Tonight Matthew I am going to be….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cancel my appointments…

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

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

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

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

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

Temp mis-hearing of the day:

Nancy: “He’s working from home”

Temp hears: “He’s quite good looking”

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

Forecast

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

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

Nancy: “Why?”

Temp: “Because look how cold it is!”

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

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

Nancy: “I dunno, maybe then.”

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

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

Temp: “Er who is Michael Fish?”

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

Temp: “I have”

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

Temp: “Well it says ‘White Cloud’”

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

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

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

Temp: “Eh?”

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

Temp: “But it might by the weekend?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Temp: “WILL IT REALLY?!!”

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

Temp: “What?”

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

Temp: “Eh?”

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

Stupid Bloody Questions Day

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

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

“Is Kingston colder than the rest of London?”

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

“Yes, why wouldn’t you?”

“Well I thought they might be special”

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

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

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

“I dunno….”

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

Do I have any choice in the matter?

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look really moody.”

Only when you’re in the room.

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

“What’s the number?”

“1234”

I look and find it straight away.

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

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

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

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

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

“Do they still want volunteers?!”

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

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

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

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

Evacuation imminent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ahhhh, silence. Good work Kirstie.

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

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

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

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

At this point Andre strides into the room:

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

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

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

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

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

Happy weekends people.

OMG

Yesterday I promised you more on Temp-Gate and the hi-larious emails that were going to and forth between my good self and Kristie. I always keep a promise so here are the goods (although hi-larious may be over egging the pudding some what…)

Just to set the scene, if you cast your mind back to yesterdays rant-o-rama we had just sat through the Sugar Land experience with both Temp 1 & 2 (aka Ms Rigsby) vocalising their love of gingerbread houses and tarmac roads made of liquorice. Temp 1 had then exclaimed:

“See, you thought I was crazy!”

And I had responded:

“Yes and now we think you are both crazy – it’s not unusual in this department to have more than one crazy person.”

Which brings us up to date and to this…


From: Kirstie
Sent: 17 November 2010 10:24
To: Nancy
Subject: WTF

I have never been so sick of the words ‘exciting’ and ‘weird’ … really, are there no other words?!!


From: Nancy
Sent: 17 November 2010 10:31
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: WTF

Don’t forget ‘sweet’ and the emphasis on ‘sooooooooo’ before everything…

“It was soooooooo exciting!”
“That is sooooooooooo sweet!”
“You are sooooooooo weird!”

Her total astonishment at the most mundane things is also is odd, e.g. the use of ‘hokey cokey’ instead of ‘pokey’, the fact we have mushy peas, the weather, having an hours lunch break. OK, I get it, it’s different from Australia but why does she react like I have just told her that here we think the moon is made of cheese and children are expected to work in the factories from the age of 3?

Sorry I am ranting now. I will stop.


From: Kirstie
Sent: 17 November 2010 10:56
To: Nancy
Subject: RE: WTF

Ah … forgot about the ‘sooooooo’ haven’t picked up on the sweet, but thanks, I probably will now!

Yes, the astonishment, it’s not like Australia is THAT different, okay I haven’t lived there for a while but unless it’s changed beyond all recognition or she’s been living under a rock the surprise is all a cry for attention.

You’re allowed to rant :)


From: Nancy
Sent: 17 November 2010 12:22
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: WTF

And the reason no one was interested when she talked about Sugar Land was because we were trying to ignore her, whereas I would totally humour Ms Rigsby as she is not an annoying freak….


From: Kirstie
Sent: 17 November 2010 12:25
To: Nancy
Subject: RE: WTF

Think that we should keep them apart as much as possible so the annoying doesn’t rub off onto Ms Rigsby


From: Nancy
Sent: 17 November 2010 12:28
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: WTF

Good point – can you imagine 2 of them in the office?! JTFC it would be unbearable.


From: Kirstie
Sent: 17 November 2010 12:33
To: Nancy
Subject: RE: WTF

Yeah, I can and it isn’t pretty. Stuff of nightmares.


However, we may be too late to stop that freight train. Ms Rigsby has been chatting to Temp at every available opportunity and it’s not all about work. Then at lunch time I caught them eating together in the kitchen. This must be stopped. Firstly to save the poor impressionable, incredibly English Ms Rigsby and her young mind and secondly to save everyone else’s sanity. I shudder at the thought of more excitable young 20 something females running around the office exclaiming that everything is AMAZING and SOOOOO COOL! Just now Kirstie mentioned the Christmas market that will be here on the 5th and I accidentally thought aloud as to whether they will have reindeer again (and the thimbles of mulled wine – very stingy with the wine) and Temp almost blew an excitement gasket.

