunately FB. She’s in the country and can make it – hurrah. Ooo, ooo, put me on her team please. Not.
Today Andre was not in the office by 10am so we were getting a bit concerned as to her whereabouts and I emailed Harley who is ‘working from home’ (honestly, no one actually comes in the office anymore) to see if he’d heard anything. He called me to say he’d had an email late yesterday and a call this morning from her and she’s off with a stomach bug. This will be a genuine sick day for Andre as she doesn’t do skiving so I do hope she’ll get better soon. We also need to know if she can come bowling! Harley also informed me that CJ was off sick as well – er yeah ok, we weren’t really concerned about her, just assumed she’d come in at her usual time of 11.30am moaning about the motorway. Later in the day Moon Monkey asked Kirstie where CJ was and then added “can you start keeping track of absences for me please?” Ha ha ha! This should be interesting! Luckily, with me and Kirstie being on good terms I can probably wangle a few days sick that won’t be accounted for but I know she’ll be jotting down every day CJ is not in the office with unconcealed joy!
That is all for today. Carry on.
Wednesday 31 March 2010
Tuesday 30 March 2010
The return of FB
I’m sure you’ve been on tenterhooks since the blog yesterday, what could this good news be?! What wisdom and knowledge does Moon Monkey have to enlighten our lives with? Is someone getting sacked? Are we all moving to Uganda? Tell us Monkey, tell us!
Well I’m sorry to disappoint but it wasn’t that exciting in the end. We sat in the meeting room waiting around for our glorious leader until he finally walked in at 4.15pm. Kirstie suggested a round of applause and I think everyone was so amused/annoyed by that point that they did in fact start clapping! Luckily he saw the funny side and we’re all still in our jobs today. Most people in the department were there apart from Saffa who was in a meeting, Ginger who had finished for the day and wisely decided not to stay on and a couple of others on annual leave.
Several items on the agenda including this ridiculously massively complicated database thing they are installing and no one agrees with. I won’t bore you with that and there was nothing new about it anyway. We were also introduced to a new member of staff who has in fact been working in the department for 2 weeks. Only that morning in Starbucks did Ginger ask me who he was and if anyone had been introduced to him yet, slightly ironic that she went home and so missed the introduction in the end! Typical of this place that we have to guess who we work with.
The main news was about the Uganda project and how this is going to generate 75 new jobs. Many in our department. So many that we may have to move offices again (we moved last Christmas). They’ll all be based in the UK though so no jollies to Uganda for us (if you could describe a trip to Uganda a ‘jolly’) but possibly some to Paris and Beijing. Moon Monkey went into no details but said that everyone is more than welcome to apply for whatever comes up. Now I know I should have probably been thinking “ooh, opportunities, maybe I’ll get to use my brain cells again” but in all honesty I switched off and started thinking about when I would get to go home – that is how interested I am in this job.
For me the final item was not what I would describe as ‘good news’. Apparently FB (the same one of shagging the ex-boss fame) is coming back to work in this office at the end of next month. Joy. She’ll be back here full time, or whatever she considers to be full time (so, 11am-3pm?) and sat behind me whining away in her shitty accent, stomping her foot to get what she wants and declaring out loud how she shouldn’t eat that 35th chocolate or she’ll get fat. A warped and twisted side of me is interested to see how she gets on with CJ and if Moon Monkey puts up with any of her shit. I doubt very much she can seduce Monkey Man as he’s really not got it in him for an affair and seems to have standards, but you never know. Might spice things up a bit around here but on the flip side she’ll have all that power over the management again and make our lives hell – or more hell.
She’s also going to be heading up a team; if I get picked for that I will seriously consider resigning. I can’t afford to resign though so maybe I’ll just give myself a lobotomy. Actually I think I am almost half way there with a lobotomy so maybe I’ll keep a copy of the Yellow Pages in my draw at work. Kirstie and I have had several lengthy conversations about how we could defend ourselves from her which then lead on to how we could inflict some physical damage on her without provocation. Kirstie suggested using a Yellow Pages across the chest/stomach as it causes internal damage and doesn’t leave any marks. Before you start thinking why I am associating myself with people who know things like this let me explain that Kirstie’s husband is a prison warden. She’s also an Australian so she may have tried this herself. Either way I’m open to suggestions.
Questions at the end of the meeting went on longer than necessary as usual, with Moody piping up on more than one occasion. CJ also threw one in, I think to try and look good but judging by the answer from MM she just showed herself up. She also made a point of saying “yeah” after every one of his sentences. We finally escaped just before 5pm which meant I had to do 5 minutes overtime – not happy. Moon Face wants to hold these every month but we shall see, I seem to remember him saying something very similar 6 months ago.
This morning it was also discovered that we never paid our bill at Starbucks! Kirstie had to leave before everyone to go to a meeting and none of the management thought it necessary to pay for coffee and panini’s so they left - retards. A worried Starbucker called the main reception this morning asking if we would mind wandering over and paying the £85 tab.
Well I’m sorry to disappoint but it wasn’t that exciting in the end. We sat in the meeting room waiting around for our glorious leader until he finally walked in at 4.15pm. Kirstie suggested a round of applause and I think everyone was so amused/annoyed by that point that they did in fact start clapping! Luckily he saw the funny side and we’re all still in our jobs today. Most people in the department were there apart from Saffa who was in a meeting, Ginger who had finished for the day and wisely decided not to stay on and a couple of others on annual leave.
Several items on the agenda including this ridiculously massively complicated database thing they are installing and no one agrees with. I won’t bore you with that and there was nothing new about it anyway. We were also introduced to a new member of staff who has in fact been working in the department for 2 weeks. Only that morning in Starbucks did Ginger ask me who he was and if anyone had been introduced to him yet, slightly ironic that she went home and so missed the introduction in the end! Typical of this place that we have to guess who we work with.
The main news was about the Uganda project and how this is going to generate 75 new jobs. Many in our department. So many that we may have to move offices again (we moved last Christmas). They’ll all be based in the UK though so no jollies to Uganda for us (if you could describe a trip to Uganda a ‘jolly’) but possibly some to Paris and Beijing. Moon Monkey went into no details but said that everyone is more than welcome to apply for whatever comes up. Now I know I should have probably been thinking “ooh, opportunities, maybe I’ll get to use my brain cells again” but in all honesty I switched off and started thinking about when I would get to go home – that is how interested I am in this job.
For me the final item was not what I would describe as ‘good news’. Apparently FB (the same one of shagging the ex-boss fame) is coming back to work in this office at the end of next month. Joy. She’ll be back here full time, or whatever she considers to be full time (so, 11am-3pm?) and sat behind me whining away in her shitty accent, stomping her foot to get what she wants and declaring out loud how she shouldn’t eat that 35th chocolate or she’ll get fat. A warped and twisted side of me is interested to see how she gets on with CJ and if Moon Monkey puts up with any of her shit. I doubt very much she can seduce Monkey Man as he’s really not got it in him for an affair and seems to have standards, but you never know. Might spice things up a bit around here but on the flip side she’ll have all that power over the management again and make our lives hell – or more hell.
She’s also going to be heading up a team; if I get picked for that I will seriously consider resigning. I can’t afford to resign though so maybe I’ll just give myself a lobotomy. Actually I think I am almost half way there with a lobotomy so maybe I’ll keep a copy of the Yellow Pages in my draw at work. Kirstie and I have had several lengthy conversations about how we could defend ourselves from her which then lead on to how we could inflict some physical damage on her without provocation. Kirstie suggested using a Yellow Pages across the chest/stomach as it causes internal damage and doesn’t leave any marks. Before you start thinking why I am associating myself with people who know things like this let me explain that Kirstie’s husband is a prison warden. She’s also an Australian so she may have tried this herself. Either way I’m open to suggestions.
Questions at the end of the meeting went on longer than necessary as usual, with Moody piping up on more than one occasion. CJ also threw one in, I think to try and look good but judging by the answer from MM she just showed herself up. She also made a point of saying “yeah” after every one of his sentences. We finally escaped just before 5pm which meant I had to do 5 minutes overtime – not happy. Moon Face wants to hold these every month but we shall see, I seem to remember him saying something very similar 6 months ago.
This morning it was also discovered that we never paid our bill at Starbucks! Kirstie had to leave before everyone to go to a meeting and none of the management thought it necessary to pay for coffee and panini’s so they left - retards. A worried Starbucker called the main reception this morning asking if we would mind wandering over and paying the £85 tab.
Monday 29 March 2010
Do you want the good news or the bad news?
Moon Monkey called one of his Starbucks meetings again today. An email went round at about 9.30am telling everyone to put in their order and rendezvous at 12pm. As the email pinged up in in-boxes around the office you could hear a collective groan go up. It’s not that no one appreciates a free panini and latte, of course we do, it’s just that there’s a time and a place and 12pm in Starbucks on a Monday is neither the time nor the place for a team meeting.
This soon became apparent as we were all tucking into our tuna melts and muffins (easy) that the din of the lunchtime crowd meant we couldn’t even hear the ‘Bucks employees shouting our orders out, let alone any words of wisdom old Moon Face wanted to impart. As ever the usual suspects grabbed a pew next to one another and started chatting whist the usual freaks tried to find a seat that wasn’t taken. The familiar chaos of ordering then followed as no one was listening to what was being brought over and then wondering where their non-decaf skinny soya milk mocha-frappuchino was as it sat on the table next to them waiting for an owner. Poor old Kirstie was put in charge and ended up trying to pair up croissants and people and then didn’t even get her cheese and ham panini at the end of it all. Moon Monkey eventually gave into the fact that he would get no where fast with the meeting and so suggested we all reconvene at 2pm for a meeting back in the office, probably like he should have done in the first place.
It could also have been his urgency to get away from CJ who was sat at a table with him, talking with her mouth full and spraying crumbs into his hot chocolate.
I could just make out over the noise that he had “good news” for the meeting. So a pay rise perhaps? Extra annual leave for all? Then he mentioned something cryptic about needing to hire the whole of Starbucks next time, alluding to the fact we’ll be taking on more staff and if anyone would be interested in working in Uganda? Hmmmm, possibly not the good news I was hoping for.
That meeting was then pushed back to 2.30pm and it’s now 2.40pm and no one knows what is going on, if it’s happening or where it’s meant to be. Usual unorganised bollocks I have come to know and love of this department then.
Let’s see what happens and I’ll report back later with any updates…..
3.30pm and still nothing. No one knows what the feck is going on and no sign of Moon Monkey.
3.44pm – the meeting is now scheduled for 4pm. We’ve been told it won’t be for long which is code for “expect to be here past 5pm” in which case I will be excusing myself at 4.55pm and leaving the office. Ginger is in a quandary because she normally goes home at 4pm, I’ve told her to get the heck out of here as I can pretty much guarantee this won’t be worth sticking around for.
4.10pm – I give up. If this meeting ever actually happens then I’ll fill you in on the ‘good news’ tomorrow. Let’s call it a cliff hanger.
This soon became apparent as we were all tucking into our tuna melts and muffins (easy) that the din of the lunchtime crowd meant we couldn’t even hear the ‘Bucks employees shouting our orders out, let alone any words of wisdom old Moon Face wanted to impart. As ever the usual suspects grabbed a pew next to one another and started chatting whist the usual freaks tried to find a seat that wasn’t taken. The familiar chaos of ordering then followed as no one was listening to what was being brought over and then wondering where their non-decaf skinny soya milk mocha-frappuchino was as it sat on the table next to them waiting for an owner. Poor old Kirstie was put in charge and ended up trying to pair up croissants and people and then didn’t even get her cheese and ham panini at the end of it all. Moon Monkey eventually gave into the fact that he would get no where fast with the meeting and so suggested we all reconvene at 2pm for a meeting back in the office, probably like he should have done in the first place.
It could also have been his urgency to get away from CJ who was sat at a table with him, talking with her mouth full and spraying crumbs into his hot chocolate.
I could just make out over the noise that he had “good news” for the meeting. So a pay rise perhaps? Extra annual leave for all? Then he mentioned something cryptic about needing to hire the whole of Starbucks next time, alluding to the fact we’ll be taking on more staff and if anyone would be interested in working in Uganda? Hmmmm, possibly not the good news I was hoping for.
That meeting was then pushed back to 2.30pm and it’s now 2.40pm and no one knows what is going on, if it’s happening or where it’s meant to be. Usual unorganised bollocks I have come to know and love of this department then.
Let’s see what happens and I’ll report back later with any updates…..
3.30pm and still nothing. No one knows what the feck is going on and no sign of Moon Monkey.
3.44pm – the meeting is now scheduled for 4pm. We’ve been told it won’t be for long which is code for “expect to be here past 5pm” in which case I will be excusing myself at 4.55pm and leaving the office. Ginger is in a quandary because she normally goes home at 4pm, I’ve told her to get the heck out of here as I can pretty much guarantee this won’t be worth sticking around for.
4.10pm – I give up. If this meeting ever actually happens then I’ll fill you in on the ‘good news’ tomorrow. Let’s call it a cliff hanger.
Friday 26 March 2010
I am truly in my prime
There is one person I have yet to mention and that’s because she’s not in my radar at work often now. The lady in question used to sit behind me next to Andre but has since been moved to another team who sit the opposite end of the office. Still part of our department just on a particular project, it’s all very dull I assure you.
We (not the royal ‘we’, that would be me and Gunner and Kirstie) call her Miss Jean Brody, not to her face of course but it’s a good thing she has a nick name as I can never for the life of me remember her real one. She sat behind me for several months and I still can’t recall it, it’s not an especially unusual name but clearly very forgettable. Anyway, Miss JB is a far better title. Gunner came up with it one day when we were sending some ranty emails to each other about her, he just imagines her to be some Scottish private school mistress with her head up her own arse, which she basically is minus the uniform.
Miss JB is 40 but dresses like a 50 year old, she wears the oddest combinations of outfits and has a mahoosive cleavage which she tends to show off quite a lot. I often catch her in the loo’s doing her make up in a really weird fashion and she gets terribly self conscious if you walk out of a cubicle to discover her there slapping on the rouge. Miss JB came to us some time last year (I forget when, the days and weeks start to blur after a while) as a temp and had worked for this illustrious company before a couple of years back. Normally she works in TV as a producer or director or something and this was a stop gap whilst the TV job market was pretty pants. She was asked to help out FB (lucky her!) with some work which FB relished, bossing he about all the time and basically giving her all her own work to do as well.
So Miss JB sat behind me and next to Andre and you’d think they’d be the most mis-matched pair in this office. However, turns out that Miss JB is a bit of a TV/movie geek as well and a desperate loner so they’re getting on like a house on fire! Initially this was bewildering and quite sweet but it soon turned to annoying and loud which then in turn created murderous thoughts amongst those sat around them, me included. ‘But why?’ I hear you ask. Several factors came into this which I shall list for you now.
The Quoting
As they share a love of all things sci-fi and fantasy based the terrible two have of course seen all the same films and TV series, read all the same books and got all the same t-shirts. So quite often when chatting about something mundane one of them would pipe up with “just like that scene from series 2, episode 4 of Blake 7…..” and then it would go on. Neither of them have the quietest of voices so everyone else in the office would also be subject to this. OK, have your banter but please keep the nerd-factor to a minimum.
The Laugh
Miss JB has a VERY annoying laugh. I can’t even begin to explain how it sounds aside from fucking irritating. I suppose it is kind of horse-like in places but also very nasal and breathy and LOUD! So, so LOUD! She’s also a nervous laugher, as is Andre so the laugh would be popping up during the quoting but also in just day to day stuff until it seems as though she is laughing non-stop. Again with the murderous thoughts and by now we are plotting her demise.
The Big Head Up Her Arse
I mentioned that Miss JB works in TV, we all know this because she is very keen to tell everyone what she has done and the ‘famous’ people she has met. As far as I can gauge she has mainly worked on home improvement reality shows with D list celebrities but she’ll often drop them into conversation. “Oh well when I was working on “Chav Mum Housing DIY” with you know……” and in comes the name. Some people were impressed with this the first time around but by the 268th time not so much as they probably don’t know who the hell she is talking about and have never watched the cocking programme in the first place. Gunner informs me that she was just like this the last time round when she worked here and nothing has improved. The murderous plot is in place and I’m on ebay looking for suitable weapons.
The Stig
She loves The Stig from Top Gear, obsessed with him in fact. She has pictures on her desk of him. When there was the rumour that he might in fact be Mr Schumacher the debate raged on for days as to whether it was some clever TV ploy or not. OF COURSE IT IS YOU FREAK, WHY WOULD A F1 RACING DRIVER TEST DRIVE CARS FOR THE BBC?! You’d think she’d be a bit more keyed up on this seeing as she works in television.
And so this all went on and as a combination started to piss off quite a few people. Andre and Miss JB in the mean time went off to Blur concerts (apparently Andre jumped around a lot, I do hope she didn’t attempt to crowd surf…), had dinner together and swapped Stargate DVDs. Then finally she was moved! A great day for us all but not so for Andre. There were sad farewells and for the first few weeks both of them would appear at each other’s desks throughout the day but then it dwindled and the dinners stopped and it hasn’t quite been the same since. Bless.
But please don’t feel too sorry for Miss JB, her move was the result of her own actions and that laugh. She has since been able to get her own back in a twisted and subconscious manner but screwing up my filing system. I have a section for her team and as much as I tidy and sort every time I go back in there it’s like some rabid monkey has been in there throwing files about. I’m surprised there aren’t faeces everywhere.
I’ll have to also furnish you with the tale of her love life as that is quite entertaining. But I’ll save that for another day.
Have a grand weekend peeps.
We (not the royal ‘we’, that would be me and Gunner and Kirstie) call her Miss Jean Brody, not to her face of course but it’s a good thing she has a nick name as I can never for the life of me remember her real one. She sat behind me for several months and I still can’t recall it, it’s not an especially unusual name but clearly very forgettable. Anyway, Miss JB is a far better title. Gunner came up with it one day when we were sending some ranty emails to each other about her, he just imagines her to be some Scottish private school mistress with her head up her own arse, which she basically is minus the uniform.
Miss JB is 40 but dresses like a 50 year old, she wears the oddest combinations of outfits and has a mahoosive cleavage which she tends to show off quite a lot. I often catch her in the loo’s doing her make up in a really weird fashion and she gets terribly self conscious if you walk out of a cubicle to discover her there slapping on the rouge. Miss JB came to us some time last year (I forget when, the days and weeks start to blur after a while) as a temp and had worked for this illustrious company before a couple of years back. Normally she works in TV as a producer or director or something and this was a stop gap whilst the TV job market was pretty pants. She was asked to help out FB (lucky her!) with some work which FB relished, bossing he about all the time and basically giving her all her own work to do as well.
So Miss JB sat behind me and next to Andre and you’d think they’d be the most mis-matched pair in this office. However, turns out that Miss JB is a bit of a TV/movie geek as well and a desperate loner so they’re getting on like a house on fire! Initially this was bewildering and quite sweet but it soon turned to annoying and loud which then in turn created murderous thoughts amongst those sat around them, me included. ‘But why?’ I hear you ask. Several factors came into this which I shall list for you now.
The Quoting
As they share a love of all things sci-fi and fantasy based the terrible two have of course seen all the same films and TV series, read all the same books and got all the same t-shirts. So quite often when chatting about something mundane one of them would pipe up with “just like that scene from series 2, episode 4 of Blake 7…..” and then it would go on. Neither of them have the quietest of voices so everyone else in the office would also be subject to this. OK, have your banter but please keep the nerd-factor to a minimum.
The Laugh
Miss JB has a VERY annoying laugh. I can’t even begin to explain how it sounds aside from fucking irritating. I suppose it is kind of horse-like in places but also very nasal and breathy and LOUD! So, so LOUD! She’s also a nervous laugher, as is Andre so the laugh would be popping up during the quoting but also in just day to day stuff until it seems as though she is laughing non-stop. Again with the murderous thoughts and by now we are plotting her demise.
The Big Head Up Her Arse
I mentioned that Miss JB works in TV, we all know this because she is very keen to tell everyone what she has done and the ‘famous’ people she has met. As far as I can gauge she has mainly worked on home improvement reality shows with D list celebrities but she’ll often drop them into conversation. “Oh well when I was working on “Chav Mum Housing DIY” with you know……” and in comes the name. Some people were impressed with this the first time around but by the 268th time not so much as they probably don’t know who the hell she is talking about and have never watched the cocking programme in the first place. Gunner informs me that she was just like this the last time round when she worked here and nothing has improved. The murderous plot is in place and I’m on ebay looking for suitable weapons.
The Stig
She loves The Stig from Top Gear, obsessed with him in fact. She has pictures on her desk of him. When there was the rumour that he might in fact be Mr Schumacher the debate raged on for days as to whether it was some clever TV ploy or not. OF COURSE IT IS YOU FREAK, WHY WOULD A F1 RACING DRIVER TEST DRIVE CARS FOR THE BBC?! You’d think she’d be a bit more keyed up on this seeing as she works in television.
And so this all went on and as a combination started to piss off quite a few people. Andre and Miss JB in the mean time went off to Blur concerts (apparently Andre jumped around a lot, I do hope she didn’t attempt to crowd surf…), had dinner together and swapped Stargate DVDs. Then finally she was moved! A great day for us all but not so for Andre. There were sad farewells and for the first few weeks both of them would appear at each other’s desks throughout the day but then it dwindled and the dinners stopped and it hasn’t quite been the same since. Bless.
But please don’t feel too sorry for Miss JB, her move was the result of her own actions and that laugh. She has since been able to get her own back in a twisted and subconscious manner but screwing up my filing system. I have a section for her team and as much as I tidy and sort every time I go back in there it’s like some rabid monkey has been in there throwing files about. I’m surprised there aren’t faeces everywhere.
I’ll have to also furnish you with the tale of her love life as that is quite entertaining. But I’ll save that for another day.
Have a grand weekend peeps.
Thursday 25 March 2010
Ring Day!
Today is Ring Day! Hurrah! All hail the destruction of the ring! The One True Ring!
What do you mean you don’t know what I’m taking about? You know – the Ring! And today we celebrate its destruction!! Yippee!
OK, OK, for those of you still sat there in the dark I shall explain further.
Today, March 25th 2010 is the anniversary of the destruction of The Ring - that is the fictional ring as read about in the books by Tolkien and thrown into the deep lava pits of Mount Doom by one Frodo Baggins and his mate Sam. Today, we should celebrate, apparently because Tolkien believed Middle-earth to be our ancient past. Without the destruction of the Ring, we might very well all be in darkness.
Thank goodness for little hobbits and their quests.
It’s OK I haven’t gone completely geek-nuts there is a reason for me to tell you this and that would be……cake! Every year (as sadly enough I have been here for over a year now and so experiencing Ring Day for the 2nd time around) Andre brings out the cakes on Ring Day. She spends hours the night before baking them and making up little marzipan rings to go on top and then prepares them on plates with napkins and wheels them around the office on a trolley handing them out. There are several things that I love about Ring Day:
1) Cake. Anything involving cake is always a winner with me and Andre knows how to make a good cake.
2) The trolley. It’s like something out of a Victoria Wood sketch and the wheels even squeak as she pushes it so you can hear her coming.
3) The get up. I was wondering why Andre was dressed as an Elf this morning. She’s in her medieval archery style top (that she designed herself) with a big old cape avec pointy hood and a clasp (I may have mentioned before) bearing a leaf. I do wish I could get a snap shot but I would clearly be taking the piss and the woman has fed me cake today.
4) The explanations. As Andre hands out cakes people are of course asking what the occasion is and she joyfully replies “It’s Ring Day!” like they should of course know what the flipperty gibbet she is going on about. After recognising the look of complete bafflement she goes on to explain further “It’s the day the one true ring was destroyed at Mount Doom”……still baffled, what ring? “You know THE ring, the one ring to rule them all!” And so this goes on.