“OH…(breath)….MY…(breath)…GOD! REINDEER?! HERE!??!?!?!?! (It honestly warrants that much punctuation) THAT IS SOOOOO COOL!! AMAAAAZING!”

Kirstie leaned in with “Er you need to calm down now, bring it down a notch” because frankly she was starting to scare us.

Now try to imagine that times 2. Double the excitement, double the annoying screeching, everything in stereo. And if that wasn’t bad enough they’d probably wind each other up so much into a frenzy that one of them would end up wetting their pants or fainting. Although at least they’d be a lot quieter unconscious.

WTF?!

I am slightly concerned that the Temp bashing might be getting a bit tiresome for everyone. God knows I am starting to bore myself with it and would never like to be labelled a whinger. However, it seems the blogs I get the biggest or most positive feedback on tend to be the ones where I’m ranting about a particular member of staff (well I guess that’s why you tune in) and to be fair there is not much else going on around here to report so in true British style I’m going to carry on regardless!

Actually that was a small white lie, there have been other newsworthy occurrences here at Freak Headquarters so I’ll try and sneak those in today as well. I’ll try my damndest.

So. Temp bashing.

(Wow can you imagine if that was actually a legal sport or we took the term literally?! Oh the fun we could have! Wooden spoon at the ready!)

Anyway, small digression, back to the subject in hand. Temp came in this morning at about 9.30am which is a bit late in her books. She was very quiet and wearing glasses which I haven’t seen before. They have those lenses in them that make her eyes look massive, like some comedy specs you’d get at a fancy dress shop turning your pupils into saucers (and before I get any hate mail for abusing the disabled I am myself a 4 eyed speccy geek so I am allowed to poke fun at my own kind – it’s the law) and are quite alarming to look at. Every time I have to turn to speak to her it scares me slightly, it’s like she is trying to read my mind with those peepers or possibly has some x-ray vision…eugh, weird.

Again digressing, sorry I get hauled up in the details sometimes. You may have noticed.

I then remembered that last night she went to the company social outing to a Comedy Club in town. Ahhhh, perhaps a trifle hung over? No? As it happens she got sick (not due to alcofrol) half way through the evening and so spent most of it in the ladies and then sat at the back of the room waiting for it all to finish (her bag was in the middle of the room and I think the prospect of getting picked on by a crap comedian might have been too much to bear). She’s still feeling rough today. Right then – so perhaps a nice quiet day for me?! Maybe she’ll even go home sick early if I’m very lucky?! Not to be. It appears that even in ill health she manages to annoy, whitter and get far too excited about crap. My ‘WFT?’ tally has been going up and up recently….

Temp: “I thought someone just said ‘Westfields on Sunday’”
Nancy: “In relation to what?”
Temp: “Oh nothing, it’s just EXCITING – something might be going on”

WTF?

Or yesterday when she had just discovered those voucher code sites where you can get 241 deals on restaurants:

Temp: “Did you know about these websites?”
Nancy: “Er yeah, they’ve been around for years”
Temp: “It’s AMAZING I can afford to eat out again!”
Nancy: “Cool”
Temp: “You can get 2 meals for £10 at the slug and lettuce”
Nancy: “Yeah I try never to pay full price eating out any more”
Temp: “It’s sooooo cooooooool!”
Nancy: “…..Uhuh”
Temp: “This is the best day of my life!” (she seriously said that)
Nancy: “Er ok, calm down…”
Temp: “What? I’m EXCITED!”
Nancy: “OK I apologise, obviously you have led a somewhat uneventful and sheltered life up until now and so the discovery of 241 meals at Pizza Express is the pinnacle of your existence so far.”

WTF?

Or even just now as I was typing the WTF examples another just popped out of her mouth:

Temp: “IT’S BRIGHT COLOURS TIME!”
Nancy: “Er really?”
Temp: “YEAH BRIGHT COLOURS TIME!” (Said brandishing a highlighter pen)
Nancy: (fuck sake, I suppose I should humour her) “So what’s getting the bright colour treatment then?!”
Temp: “THE POST REGISTER!”
Nancy: “Riiiight” (not sure how she is going to do this as the post register is an electronic spreadsheet – is she going to draw on the lines on her monitor with the highlighter? Oh jesus, I so don’t care…)
Temp: “YEAH AND IT’S THE 2009 POST REGISTER!”
Nancy: (God I need to get away from this, quick close the deal) “Well you knock yourself out.”
Temp: “I WILL!”

WTF?