The cakes themselves are very good. Last year we had massive cakes with marzipan rings on them, this year she did slightly smaller cakes but you had a choice of chocolate or marzipan. I went for chocolate. Yes, as one of my friends pointed out to me I went for one of Andre’s chocolate rings…… Anyway! Apparently the year before last she actually spent hour inscripting all the marzipan rings with the wording on the one in the book/film but decided that was going a bit too far (y’ think?) and held back a bit. Still tasty as fuck though. She is going to a meal this weekend and taking some with her and on each of those she put 7 tiny stars with tweezers. The woman is a perfectionist when it comes to Tolkien what can I say?
In my research for this particular subject and out of pure fascination I have come across a couple of interesting websites to say the least. One has given me my Elvin name of Iltitithnel Kevalynntinu, although when I put it through again it came out with Falyaima Maltanthor and Ithminawen Galonlinde so I’m not convinced of its accuracy. Personally I like the sound of Falyaima. Another gave me a song about Ring Day which can also be downloaded as a ring tone (I’m tempted…), you want to hear it? You know you do!
Into the fires of Orodruin
The One must be cast;
This the price, that must be paid,
Only thus its power will be undone,
Only thus, a great evil, unmade.
There is no other choice
There is no other way.
One of you must take it,
One of you must pay.
The rest is in Elfish so I shant bore you with that. Finally, and this is one of my faves, I have found the Tolkien Wiki page. A whole Wikipedia of everything devoted to Tolkien. There is of course a fairly large entry for The Ring (snigger) which has been broken down into History, a list of Ring Bearers, Powers, Continuity Errors and Trivia amongst other sub titles. If you don’t believe me then see http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/One_Ring it’s a scintillating read.
I’m sure Andre is very aware of this website and a keen follower, heck she probably set it up.
So remember to celebrate, even if it's only a few moments reflection on why The Lord of the Rings has impacted you, but remember Frodo and the Quest of the Fellowship and remember when Middle-earth was freed.
Or just have a cake.
What do you mean you don’t know what I’m taking about? You know – the Ring! And today we celebrate its destruction!! Yippee!
OK, OK, for those of you still sat there in the dark I shall explain further.
Today, March 25th 2010 is the anniversary of the destruction of The Ring - that is the fictional ring as read about in the books by Tolkien and thrown into the deep lava pits of Mount Doom by one Frodo Baggins and his mate Sam. Today, we should celebrate, apparently because Tolkien believed Middle-earth to be our ancient past. Without the destruction of the Ring, we might very well all be in darkness.
Thank goodness for little hobbits and their quests.
It’s OK I haven’t gone completely geek-nuts there is a reason for me to tell you this and that would be……cake! Every year (as sadly enough I have been here for over a year now and so experiencing Ring Day for the 2nd time around) Andre brings out the cakes on Ring Day. She spends hours the night before baking them and making up little marzipan rings to go on top and then prepares them on plates with napkins and wheels them around the office on a trolley handing them out. There are several things that I love about Ring Day:
1) Cake. Anything involving cake is always a winner with me and Andre knows how to make a good cake.
2) The trolley. It’s like something out of a Victoria Wood sketch and the wheels even squeak as she pushes it so you can hear her coming.
3) The get up. I was wondering why Andre was dressed as an Elf this morning. She’s in her medieval archery style top (that she designed herself) with a big old cape avec pointy hood and a clasp (I may have mentioned before) bearing a leaf. I do wish I could get a snap shot but I would clearly be taking the piss and the woman has fed me cake today.
4) The explanations. As Andre hands out cakes people are of course asking what the occasion is and she joyfully replies “It’s Ring Day!” like they should of course know what the flipperty gibbet she is going on about. After recognising the look of complete bafflement she goes on to explain further “It’s the day the one true ring was destroyed at Mount Doom”……still baffled, what ring? “You know THE ring, the one ring to rule them all!” And so this goes on.
The cakes themselves are very good. Last year we had massive cakes with marzipan rings on them, this year she did slightly smaller cakes but you had a choice of chocolate or marzipan. I went for chocolate. Yes, as one of my friends pointed out to me I went for one of Andre’s chocolate rings…… Anyway! Apparently the year before last she actually spent hour inscripting all the marzipan rings with the wording on the one in the book/film but decided that was going a bit too far (y’ think?) and held back a bit. Still tasty as fuck though. She is going to a meal this weekend and taking some with her and on each of those she put 7 tiny stars with tweezers. The woman is a perfectionist when it comes to Tolkien what can I say?
In my research for this particular subject and out of pure fascination I have come across a couple of interesting websites to say the least. One has given me my Elvin name of Iltitithnel Kevalynntinu, although when I put it through again it came out with Falyaima Maltanthor and Ithminawen Galonlinde so I’m not convinced of its accuracy. Personally I like the sound of Falyaima. Another gave me a song about Ring Day which can also be downloaded as a ring tone (I’m tempted…), you want to hear it? You know you do!
Into the fires of Orodruin
The One must be cast;
This the price, that must be paid,
Only thus its power will be undone,
Only thus, a great evil, unmade.
There is no other choice
There is no other way.
One of you must take it,
One of you must pay.
The rest is in Elfish so I shant bore you with that. Finally, and this is one of my faves, I have found the Tolkien Wiki page. A whole Wikipedia of everything devoted to Tolkien. There is of course a fairly large entry for The Ring (snigger) which has been broken down into History, a list of Ring Bearers, Powers, Continuity Errors and Trivia amongst other sub titles. If you don’t believe me then see http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/One_Ring it’s a scintillating read.
I’m sure Andre is very aware of this website and a keen follower, heck she probably set it up.
So remember to celebrate, even if it's only a few moments reflection on why The Lord of the Rings has impacted you, but remember Frodo and the Quest of the Fellowship and remember when Middle-earth was freed.
Or just have a cake.
Wednesday 24 March 2010
“Do you have bowling shoes in a size 15 with Elvin markings?”
Apparently HR has told Kirstie that our department are allocated £600 a head to allow for a 2 day ‘team building’ event of whatever description. Now I know that HR are probably thinking along the lines of some tedious conference or one of those bonding weekends in Devon where you have to do trust exercises (no way in hell I’m catching Andre!), put together displays about the key skills of working in a team and do some * shudder * role play….. However, I think that Kirstie is now hell bent on seeing if we can manage to spend this £600 a head on bowling games and food and drink.
I for one am all up for this splendid plan, although I’d hope she wouldn’t be expecting us to play 40 games of bowling and would steer more towards the food and drink for the majority of the cost. You know what it’s like when a big group of people bowl, after the 2nd game everyone gets a bit bored and uninterested and starts chucking bowling balls down the lane willy nilly just to finish it off. I did point this out after Kirstie was planning on booking 4 games! Unfortunately I was with her and Gunner at the time and it appears that they love bowling so it might stretch to 3. I for one will be asking the bowling staff to keep a tally of my own personal spending to see how close I can get to the £600 mark and then asking for anything I don’t spend in cash. £600 is more than I earn in a week – maybe I should ask if I can skip the bowling and just take the money?
It would mean that I get to avoid having to socialise with the people I work with. I’ve done the social thing in previous jobs but for some reason, and you’ll be shocked to hear this, I haven’t really done so in this one. I’m not sure why, I just don’t seem to get on with some of them and have nothing in common with the remainder…… I am partly dreading this bowling night, having to spend several hours beyond my working day with these freaks playing a sport that involves some interaction and social skills isn’t the first entry of my calendar for April. On the flip side though I am incredibly curious to see how it all pans out and what these people are like at bowling. Prior to this we’ve only spent any ‘social’ time round a dinner table or in a bar so an activity that means they have to potentially make themselves look like a prick or admit they can’t bowl for shit will be interesting.
If I were to predict what some of my colleagues will be like that evening then I’d say CJ would be incredibly competitive and stay sober the entire evening just so she’s ‘on her game’. Plus of course she’ll have to make the terribly long journey home afterwards so I expect she’ll be driving and therefore staying on the OJ’s. Whether she can actually bowl would be by the by, it would be her determination to show everyone up and boast as to how she was in the company bowling league at her last job who (of course) were so much better than us. Moody would have a few wines and loosen up a bit but would keep on missing his turn because he’d be chatting to another one of the crusties about ‘the good old days’ and how the bowling lanes in New Zealand are so much better. Harley would be a good but absent minded bowler and I think he’d kick his leg out every time he bowled thinking he’s a character out of King Pin, he’d also be ready to hand out advice to everyone on their technique.
Andre can’t bowl. I’m not commenting on her bowling skills either, I’m stating fact. She has said she can’t bowl because of a shoulder injury so she will be sat watching and probably cheering everyone on. She’ll be sat in the chair in front of the computer that controls all the scores and shouting out people’s names when it’s their turn. She doesn’t drink but then do you need to if you’re Andre? We might have a problem getting some shoes in her size though. I think she’ll probably have a good night and enjoy herself immensely.
I’d take a guess that Gunner is a pretty good bowler and he’s already said he’ll be practicing on his Wii before hand. Although the gradual build up of ciders will eventually make his game falter and scores drop. He’ll carry on regardless though and be the person taking other people’s goes when they lose interest. I bet he has a celebratory dance for when he gets a strike too. Kirstie will be busy organising everyone and making sure everyone has a lane and a ball and the right shoes and a drink in their hand and is having fun. She’ll try and enjoy the night but the PA in her will take over and she’ll take charge and then whinge about it afterwards. A shit bowler who eventually has to use the little frame disabled kids use to help them bowl. Ginger might not even make it; she’s not very good at socialising with people outside her family. If she does come then she’ll have left by 8pm or the earliest opportunity to get home to her kids – all very sweet but personally if that were me I’d use any opportunity to have a night away from them.
Saffa may or may not come, again with the crap at work social thing. If she does it’s hit or miss as to whether she’ll drive as she also lives in the arse end of no where like CJ (but somehow manages to make it in on time most days without the slightest whinge) and therefore if she will drink. If she doesn’t then she’ll be pretty quiet to start and maybe warm into conversation later on, she’ll enjoy the bowling and spend the night making un-funny jokes (she’s not got the knack for comedy). If she does drink then she will loosen up very quickly, bowl with some hysterical kind of style (but still be good), be loud, make crap jokes – but loudly – and then at the end of the evening when we’re all in the bar she’ll start crying about something. At which point Kirstie and I will jump in and find out as much as we can about this mysterious blonde, flower giving lover of hers….
Moon Monkey will start off all very formal and professional, too scared that any of his plebs might think him capable of having fun. He’ll be in a suit of course and then after a few drinks the tie will come off and he’ll unbutton his shirt at the top. Then the “YESSSSS!” shouts will start up when he knocks all them pins down and his moon face will get all red and sweaty. He’ll probably win a few games and have taken bowling lessons professionally before hand so he doesn’t look like a chimp in front of us all. Eventually he’ll get pretty wasted and say some embarrassing things and offer people pay rises and we will have to put him in a cab back home and it will be brilliant.
I’m sure that I’m way off kilter and it’ll in fact be a boring night where no one gets that drunk, people moan about the bowling, I get stuck talking to old men about ‘the good old days’ and Moon Monkey puts a stop to the bar tab at 9pm.
Nah! I’m still holding out for drunken Grease re-enactments, the best celebratory dances you’ve ever seen and tears before bed time. Oh and of course the obligatory missing manager the following morning. Bring on the bowling!!
I for one am all up for this splendid plan, although I’d hope she wouldn’t be expecting us to play 40 games of bowling and would steer more towards the food and drink for the majority of the cost. You know what it’s like when a big group of people bowl, after the 2nd game everyone gets a bit bored and uninterested and starts chucking bowling balls down the lane willy nilly just to finish it off. I did point this out after Kirstie was planning on booking 4 games! Unfortunately I was with her and Gunner at the time and it appears that they love bowling so it might stretch to 3. I for one will be asking the bowling staff to keep a tally of my own personal spending to see how close I can get to the £600 mark and then asking for anything I don’t spend in cash. £600 is more than I earn in a week – maybe I should ask if I can skip the bowling and just take the money?
It would mean that I get to avoid having to socialise with the people I work with. I’ve done the social thing in previous jobs but for some reason, and you’ll be shocked to hear this, I haven’t really done so in this one. I’m not sure why, I just don’t seem to get on with some of them and have nothing in common with the remainder…… I am partly dreading this bowling night, having to spend several hours beyond my working day with these freaks playing a sport that involves some interaction and social skills isn’t the first entry of my calendar for April. On the flip side though I am incredibly curious to see how it all pans out and what these people are like at bowling. Prior to this we’ve only spent any ‘social’ time round a dinner table or in a bar so an activity that means they have to potentially make themselves look like a prick or admit they can’t bowl for shit will be interesting.
If I were to predict what some of my colleagues will be like that evening then I’d say CJ would be incredibly competitive and stay sober the entire evening just so she’s ‘on her game’. Plus of course she’ll have to make the terribly long journey home afterwards so I expect she’ll be driving and therefore staying on the OJ’s. Whether she can actually bowl would be by the by, it would be her determination to show everyone up and boast as to how she was in the company bowling league at her last job who (of course) were so much better than us. Moody would have a few wines and loosen up a bit but would keep on missing his turn because he’d be chatting to another one of the crusties about ‘the good old days’ and how the bowling lanes in New Zealand are so much better. Harley would be a good but absent minded bowler and I think he’d kick his leg out every time he bowled thinking he’s a character out of King Pin, he’d also be ready to hand out advice to everyone on their technique.
Andre can’t bowl. I’m not commenting on her bowling skills either, I’m stating fact. She has said she can’t bowl because of a shoulder injury so she will be sat watching and probably cheering everyone on. She’ll be sat in the chair in front of the computer that controls all the scores and shouting out people’s names when it’s their turn. She doesn’t drink but then do you need to if you’re Andre? We might have a problem getting some shoes in her size though. I think she’ll probably have a good night and enjoy herself immensely.
I’d take a guess that Gunner is a pretty good bowler and he’s already said he’ll be practicing on his Wii before hand. Although the gradual build up of ciders will eventually make his game falter and scores drop. He’ll carry on regardless though and be the person taking other people’s goes when they lose interest. I bet he has a celebratory dance for when he gets a strike too. Kirstie will be busy organising everyone and making sure everyone has a lane and a ball and the right shoes and a drink in their hand and is having fun. She’ll try and enjoy the night but the PA in her will take over and she’ll take charge and then whinge about it afterwards. A shit bowler who eventually has to use the little frame disabled kids use to help them bowl. Ginger might not even make it; she’s not very good at socialising with people outside her family. If she does come then she’ll have left by 8pm or the earliest opportunity to get home to her kids – all very sweet but personally if that were me I’d use any opportunity to have a night away from them.
Saffa may or may not come, again with the crap at work social thing. If she does it’s hit or miss as to whether she’ll drive as she also lives in the arse end of no where like CJ (but somehow manages to make it in on time most days without the slightest whinge) and therefore if she will drink. If she doesn’t then she’ll be pretty quiet to start and maybe warm into conversation later on, she’ll enjoy the bowling and spend the night making un-funny jokes (she’s not got the knack for comedy). If she does drink then she will loosen up very quickly, bowl with some hysterical kind of style (but still be good), be loud, make crap jokes – but loudly – and then at the end of the evening when we’re all in the bar she’ll start crying about something. At which point Kirstie and I will jump in and find out as much as we can about this mysterious blonde, flower giving lover of hers….
Moon Monkey will start off all very formal and professional, too scared that any of his plebs might think him capable of having fun. He’ll be in a suit of course and then after a few drinks the tie will come off and he’ll unbutton his shirt at the top. Then the “YESSSSS!” shouts will start up when he knocks all them pins down and his moon face will get all red and sweaty. He’ll probably win a few games and have taken bowling lessons professionally before hand so he doesn’t look like a chimp in front of us all. Eventually he’ll get pretty wasted and say some embarrassing things and offer people pay rises and we will have to put him in a cab back home and it will be brilliant.
I’m sure that I’m way off kilter and it’ll in fact be a boring night where no one gets that drunk, people moan about the bowling, I get stuck talking to old men about ‘the good old days’ and Moon Monkey puts a stop to the bar tab at 9pm.
Nah! I’m still holding out for drunken Grease re-enactments, the best celebratory dances you’ve ever seen and tears before bed time. Oh and of course the obligatory missing manager the following morning. Bring on the bowling!!
Monday 22 March 2010
I’m Fiona Bruce…
Happy Monday people. Hip hip hoorah an’ all that.
I’m actually not in the best of states today, for reasons beyond my control (well probably within but vodka and the thought of 2 buses home clouds that sometimes) I am unwashed, in yesterday’s clothes (which as you can imagine are not standard wear for a Monday in the corporate world) have had about an hours sleep, slept in a bed that smelt of B.O. and smoke in said clothes and therefore now smell and look like a tramp and have the attention span of a goldfish. This all said I did manage to drag my weary arse into work on time so that’s something I guess. No one has mentioned my attire, or the fact I smell like – god what do I smell of? It’s not good whatever it is. Definite hobo aroma. I am being allowed to spend the working hours sat here staring into space and writing the odd email without interruption. Thankfully I have tomorrow off work so maybe by Wednesday I’ll have got my shiz together again.
This kind of behaviour is harking back to last summer when I went through a spate of being ridiculously late in for work and constantly hung over. I was temping at the time so time keeping was more of my control (you don’t work the hours you don’t get paid) and most people seemed to find the hangovers amusing more than anything. It did get to the point where if I was late in for a reason other than previous night’s drinking or just a bit quiet that day I’d get accused of being on the lash again. Seemed to build myself a bit of a reputation and probably well deserved.
This could be why no one has quizzed me over the jeans and jumper and why I look like shit on a stick. They’re all so used to it they are more likely to ask me if I’m ok when I come in looking healthy! Hmmmmmm, reassessment of lifestyle imminent….
The headlines from the crazy house today aren’t that much more interesting than last weeks I’m afraid. Our top stories so far:
DONG
Hay fever outbreak amongst ‘normals’!
Both Ginger and Gunner are suffering badly today from the rising pollen count, symptoms include sniffing, sneezing, coughing and watery eyes. Gunner is sounding particularly bad and has affected the ‘man flu’ stance to combat the situation. Tissues and anti-histamine stat.
DONG
CJ in work by 10.09am!
Some excuse bandied about which involved her car for a change. Most office members ignore and raise an eyebrow. Moody starts to quiz her on her whereabouts and wind up ensues. Nancy keeps her head down to avoid any eye contact or chance of conversation – more on this later.
DONG
Kirstie close to lamping Moon Monkey!
After the huge task of booking Moon Monkey, his wife and baby monkey on a flight for Sunday night (sounds straight forward but he made sure this wasn’t so) Kirstie returns to work this morning to discover he had neglected to tell her his wife has a different last name to him. Kirstie holds tongue and fists and offers up the advice that maybe he could have mentioned this previously. So far violence has not broken out but you can feel the tension in the air and the monkey is restless.
DONG
Employee falls asleep at desk!
Staff at a high profile, corporate company are wondering what that smell is and why a devoted colleague has collapsed at their desk today. Initial reports suggest the smell could have been the cause of the fainting episode. The police, ambulance and Rentokil have been called in.
More on these stories and other fascinating tales when you join me again on Wednesday.
I’m actually not in the best of states today, for reasons beyond my control (well probably within but vodka and the thought of 2 buses home clouds that sometimes) I am unwashed, in yesterday’s clothes (which as you can imagine are not standard wear for a Monday in the corporate world) have had about an hours sleep, slept in a bed that smelt of B.O. and smoke in said clothes and therefore now smell and look like a tramp and have the attention span of a goldfish. This all said I did manage to drag my weary arse into work on time so that’s something I guess. No one has mentioned my attire, or the fact I smell like – god what do I smell of? It’s not good whatever it is. Definite hobo aroma. I am being allowed to spend the working hours sat here staring into space and writing the odd email without interruption. Thankfully I have tomorrow off work so maybe by Wednesday I’ll have got my shiz together again.
This kind of behaviour is harking back to last summer when I went through a spate of being ridiculously late in for work and constantly hung over. I was temping at the time so time keeping was more of my control (you don’t work the hours you don’t get paid) and most people seemed to find the hangovers amusing more than anything. It did get to the point where if I was late in for a reason other than previous night’s drinking or just a bit quiet that day I’d get accused of being on the lash again. Seemed to build myself a bit of a reputation and probably well deserved.
This could be why no one has quizzed me over the jeans and jumper and why I look like shit on a stick. They’re all so used to it they are more likely to ask me if I’m ok when I come in looking healthy! Hmmmmmm, reassessment of lifestyle imminent….
The headlines from the crazy house today aren’t that much more interesting than last weeks I’m afraid. Our top stories so far:
DONG
Hay fever outbreak amongst ‘normals’!
Both Ginger and Gunner are suffering badly today from the rising pollen count, symptoms include sniffing, sneezing, coughing and watery eyes. Gunner is sounding particularly bad and has affected the ‘man flu’ stance to combat the situation. Tissues and anti-histamine stat.
DONG
CJ in work by 10.09am!
Some excuse bandied about which involved her car for a change. Most office members ignore and raise an eyebrow. Moody starts to quiz her on her whereabouts and wind up ensues. Nancy keeps her head down to avoid any eye contact or chance of conversation – more on this later.
DONG
Kirstie close to lamping Moon Monkey!
After the huge task of booking Moon Monkey, his wife and baby monkey on a flight for Sunday night (sounds straight forward but he made sure this wasn’t so) Kirstie returns to work this morning to discover he had neglected to tell her his wife has a different last name to him. Kirstie holds tongue and fists and offers up the advice that maybe he could have mentioned this previously. So far violence has not broken out but you can feel the tension in the air and the monkey is restless.
DONG
Employee falls asleep at desk!
Staff at a high profile, corporate company are wondering what that smell is and why a devoted colleague has collapsed at their desk today. Initial reports suggest the smell could have been the cause of the fainting episode. The police, ambulance and Rentokil have been called in.
More on these stories and other fascinating tales when you join me again on Wednesday.
Thursday 18 March 2010
Wish you weren’t here?
I’m back, from outer space…..well Northern Europe really.
I had a lovely few days away from this mad house, thank you for asking dear reader. At not one point did the thought of Andre, CJ or Moody enter my mind, nor did I wonder how those jobs I handed over to Ginger on Friday were progressing, nor if they had discovered the banana I accidentally left in my locked cupboard. Actually, maybe I wondered a little about the banana. And I tell a lie, I thought about Andre on one occasion when we walked past a boat called ‘Gandalf’, of which I took a picture (as you can see).
I returned this morning early (not sure what happened there) and full of the joys of spring! I was missed! How did they ever cope without me before?! Never go on holiday again Nancy!! I should be so lucky. I wandered in, shouted a couple of ‘Hello’s’ around the office to which I mainly received some muffled ‘Hi….morning’s’ in reply and Moody didn’t even look up from his desk. Of course some of the normals wandered over and enquired about my break but other than that it’s like I haven’t been away. Ginger filled me in on the complete lack of anything happening in my absence which was disappointing, especially when I think of you guys sitting there in anticipation of some juicy returning blog. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but today I have very little for you. Just the way the orc-flavoured cookie crumbles sometimes.
The team-bonding bowling day which was meant to be next Wednesday has now been postponed until after Easter. I only found this out by mentioning it to Kirstie who then realised I wouldn’t have known about it not being here an’ all. Thanks. CJ has been keeping her usual hours and lost a £1 bet with Moody this morning as she claimed she would be in by 9am. She made it in for 9.15am. She is of course taking flex tomorrow due to all of those hours she’s clocked up the past 2 weeks. I have spent most of the day being her feckin’ receptionist as every time she walks away from her desk her phone rings. Most people on the end of the line sound quite harassed and as though this is the 44th time they have called to try and catch her. Tomorrow I plan to let it ring.
Saffa seems to have developed some illness or injury and has been off a lot with doctor’s appointments including this morning but no update on the love triangle situation. Moon Monkey is off again and actually on holiday next week so we hope not to see him for a while. Andre is back to being her usual quiet self so no ramblings from her today – shame it could have made the time go quicker.
All of the work I handed over on Friday didn’t get done so I had it all handed back to me this morning plus another 60 jobs from Moody. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me though, probably because of all the work he can dump back on me again. I won’t mention I’ve booked off next Tuesday as well….
Tomorrow will be another quiet Friday and we’re planning a pub lunch so maybe you’ll get some slightly inebriated blogging tomorrow afternoon to lead you into the weekend. If all else fails I can take you through my holiday snap shots….
Friday 12 March 2010
Andre
Friday, quiet day, not a heck of a lot going on day. However, as I was mulling over what I could write to you nice people about I realised that Andre has been unusually chatty since she got in and I have learnt some new and wonderful facts about her I felt should be shared with the cyber world (well all 3 of you who are tuning in anyway). She started talking literally the moment she stepped into the office and hasn’t shut up since. I’m not complaining, it’s all rather entertaining and breaks up the tedium of the day as I wait for 4.30pm to crawl round.
First things first Andre marches up to Ginger as she walks in, cape billowing behind her (fastened might I add with a very fetching gold LoTR style broach in the shape of a leaf) which she does very well to her credit. She starts blabbering on about this company talk we were invited to go to on Wednesday in the bar (you’ll be shocked to hear I didn’t attend and wasn’t too interested in the 2009 year results, plus the fact it went on until 30 minutes after I’d left the office) and what the CEO was saying. Apparently he advised everyone to “go out and buy some outlandish clothing or sleep on the other side of the bed” to inspire creativity in the work place – it was all very amusing so she says. So she has listened closely to our great leader and indeed gone out to get herself some outlandish clothing. This is in the shape of some garish silk item that will be made into an outfit for a dinner party this weekend. Nice on Andre, McQueen would be proud.
From Donna’s reaction the other side of my partition I can tell she’s gone to town with the outlandish side of things. Then she wanders round to her desk, which incidentally is now directly behind mine as she moved to be ‘warmer’, and says she has found the best thing to relieve stress. Er, ok. I am genuinely concerned as to what she will pull out of her Wimbledon 2003 holdall right now. But don’t worry, it’s one of those stress toys in the shape of The Stig from Top Gear – phew!! Actually it’s quite cool and she lets me have a squeeze before he takes pride of place next to the Sydney Swans garden gnome on her desk.
Ginger lingers over to see what we’re laughing at as Andre pushes the Stig into fairly risqué positions and starts asking about this CEO presentation again. She says she might try sleeping on the other side of the bed and Andre pipes up with how she has to sleep with room for her left arm to be up and free of the covers as it’s her “fighting arm”. ‘Scuse me? “I fight best with my left arm”. Really? And who are you imagining you will be in full combat with in the middle of the night, living with your mother in a semi in Acton? Ginger always likes to fuel these conversations though and so somehow we lead on to “and I can sleep with an open pen knife in my hand without cutting the sheets to ribbons”. OK Ginger, deal with this one then. “Do you not end up cutting yourself in your sleep?” – “No I sleep with my hand under my pillow and the knife in my hand”. Now I’m too curious – “Er so do you often feel the need to sleep armed?” – “well if you’re staying in student accommodation or hostels it can be quite dangerous.” Yeah, I’d imagine so if you’re wielding knives around in your sleep!!
It’s 9.25am and so far I have learnt that Andre has a nice new garish outfit for the weekend, loves all things Top Gear, fights best with her left arm and can and will sleep with an open pen knife under her pillow.
Lunch time comes round and I bump into her in the canteen as I’m trying to decide what to get. On returning to my desk I enquire about her choice of food and it’s “just a jacket potato and butter I’m afraid, very boring”. I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before but Andre can’t eat anything. Her diet mainly consists of very dull foods like potato and also for some reason a lot of crisps (I guess that’s potato too), KitKats and bottles of coke. Turns out she is allergic to practically everything; it’s some kind of E number agent thing that appears in all food on the planet except potatoes. Or something like that anyway. She’s also allergic to something that is in most clothing and so has to have a lot of her own hand made ‘specially (ahhhh that explains the tailor, although I think I would go for a nice jumper over a 12th century style dressing gown). She points out her jeans and says “I had to have these made!” which I find odd as I assumed the reason all her trousers were about 3 inches too short on the leg was because she couldn’t find ones that fitted her enormous height. Seriously her trousers end before her white socks begin, it’s like they’ve had an argument with her shoes.
For those of you with food allergies I do sympathise, I’m lucky enough to be able to shove anything down my gullet without hyperventilating or vomiting. You may like to know that this weekend there is an Allergies road show at Olympia and if you head down you may even catch a glimpse of Andre joining the Anaphylactic Society.
We’ve also just had a conversation about an article in the Daily Mail saying there was a massive Viking burial site found this week in the UK. She’s agreeing with most of the article but isn’t sure about where their evidence lies in stating that there was an ‘audience’ to this battle. She’s concerned about it, I told her not to be as it wouldn’t be the first time the Daily Mail has lied to its readers. None the less she’s got a colour photocopy to take home with her. Could be a good talking point at the dinner party this weekend when she’s wearing her new silk frock, avoiding eating anything but potatoes and heading home at the end of the night to tuck herself in with a Swiss army knife.
Night, night Andre.
First things first Andre marches up to Ginger as she walks in, cape billowing behind her (fastened might I add with a very fetching gold LoTR style broach in the shape of a leaf) which she does very well to her credit. She starts blabbering on about this company talk we were invited to go to on Wednesday in the bar (you’ll be shocked to hear I didn’t attend and wasn’t too interested in the 2009 year results, plus the fact it went on until 30 minutes after I’d left the office) and what the CEO was saying. Apparently he advised everyone to “go out and buy some outlandish clothing or sleep on the other side of the bed” to inspire creativity in the work place – it was all very amusing so she says. So she has listened closely to our great leader and indeed gone out to get herself some outlandish clothing. This is in the shape of some garish silk item that will be made into an outfit for a dinner party this weekend. Nice on Andre, McQueen would be proud.
From Donna’s reaction the other side of my partition I can tell she’s gone to town with the outlandish side of things. Then she wanders round to her desk, which incidentally is now directly behind mine as she moved to be ‘warmer’, and says she has found the best thing to relieve stress. Er, ok. I am genuinely concerned as to what she will pull out of her Wimbledon 2003 holdall right now. But don’t worry, it’s one of those stress toys in the shape of The Stig from Top Gear – phew!! Actually it’s quite cool and she lets me have a squeeze before he takes pride of place next to the Sydney Swans garden gnome on her desk.
Ginger lingers over to see what we’re laughing at as Andre pushes the Stig into fairly risqué positions and starts asking about this CEO presentation again. She says she might try sleeping on the other side of the bed and Andre pipes up with how she has to sleep with room for her left arm to be up and free of the covers as it’s her “fighting arm”. ‘Scuse me? “I fight best with my left arm”. Really? And who are you imagining you will be in full combat with in the middle of the night, living with your mother in a semi in Acton? Ginger always likes to fuel these conversations though and so somehow we lead on to “and I can sleep with an open pen knife in my hand without cutting the sheets to ribbons”. OK Ginger, deal with this one then. “Do you not end up cutting yourself in your sleep?” – “No I sleep with my hand under my pillow and the knife in my hand”. Now I’m too curious – “Er so do you often feel the need to sleep armed?” – “well if you’re staying in student accommodation or hostels it can be quite dangerous.” Yeah, I’d imagine so if you’re wielding knives around in your sleep!!
It’s 9.25am and so far I have learnt that Andre has a nice new garish outfit for the weekend, loves all things Top Gear, fights best with her left arm and can and will sleep with an open pen knife under her pillow.
Lunch time comes round and I bump into her in the canteen as I’m trying to decide what to get. On returning to my desk I enquire about her choice of food and it’s “just a jacket potato and butter I’m afraid, very boring”. I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before but Andre can’t eat anything. Her diet mainly consists of very dull foods like potato and also for some reason a lot of crisps (I guess that’s potato too), KitKats and bottles of coke. Turns out she is allergic to practically everything; it’s some kind of E number agent thing that appears in all food on the planet except potatoes. Or something like that anyway. She’s also allergic to something that is in most clothing and so has to have a lot of her own hand made ‘specially (ahhhh that explains the tailor, although I think I would go for a nice jumper over a 12th century style dressing gown). She points out her jeans and says “I had to have these made!” which I find odd as I assumed the reason all her trousers were about 3 inches too short on the leg was because she couldn’t find ones that fitted her enormous height. Seriously her trousers end before her white socks begin, it’s like they’ve had an argument with her shoes.
For those of you with food allergies I do sympathise, I’m lucky enough to be able to shove anything down my gullet without hyperventilating or vomiting. You may like to know that this weekend there is an Allergies road show at Olympia and if you head down you may even catch a glimpse of Andre joining the Anaphylactic Society.
We’ve also just had a conversation about an article in the Daily Mail saying there was a massive Viking burial site found this week in the UK. She’s agreeing with most of the article but isn’t sure about where their evidence lies in stating that there was an ‘audience’ to this battle. She’s concerned about it, I told her not to be as it wouldn’t be the first time the Daily Mail has lied to its readers. None the less she’s got a colour photocopy to take home with her. Could be a good talking point at the dinner party this weekend when she’s wearing her new silk frock, avoiding eating anything but potatoes and heading home at the end of the night to tuck herself in with a Swiss army knife.
Night, night Andre.
Thursday 11 March 2010
Tight lipped
Not much to update on the Saffa situation today I’m afraid. She came into work very late at about 11.30am so Kirstie and I were wondering if something was up. Just as Kirstie was going to ask Harley where she was she turned up. Kirstie told her her ears must have been burning as we’d just been talking about her and why she wasn’t in. Saffa said “yeah, well I’m here now” and no further explanation so we’re none the wiser. We’ve decided it was probably because she was knackered after boffing Blondie in a hotel room somewhere all night and she had a lie-in. Or possibly a doctors appointment? I’ll let you come to your own conclusions.
I could walk up to Saffa and demand to know what’s going on but I don’t think that would work and is probably not the most professional approach to take in the office. I’d employ the uses of Kirstie but she’s off now until Monday and then I’m off work next Mon-Wed so it looks like it’ll have to wait. Yes I’m afraid there will be no blog next week until the Thursday, I hope you can survive and I’m sure you will. I’m off on my holidays and plan to be nowhere near a computer as from 4.30pm tomorrow until my return to my desk on the 18th. But lets not think of that now, I haven’t even left yet.
Maybe it’ll all kick off while I’m Amsterdam and I’ll come back to some uber gossip fest where Blondie stormed into the office in the middle of the day and started screaming at Saffa who broke down in tears and then Blondie apologised and they made up with a full on snog and eventually had to be pulled apart by Moon Monkey at which point they grabbed their coats and ran off and Saffa came back 4 days later walking like a cowboy and all flushed in the face.
Actually if I missed all that I would be gutted!! So let’s hope they save it for when I’m back.
In other news it looks as though the team bonding event will be in the form of bowling. Andre will unfortunately not be able to compete due to her old fractured shoulder injury which I am disappointed about as I bet she’s a mean bowler and would bring her own medieval bowling outfit. Personally I think bowling has the potential to be a good laugh and even more hilarious with this bunch of misfits. Plus they serve drinks to your lanes don’t they? What more do we need? I’m going to start practicing my victory dance for when I get a strike.
I could walk up to Saffa and demand to know what’s going on but I don’t think that would work and is probably not the most professional approach to take in the office. I’d employ the uses of Kirstie but she’s off now until Monday and then I’m off work next Mon-Wed so it looks like it’ll have to wait. Yes I’m afraid there will be no blog next week until the Thursday, I hope you can survive and I’m sure you will. I’m off on my holidays and plan to be nowhere near a computer as from 4.30pm tomorrow until my return to my desk on the 18th. But lets not think of that now, I haven’t even left yet.
Maybe it’ll all kick off while I’m Amsterdam and I’ll come back to some uber gossip fest where Blondie stormed into the office in the middle of the day and started screaming at Saffa who broke down in tears and then Blondie apologised and they made up with a full on snog and eventually had to be pulled apart by Moon Monkey at which point they grabbed their coats and ran off and Saffa came back 4 days later walking like a cowboy and all flushed in the face.
Actually if I missed all that I would be gutted!! So let’s hope they save it for when I’m back.
In other news it looks as though the team bonding event will be in the form of bowling. Andre will unfortunately not be able to compete due to her old fractured shoulder injury which I am disappointed about as I bet she’s a mean bowler and would bring her own medieval bowling outfit. Personally I think bowling has the potential to be a good laugh and even more hilarious with this bunch of misfits. Plus they serve drinks to your lanes don’t they? What more do we need? I’m going to start practicing my victory dance for when I get a strike.
Wednesday 10 March 2010
One way or another…
Came in this morning to an email from Kirstie, it seems the Saffa tears episode from yesterday has developed….
From: Kirstie
Sent: 10 March 2010 09:00
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: Developments
You missed the demi drama last night.
A girl called Blondie turned up to see Saffa, just wandered down to her desk and asked where Saffa was. I didn’t see her come in but she had obviously been here before. Andre asked who she was looking for and at that stage my ears pricked up and I said she had already left, then Blondie wandered back towards reception tsking and shaking her head. I went and asked reception who it was (because obviously visitors should be escorted and not wandering around by themselves). New receptionist chick said that Blondie had been calling/texting/emailing Saffa all day and that she was worried because she was not answering any of her calls/texts/emails.
I mentioned to Saffa this morning that she had a visitors and she just said that she had managed to get hold of her.
So I think that we were right and the tears were because of girl problems.
So the plot thickens.
Towing and frowing of emails between us deciphered that Blondie was blonde (yeah, me being imaginative with the nick names again), short hair, tall and slim but all wrapped up in a coat so it was hard to make any more distinguishing features out. Possibly a bit older than Saffa as well. Her name rang some bells and I started to think that maybe it was the same girl as the love triangle last year…..then it hit me.
Took some time for my brain to get round it but I realised I had seen Blondie in the office before. A couple of months ago Saffa left for the day and said her goodbyes but then came back again about 5 minutes later with someone in tow. She was tall, slim, short blonde hair and a bit older than her. Saffa was showing her where she worked, her desk, pointing out people in the office (including me, I heard my name mentioned…) but didn’t introduce her to anyone. Then they wandered off again. Now I just assumed in all my innocence that this was the wife, I mean you don’t show your mates up to your office do you? They don’t give a toss where you work and it’s not like there is anything remotely interesting in here (well I guess that depends on how you look at it) to show them “this is my desk and computer – woooow!” so only a loved one would pretend to take an interest.
I put this to Kirstie and it matched her description of Blondie so we’re pretty sure it’s the same woman. Plus it would explain how she knew her way around and where Saffa’s desk was.
Saffa’s keeping tight lipped on this one at the moment and seems in better spirits today so Kirstie and I now plan to get her wasted at the department ‘team bonding’ event and grill her on the subject. If only for the sake of my loyal blog followers!
From: Kirstie
Sent: 10 March 2010 09:00
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: Developments
You missed the demi drama last night.
A girl called Blondie turned up to see Saffa, just wandered down to her desk and asked where Saffa was. I didn’t see her come in but she had obviously been here before. Andre asked who she was looking for and at that stage my ears pricked up and I said she had already left, then Blondie wandered back towards reception tsking and shaking her head. I went and asked reception who it was (because obviously visitors should be escorted and not wandering around by themselves). New receptionist chick said that Blondie had been calling/texting/emailing Saffa all day and that she was worried because she was not answering any of her calls/texts/emails.
I mentioned to Saffa this morning that she had a visitors and she just said that she had managed to get hold of her.
So I think that we were right and the tears were because of girl problems.
So the plot thickens.
Towing and frowing of emails between us deciphered that Blondie was blonde (yeah, me being imaginative with the nick names again), short hair, tall and slim but all wrapped up in a coat so it was hard to make any more distinguishing features out. Possibly a bit older than Saffa as well. Her name rang some bells and I started to think that maybe it was the same girl as the love triangle last year…..then it hit me.
Took some time for my brain to get round it but I realised I had seen Blondie in the office before. A couple of months ago Saffa left for the day and said her goodbyes but then came back again about 5 minutes later with someone in tow. She was tall, slim, short blonde hair and a bit older than her. Saffa was showing her where she worked, her desk, pointing out people in the office (including me, I heard my name mentioned…) but didn’t introduce her to anyone. Then they wandered off again. Now I just assumed in all my innocence that this was the wife, I mean you don’t show your mates up to your office do you? They don’t give a toss where you work and it’s not like there is anything remotely interesting in here (well I guess that depends on how you look at it) to show them “this is my desk and computer – woooow!” so only a loved one would pretend to take an interest.
I put this to Kirstie and it matched her description of Blondie so we’re pretty sure it’s the same woman. Plus it would explain how she knew her way around and where Saffa’s desk was.
Saffa’s keeping tight lipped on this one at the moment and seems in better spirits today so Kirstie and I now plan to get her wasted at the department ‘team bonding’ event and grill her on the subject. If only for the sake of my loyal blog followers!
Tuesday 9 March 2010
Under pressure
Off again yesterday (not sick this time just a day off – thank you for your concern) and today is pretty manic at work so I’m afraid it’s another short one. I feel like I’m cheating you out of a decent days’ blog at the moment, the pressure’s getting to me you know, stop being so demanding! I can’t take it!! Aggghhhhhhh!
Ahem. Sorry.
Today we’ve had Saffa in tears. This morning I was con flabbing with Kirstie by the photocopier and she comes rushing past all teary and red eyed and looking quite upset. Kirstie asked if she was ok and she said “yeah fine”, still dashing about trying to organise a meeting that was about to start. She did grab Kirstie by the hand in a kind of “help me” manner but I guess you don’t want to be talking about something upsetting when you’re about to go in and sit down in an all day meeting with a bunch of suited wankers. Seems to have calmed down now and Kirstie has promised me she will do her utmost to snoop in and find out what’s going on. In a completely caring sense of course because we don’t like to see anyone upset around here (well…) and because we are nosey bitches. We’re considering the possibility her better half has found out about the flowers from the anonymous admirer but it could be anything.
CJ is working from home today. Er, not sure why. I have given up on asking where she is and it starts to look like I actually give a fuck so Kirstie enquired this time. Moody said with the usual eyes raised to the ceiling, shoulder shrug and tone of despair “she’s working from home but I’m not sure why”. That’s all we know. Bit lacking on the solid facts this week aren’t we? Ginger also overheard her saying to him yesterday that she’s taking this Friday off. Well she would want to over do it would she? I mean a 3 day working week is quite enough.
The department night out is now turning into a ‘team bonding’ exercise. Yes I can hear you all shuddering from where you sit and read this. Luckily we have some control over what we do but Moon Monkey has so far suggested go karting and paintballing. To her benefit Andre was the first to point out that her arse doesn’t fit in a go-kart but she is also out of bowling because of a fractured shoulder (1st I’ve heard of this). I thought it brave of MM to suggest the paint balling as I think he might be the number one target in the game (although I’d personally set my sights on a certain bad table mannered, muttering, work skiving idiot who sits in my close proximity). Other options are a pub quiz, karaoke (which I think would be hi-la-ri-ous) and some kind of cookery lesson. I’ll let you know what the final decision is but whatever it turns out to be you know the next day is going to make for an interesting blog.
Ahem. Sorry.
Today we’ve had Saffa in tears. This morning I was con flabbing with Kirstie by the photocopier and she comes rushing past all teary and red eyed and looking quite upset. Kirstie asked if she was ok and she said “yeah fine”, still dashing about trying to organise a meeting that was about to start. She did grab Kirstie by the hand in a kind of “help me” manner but I guess you don’t want to be talking about something upsetting when you’re about to go in and sit down in an all day meeting with a bunch of suited wankers. Seems to have calmed down now and Kirstie has promised me she will do her utmost to snoop in and find out what’s going on. In a completely caring sense of course because we don’t like to see anyone upset around here (well…) and because we are nosey bitches. We’re considering the possibility her better half has found out about the flowers from the anonymous admirer but it could be anything.
CJ is working from home today. Er, not sure why. I have given up on asking where she is and it starts to look like I actually give a fuck so Kirstie enquired this time. Moody said with the usual eyes raised to the ceiling, shoulder shrug and tone of despair “she’s working from home but I’m not sure why”. That’s all we know. Bit lacking on the solid facts this week aren’t we? Ginger also overheard her saying to him yesterday that she’s taking this Friday off. Well she would want to over do it would she? I mean a 3 day working week is quite enough.
The department night out is now turning into a ‘team bonding’ exercise. Yes I can hear you all shuddering from where you sit and read this. Luckily we have some control over what we do but Moon Monkey has so far suggested go karting and paintballing. To her benefit Andre was the first to point out that her arse doesn’t fit in a go-kart but she is also out of bowling because of a fractured shoulder (1st I’ve heard of this). I thought it brave of MM to suggest the paint balling as I think he might be the number one target in the game (although I’d personally set my sights on a certain bad table mannered, muttering, work skiving idiot who sits in my close proximity). Other options are a pub quiz, karaoke (which I think would be hi-la-ri-ous) and some kind of cookery lesson. I’ll let you know what the final decision is but whatever it turns out to be you know the next day is going to make for an interesting blog.
Friday 5 March 2010
Friday quickie
Short and sweet today. It’s been a quiet one, no Harley or Moon Monkey (why couldn’t they have not been in last week when I was trying to escape early?!), just me, Ginger, Gunner, Kirstie and Moody. Distinct lack of freaks. Shock horror CJ didn’t come in. She’s taken a flexi Friday. Yeah I know, it must be all those hours she’s clocked up working to earn it. Gunner’s decided to take one next Friday seeing as she seems to be able to do what the fuck she likes and I’m coming in late on Monday – if they kick up a fuss then I have my spreadsheet as defence.
Highlights of my day have been:
The sun shining
Finding a massive chocolate chip cookie on my desk with no apparent owner
Friday pub lunch accompanied by large burger
No management in the office
No CJ in the office
I seem to be the only fecker left here now so I’m not hanging about to earn any brownie points, the weekend is calling…..
Highlights of my day have been:
The sun shining
Finding a massive chocolate chip cookie on my desk with no apparent owner
Friday pub lunch accompanied by large burger
No management in the office
No CJ in the office
I seem to be the only fecker left here now so I’m not hanging about to earn any brownie points, the weekend is calling…..
Thursday 4 March 2010
Fisty cuffs and missing managers
Moon Monkey has been talking about organising some kind of departmental outing. Details yet to be finalised, it was something thrown into a conversation he was having with Kirstie and asking her to organise it. She said he just had to say the word so he said “word” (such a card that monkey) and she said “alright then” but it’s as far as it got. It could be drinks, it could be lunch, it could be dinner, it could be a take away KFC in the office, we’re all just simply on tenterhooks waiting to find out! Kirstie can’t really do anything further until Moon Monkey actually divulges what he means by ‘outing’ (you never know he could be planning to drag all the gays in the office out of the closet) as he is the one who holdeth ye worshipful company credit card and shall payeth for all to get drunk and be merry.
As a department we do enjoy a good old shin dig and being here a wee while now I have witnessed one or two. As you can probably tell by the Friday lunch times we like a drink and we like not to be in the office working so the two naturally go hand in hand for an office party. It’s quite a mixed bunch of people here (I’m sure you have gathered that by now) although predominantly male and predominantly old and middle class, so the drinking often turns into a competition or something to prove how much of an ‘old lad’ you are. In this industry even if you’re the biggest twat going, if you can drink someone under the table then you’re a good egg in their books. So when we do saunter out on a social the food tends to be a by product of the evening and you can guarantee the main part of the bill will be for beverages. Yes, we are a bunch of piss heads.
This tends to lead to some fairly interesting and eventful evenings that often lead their way back to the office (or not and get lost along the road) the next morning as we stumble in and gossip starts to spread. For example, the year before last our Christmas bash actually ended up as that and fists were flung on several occasions. One woman smacked the glasses off one of the IT geeks in a drunken brawl about her mother and the same IT geek steadily got more and more wasted and ended up in a stand up row with a Scotsman when he started joking around (as you do) about being a terrorist. You’ll be surprised to hear that we were asked to leave that pub in the end and at that point the party was well and truly over.
Well what do you expect when you start giving alcohol to pent up, frustrated and over worked employees at midday? I think we got kicked out at about 8pm and I’m amazed they put up with it for that long.
For the last department shin dig we had people visiting from other offices at the time so they tagged along. 34 of us in all, taking up the majority of this small restaurant on the high street (I did feel sorry for the couple who had attempted to sit down for a romantic lunch), 3 courses each and mucho drink being served. We started at 1pm and had finished the meal and moved to the bar by 5pm. As is always the way I got stuck talking to some of the crusties about the illustrious industry, how it was in the old days and how their breed was dying out – all the time having red wine fumes breathed on me and searching for the nearest exit. Ginger and Kirstie stood across the room laughing and pointing and not willing to rescue me in case they got pulled in as well (bastards) and then they left. So far it had been a pretty uneventful evening and I was now bored so I decided to head home too.
The next morning it transpires that a bunch of them went on to another pub and continued until the wee small hours. Gunner remembers seeing the IT Geek dancing on the bar, one of the crusties I had been talking to slumped on the floor after he fell off a bar stool and another attempting to chat up a lady. He can’t be sure though, it’s all a bit hazy. As the day at work wears on and people filter in it becomes clear that we’ve lost a manager. He’s in from another office and meant to be on some training course, no one can get hold of him and his mobile is switched off. By the afternoon people are getting worried, although I’m not sure why, he’s old and ugly enough to look after himself. Someone checks with his hotel who say his bed hasn’t been slept in and he didn’t have any breakfast. Oooooh, now it’s getting interesting! Someone says they saw him leaving the hotel bar at 2am but that’s the last sighting.
Now we’re ringing round hospitals and the police, still slightly over zealous I think but hey, anything for a drama! Still nothing and a couple of the old dudes have been to check his hotel room. Doesn’t look like the bed’s been slept in and his coat and things were still there…..
By 5pm he’s still not found and I’m off home, I hope he’s okay but I’m not hanging about.
Now I know you’re all hoping for some huge scandal of epic proportions! He was out all night doing crystal meth with a bunch of transsexual hookers or got on a plane to Bangladesh or was abducted by aliens or passed out cold in the park and mistaken for a homeless man?! Sorry to disappoint but he turned up shortly after I’d left work. Claiming he did sleep in the hotel, woke up late, left his phone charger in the office and wasn’t planning to come into work so went for a walk. Hmmmmm. We’re not so sure. The next day when he did come in he couldn’t look anyone in the eye and any time it was mentioned changed the subject - embarrassed or something to hide? You decide. It’s all a bit shifty for my liking though and we’ve had far more fun making up our own possible scenarios anyway. Definitely something to hide there but I’m not sure we’ll ever know what it was.
As a department we do enjoy a good old shin dig and being here a wee while now I have witnessed one or two. As you can probably tell by the Friday lunch times we like a drink and we like not to be in the office working so the two naturally go hand in hand for an office party. It’s quite a mixed bunch of people here (I’m sure you have gathered that by now) although predominantly male and predominantly old and middle class, so the drinking often turns into a competition or something to prove how much of an ‘old lad’ you are. In this industry even if you’re the biggest twat going, if you can drink someone under the table then you’re a good egg in their books. So when we do saunter out on a social the food tends to be a by product of the evening and you can guarantee the main part of the bill will be for beverages. Yes, we are a bunch of piss heads.
This tends to lead to some fairly interesting and eventful evenings that often lead their way back to the office (or not and get lost along the road) the next morning as we stumble in and gossip starts to spread. For example, the year before last our Christmas bash actually ended up as that and fists were flung on several occasions. One woman smacked the glasses off one of the IT geeks in a drunken brawl about her mother and the same IT geek steadily got more and more wasted and ended up in a stand up row with a Scotsman when he started joking around (as you do) about being a terrorist. You’ll be surprised to hear that we were asked to leave that pub in the end and at that point the party was well and truly over.
Well what do you expect when you start giving alcohol to pent up, frustrated and over worked employees at midday? I think we got kicked out at about 8pm and I’m amazed they put up with it for that long.
For the last department shin dig we had people visiting from other offices at the time so they tagged along. 34 of us in all, taking up the majority of this small restaurant on the high street (I did feel sorry for the couple who had attempted to sit down for a romantic lunch), 3 courses each and mucho drink being served. We started at 1pm and had finished the meal and moved to the bar by 5pm. As is always the way I got stuck talking to some of the crusties about the illustrious industry, how it was in the old days and how their breed was dying out – all the time having red wine fumes breathed on me and searching for the nearest exit. Ginger and Kirstie stood across the room laughing and pointing and not willing to rescue me in case they got pulled in as well (bastards) and then they left. So far it had been a pretty uneventful evening and I was now bored so I decided to head home too.
The next morning it transpires that a bunch of them went on to another pub and continued until the wee small hours. Gunner remembers seeing the IT Geek dancing on the bar, one of the crusties I had been talking to slumped on the floor after he fell off a bar stool and another attempting to chat up a lady. He can’t be sure though, it’s all a bit hazy. As the day at work wears on and people filter in it becomes clear that we’ve lost a manager. He’s in from another office and meant to be on some training course, no one can get hold of him and his mobile is switched off. By the afternoon people are getting worried, although I’m not sure why, he’s old and ugly enough to look after himself. Someone checks with his hotel who say his bed hasn’t been slept in and he didn’t have any breakfast. Oooooh, now it’s getting interesting! Someone says they saw him leaving the hotel bar at 2am but that’s the last sighting.
Now we’re ringing round hospitals and the police, still slightly over zealous I think but hey, anything for a drama! Still nothing and a couple of the old dudes have been to check his hotel room. Doesn’t look like the bed’s been slept in and his coat and things were still there…..
By 5pm he’s still not found and I’m off home, I hope he’s okay but I’m not hanging about.
Now I know you’re all hoping for some huge scandal of epic proportions! He was out all night doing crystal meth with a bunch of transsexual hookers or got on a plane to Bangladesh or was abducted by aliens or passed out cold in the park and mistaken for a homeless man?! Sorry to disappoint but he turned up shortly after I’d left work. Claiming he did sleep in the hotel, woke up late, left his phone charger in the office and wasn’t planning to come into work so went for a walk. Hmmmmm. We’re not so sure. The next day when he did come in he couldn’t look anyone in the eye and any time it was mentioned changed the subject - embarrassed or something to hide? You decide. It’s all a bit shifty for my liking though and we’ve had far more fun making up our own possible scenarios anyway. Definitely something to hide there but I’m not sure we’ll ever know what it was.
Wednesday 3 March 2010
My car ate my homework
Christ on a bike I should have just run out of here when I had the chance this morning and all the management team were in a meeting. There are millions of them about today, we’ve got the full regalia of managers and supervisors in my department, plus visiting managers from other offices and even the CEO popped in earlier! They might as well be patrolling with machine guns at this rate. I ran out of work to do at approximately 10am today. I have been vigorously thumb twiddling since then and stupidly thinking I could find something else to do. That was both a pointless and fruitless task and now here I sit at 1.38pm still with nothing to do. Even lunch time has been and gone and still no work has materialised. I have checked the book of face, my emails, my bank account, some friends blogs…I am running out of things to do that aren’t work based as well.
I have other places I could be you know, other far more interesting and exciting places where there are better distractions and times to be had. Places where I could be spending my time more productively rather than sitting staring at my computer screen and flicking between my outlook and databases to see if anything might have changed in the last 20 seconds. So why didn’t I cut and run this morning? Why did I just think “sod it, life’s too short and I’m too bored” create some wild excuse and take a sharp exit stage right? Because for some crazy and unfathomable reason I appear to have a conscience when it comes to work. Why, why, why? Where did I pick this deadly disease up from? I know I ran out early on Friday but that’s a Friday afternoon and I’d practically worked a whole day anyway (there’s my justification for it) and it would have been different to run out at 10am. But this morning when the thought crossed my mind that I could go for the day this pesky little elf sat on my shoulder telling me that maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, maybe Moody would need me for some urgent work today, maybe I shouldn’t ‘rob’ my employer of my time.
SHUT UP ELF!
Someone who doesn’t appear to have this problem/elf when it comes to work commitment is CJ. She was late in again this morning for a change and Kirstie and I are now starting to tott up the excuses she has for when she is tardy. This morning she rushed in at 11.15am whimpering something about a car crash on the motorway. I ignored her – as I normally try to – but Andre wheeled herself over immediately keen for the gossip and drama. What had happened was that in slow traffic (you know, the start, stop kind) on the motorway on her way in CJ had gone into the back of someone when she wasn’t concentrating or possibly eating a banana or doing her accounts for Q1 at the wheel. The other car was fine but hers was a bit, well, fucked and she still decided to drive all the way to work anyway. It’s currently parked up in the car park behind my office and she keeps pointing it out as evidence even though you can’t see the damage from here.
I should feel sympathy for CJ, she’s all shaken up and has practically written off her car (apparently) but it’s a little bit too familiar to me. I mean her car has been an excuse for her lateness on a number of occasions – the headlights have gone, she’s pranged it in the ice, she needed to get the MOT, a new tyre etc etc. Kirstie is sure the ‘accident’ excuse has been used before and it may well have been done. Now she is in she spends the first hour explaining the accident and that she has to wait for the recovery people to tow it to anyone who will listen, I even catch her in the kitchen telling the reception ladies while I’m getting my sandwich. Then she calls up some guy in the legal department who drives in from the same neck of the woods as her (and somehow manages to get in for 8am every day – amazing, how does he do it? What’s that? He gets an early night and then gets up early to miss the rush hour?! Genius!) and asks for a lift home. Turns out he is leaving at 4pm so she’ll be heading off then too. Well she will have been in the office for at least 5 hours at that point, she’ll be tired bless her. Ever heard of something called public transport CJ?
Finally after lunch she turns to me and says “Oh I won’t be in tomorrow”. Right. Why’s that then? “Well I had this accident this morning…” I cut her off quickly telling her I am aware of this as she has relayed the story to everyone who has come to her desk or called her today. So her insurance company are providing a replacement vehicle, as they do and they’ll only deliver it to her home not her work address so she now has to wait in for it “and who knows when it will show up!” Handy for you CJ, another day off of work? Well it is unlike you not to be in the office.
I’m amazed she can get away with shit like this all the time. I wouldn’t be so flabbergasted if she didn’t do it all the time and this was a rare occurrence. If she’s not sick, it’s snowing, and she can’t work from home because she’s poured water all over her laptop or she can’t get out of bed because she’s tired or she’s had a dingle in her car, I’m interested to hear the next round of excuses. Perhaps she could have a ‘family emergency’ or lock herself out of her house or have a gas leak or be held hostage by gunmen or have a hospital appointment or prang her car (oh no, sorry she already did that didn’t she?) or get abducted by aliens or lose her sight or get lost on the way to work or stuck on a plane in Barcelona or get struck by lightening or loose a finger in a freak fun fair accident or was picked for the winter Olympics and is running late or lost her car keys and couldn’t possibly find her way to the train station or slept through her alarm or is starring in a West End comedy and has a matinee on a Thursday to attend or broke her mobile or her dog is sick or it’s Q1 and has a lot of paper work to do?
Kirstie and I are going to start up a spreadsheet of excuses and tick them off as she comes up with them. We might create some nice pie charts and diagrams from this information and maybe even categorise the excuses in to areas such as ‘car’, ‘house’, ‘act of god’. I will of course publish the results and they shall appear on the blog before then being submitted to the LSE. Actually that could be a good way to kill the 3 hours remaining of my work day….
I have other places I could be you know, other far more interesting and exciting places where there are better distractions and times to be had. Places where I could be spending my time more productively rather than sitting staring at my computer screen and flicking between my outlook and databases to see if anything might have changed in the last 20 seconds. So why didn’t I cut and run this morning? Why did I just think “sod it, life’s too short and I’m too bored” create some wild excuse and take a sharp exit stage right? Because for some crazy and unfathomable reason I appear to have a conscience when it comes to work. Why, why, why? Where did I pick this deadly disease up from? I know I ran out early on Friday but that’s a Friday afternoon and I’d practically worked a whole day anyway (there’s my justification for it) and it would have been different to run out at 10am. But this morning when the thought crossed my mind that I could go for the day this pesky little elf sat on my shoulder telling me that maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, maybe Moody would need me for some urgent work today, maybe I shouldn’t ‘rob’ my employer of my time.
SHUT UP ELF!
Someone who doesn’t appear to have this problem/elf when it comes to work commitment is CJ. She was late in again this morning for a change and Kirstie and I are now starting to tott up the excuses she has for when she is tardy. This morning she rushed in at 11.15am whimpering something about a car crash on the motorway. I ignored her – as I normally try to – but Andre wheeled herself over immediately keen for the gossip and drama. What had happened was that in slow traffic (you know, the start, stop kind) on the motorway on her way in CJ had gone into the back of someone when she wasn’t concentrating or possibly eating a banana or doing her accounts for Q1 at the wheel. The other car was fine but hers was a bit, well, fucked and she still decided to drive all the way to work anyway. It’s currently parked up in the car park behind my office and she keeps pointing it out as evidence even though you can’t see the damage from here.
I should feel sympathy for CJ, she’s all shaken up and has practically written off her car (apparently) but it’s a little bit too familiar to me. I mean her car has been an excuse for her lateness on a number of occasions – the headlights have gone, she’s pranged it in the ice, she needed to get the MOT, a new tyre etc etc. Kirstie is sure the ‘accident’ excuse has been used before and it may well have been done. Now she is in she spends the first hour explaining the accident and that she has to wait for the recovery people to tow it to anyone who will listen, I even catch her in the kitchen telling the reception ladies while I’m getting my sandwich. Then she calls up some guy in the legal department who drives in from the same neck of the woods as her (and somehow manages to get in for 8am every day – amazing, how does he do it? What’s that? He gets an early night and then gets up early to miss the rush hour?! Genius!) and asks for a lift home. Turns out he is leaving at 4pm so she’ll be heading off then too. Well she will have been in the office for at least 5 hours at that point, she’ll be tired bless her. Ever heard of something called public transport CJ?
Finally after lunch she turns to me and says “Oh I won’t be in tomorrow”. Right. Why’s that then? “Well I had this accident this morning…” I cut her off quickly telling her I am aware of this as she has relayed the story to everyone who has come to her desk or called her today. So her insurance company are providing a replacement vehicle, as they do and they’ll only deliver it to her home not her work address so she now has to wait in for it “and who knows when it will show up!” Handy for you CJ, another day off of work? Well it is unlike you not to be in the office.
I’m amazed she can get away with shit like this all the time. I wouldn’t be so flabbergasted if she didn’t do it all the time and this was a rare occurrence. If she’s not sick, it’s snowing, and she can’t work from home because she’s poured water all over her laptop or she can’t get out of bed because she’s tired or she’s had a dingle in her car, I’m interested to hear the next round of excuses. Perhaps she could have a ‘family emergency’ or lock herself out of her house or have a gas leak or be held hostage by gunmen or have a hospital appointment or prang her car (oh no, sorry she already did that didn’t she?) or get abducted by aliens or lose her sight or get lost on the way to work or stuck on a plane in Barcelona or get struck by lightening or loose a finger in a freak fun fair accident or was picked for the winter Olympics and is running late or lost her car keys and couldn’t possibly find her way to the train station or slept through her alarm or is starring in a West End comedy and has a matinee on a Thursday to attend or broke her mobile or her dog is sick or it’s Q1 and has a lot of paper work to do?
Kirstie and I are going to start up a spreadsheet of excuses and tick them off as she comes up with them. We might create some nice pie charts and diagrams from this information and maybe even categorise the excuses in to areas such as ‘car’, ‘house’, ‘act of god’. I will of course publish the results and they shall appear on the blog before then being submitted to the LSE. Actually that could be a good way to kill the 3 hours remaining of my work day….
Tuesday 2 March 2010
Now you see me, now you don’t
Off sick yesterday hence the lack of blog. I’m starting to wonder if being in bed all day with crippling stomach pain and frequent trips to the loo still wins over being in this place for the day. I might try and get food poisoning every Sunday night at this rate.
Friday’s escape from Alcatraz was going fine until CJ and Moody piped up. I had my things all packed up, the computer shut down and my coat under my arm. Harley sits a couple of rows back from me behind a screen so if I could get up and walk out with some silent waves goodbye then chances are he wouldn’t suss until at least 4.15. But first I have to run the gauntlet of freaks. I sit at the end of a row by the window, I quite like where I sit as I’m tucked away and any approaching management is normally picked up on so the ‘Boss Key’ can be implemented (Alt and the Tab key – life saver) but it does mean I have to pass 4 other people to go anywhere. These 4 people are CJ, Moody, Andre and another guy who I haven’t talked about yet, mainly because he is a normal and nothing to write home about.
So, I’m standing slowly with bag on shoulder and coat in arm. I make eye contact with Gunner and Ginger and being the sensible and normal work colleagues they are they understand I am leaving early, sneaking out, making a run for it and so they mouth ‘goodbye’ and wave at me. I start to walk past CJ and Andre, not saying anything (normally I would be polite as to say ta ta, I wasn’t dragged up you know) in order to stay under my cloak of invisibility but as I hit Moody’s desk CJ turns and says “oh, bye, have a good weekend!” at the top of her voice. I turn and smile, my eyes throwing daggers and telling her subliminally to shut the fuck up but it’s too late…. Andre pipes up too, although in her defense in a nice and quiet fashion but then as Moody cottons on I hear “oh going part time are we?!” over my shoulder as I start sprinting for the door. He’s only joking of course and chuckling away to himself so I turn and say “yep!” and then before anyone else can throw their oar in sprint for the exit. As I go I can see Gunner and Ginger throwing up their arms in despair and mouthing silent obscenities at CJ through the partition – they understand my pain.
Throughout all of this I didn’t dare look over at Harley’s desk; I have no idea if he clocked me and if he did whether he gave two shits about it. I’ve heard nothing back from Gunner so I’m assuming nothing was said. Home scott free, in the bar by 4.30pm – get in.
In a twisted way I do worry that my absence from this place isn’t missed maybe as much as it should be. Take yesterday for example when I was off sick. I rang Gunner to say I wouldn’t be in and it turns out Moon Monkey or Harley probably aren’t in anyway so he says to chill and stay home and rest up. This is a good thing on a sick day as it means what the management don’t know can’t hurt them and my sick record stays low. I’m not one for taking sick days, I’ll normally struggle in unless I’m strapped to the toilet through no choice of my own or highly infectious (I’m not that selfish – “oh I can’t possibly take time off work, I’ll struggle in and just cough my germs over everyone else”, yeah thanks) and I like to save my sick days for days I’m not sick. You know, those days when you just can’t be arsed or fancy a trip to Thorpe Park.
So now Harley is in today, no idea I was off yesterday and by now long forgotten my early exit on Friday afternoon. No blemish on my record. But then no one else has really noticed I’ve been off, a couple of people asking how I am feeling, the usual suspects really i.e. the normals. And Moody is just glad I’m back so he can give me work to do and stop having kittens because there’s someone back in the office to do his photocopying for him. Apart from that it seems my vacant seat yesterday went unnoticed and all that important work I had to do yesterday (cough, cough) could wait after all. This is a double edged sword but I think I’ll take invisibility over high demand in this place any day.
Friday’s escape from Alcatraz was going fine until CJ and Moody piped up. I had my things all packed up, the computer shut down and my coat under my arm. Harley sits a couple of rows back from me behind a screen so if I could get up and walk out with some silent waves goodbye then chances are he wouldn’t suss until at least 4.15. But first I have to run the gauntlet of freaks. I sit at the end of a row by the window, I quite like where I sit as I’m tucked away and any approaching management is normally picked up on so the ‘Boss Key’ can be implemented (Alt and the Tab key – life saver) but it does mean I have to pass 4 other people to go anywhere. These 4 people are CJ, Moody, Andre and another guy who I haven’t talked about yet, mainly because he is a normal and nothing to write home about.
So, I’m standing slowly with bag on shoulder and coat in arm. I make eye contact with Gunner and Ginger and being the sensible and normal work colleagues they are they understand I am leaving early, sneaking out, making a run for it and so they mouth ‘goodbye’ and wave at me. I start to walk past CJ and Andre, not saying anything (normally I would be polite as to say ta ta, I wasn’t dragged up you know) in order to stay under my cloak of invisibility but as I hit Moody’s desk CJ turns and says “oh, bye, have a good weekend!” at the top of her voice. I turn and smile, my eyes throwing daggers and telling her subliminally to shut the fuck up but it’s too late…. Andre pipes up too, although in her defense in a nice and quiet fashion but then as Moody cottons on I hear “oh going part time are we?!” over my shoulder as I start sprinting for the door. He’s only joking of course and chuckling away to himself so I turn and say “yep!” and then before anyone else can throw their oar in sprint for the exit. As I go I can see Gunner and Ginger throwing up their arms in despair and mouthing silent obscenities at CJ through the partition – they understand my pain.
Throughout all of this I didn’t dare look over at Harley’s desk; I have no idea if he clocked me and if he did whether he gave two shits about it. I’ve heard nothing back from Gunner so I’m assuming nothing was said. Home scott free, in the bar by 4.30pm – get in.
In a twisted way I do worry that my absence from this place isn’t missed maybe as much as it should be. Take yesterday for example when I was off sick. I rang Gunner to say I wouldn’t be in and it turns out Moon Monkey or Harley probably aren’t in anyway so he says to chill and stay home and rest up. This is a good thing on a sick day as it means what the management don’t know can’t hurt them and my sick record stays low. I’m not one for taking sick days, I’ll normally struggle in unless I’m strapped to the toilet through no choice of my own or highly infectious (I’m not that selfish – “oh I can’t possibly take time off work, I’ll struggle in and just cough my germs over everyone else”, yeah thanks) and I like to save my sick days for days I’m not sick. You know, those days when you just can’t be arsed or fancy a trip to Thorpe Park.
So now Harley is in today, no idea I was off yesterday and by now long forgotten my early exit on Friday afternoon. No blemish on my record. But then no one else has really noticed I’ve been off, a couple of people asking how I am feeling, the usual suspects really i.e. the normals. And Moody is just glad I’m back so he can give me work to do and stop having kittens because there’s someone back in the office to do his photocopying for him. Apart from that it seems my vacant seat yesterday went unnoticed and all that important work I had to do yesterday (cough, cough) could wait after all. This is a double edged sword but I think I’ll take invisibility over high demand in this place any day.
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