I was also enlightened earlier today about a song at the Comedy Club that they turned into the words ‘The Hokey Cokey’ – “It was hilarious!” Um, correct me if I’m wrong but that is an ACTUAL song already. “No it’s not it’s the ‘Hokey Pokey’” Say what now? Oh god another UK/Australian difference, here we go again…. Kirstie confirmed that in Oz they call it the Hokey Pokey. “Why would you call it the Hokey Cokey?! That’s just weird!” exclaims the Temp. And ‘The Hokey Pokey’ is totally normal? Of course. I couldn’t resist to point out the fact that they are BOTH ridiculous titles for a song but neither is more ridiculous than the other (apart from the fact the Hokey Pokey just conjures up a whole word of wrong-ness when singing it with children) and thankfully managed to shut her up on the subject.

We also got pulled back to the ‘Sugar Land’ revelation. I may have not mentioned this before. There is a town in Texas in the US of A called Sugar Land, you may have heard of it, you may not. Either way it’s the kind of name you would read and think “cool” or possibly imagine a land made of sugar for all of say, 30 seconds. Temp discovered this name on a UPS package we received and unfortunately thought about it for a lot longer than 30 seconds and felt it necessary to voice these thoughts. I won’t go into details but by now you can imagine how painful it was.

So today Temp 2, or Ms Rigsby as Kirstie has taken to calling her (hat tip to Kirstie for the blog nick name – it can be so effortless sometimes) got her hands on another UPS package. She came running over to share this hilarious discovery with Temp 1.

“SEE IT’S NOT JUST ME WHO THINKS ITS COOL!”

Sigh. Here we go.

And go and go and go…. “Why did no one think it was cool when I mentioned it?” Er because you are possibly one of the most irritating people to have to sit next to for 8-9 hours a day and therefore we try and make as little eye contact with you as possible? Hmmm, I think a shrug should do it.

* Shrug *

“See, you thought I was crazy!”
“Yes and now we think you are both crazy – it’s not unusual in this department to have more than one crazy person.”

PING! Up jumps and email from Kirstie and therein followed a conversation which I shall share with you tomorrow, it involved a lot of laughing at our computer screens which made Temp very self conscious and I must say made me smirk even more. Evil aren’t I? I’ll fill you in on the details I promise, but not right now. Well I can’t spoil you with everything in one go can I? There is also the promise of other news but that will have to wait as well as I have to stop typing and answer yet another stupid question Ms Specsavers.

Tune in tomorrow for further updates.

Dear Santa...

There’s good news and there’s bad news. Actually wait, no... there’s just bad news I’m afraid.

In my absence last week, whilst I was wiling away the hours of my flexi Friday waiting for the boiler man to arrive (and of course he didn’t until 4.50pm) my mind wandered for a moment to my workplace – I know it’s an unhealthy habit and I need to kick it somehow – and to the Temp and her interview. I hoped and prayed that she’d nail it, wow the HR team with her know how and interview razzmatazz and come Monday I would arrive to find her desk empty and a note thanking me for all my help with her preparation. Unfortunately this was not to be.

Instead I arrived to an empty desk (oh joy!) but then realised this was only because she wasn’t due in until 9am (oh arse). I waited the polite amount of time before asking Kirstie how Temp had got on (I let her take off her coat and power up her computer) and was met with a grave expression. Oh god, what did she do?

Turns out the interview ended up being an ‘informal chat’ which lasted all of 3 minutes. Temp was gone and back in 15 minutes and it took 10 of that to walk to and from the other building. The line they gave her was that they had decided that as they needed someone to start immediately they were going to take on a temp and then look to re-advertise in January. Hmmmm. And they only realised this on the morning of her interview? After 2 weeks of waiting about? Hang on, if my Clueless skills do me any justice then I think there could be another agenda here, I smell a rat and I think it might be an Arsenal supporter shaped rat...

“Gunner?”

Why Gunner why? We were so close to getting rid of her and you blew it. We could have had peaceful mornings back, the inane chatter would be gone from our walls for at least 90% of the day (well I’d be expecting her to pop back every now and again to torment me) and I would be able to get on with some work without answering a question about British popular culture every 4 minutes.

“Well HR rang me and asked me what she was like....”

That’s it, the death toll. Nail in the coffin.

“So I told them that while the work was getting done....well.....she was just....really fucking annoying. I mean it; she’s really starting to get on my bloody nerves now.”

“So wouldn’t the logical thing to be to tell them she is lovely and let some other department put up with her?”

“Nah she’d never get on with Deborah – can you imagine them working together?” He has a point. “Anyway she’s gone after Christmas, even if there is more work to do, I can’t bear it for much longer.”

Scrooge. Well bah humbug to you Gunner, I’ll remember next time she’s got you trapped in a conversation about how she petted reindeer in ‘C-ovent Garden’ this weekend and how “OH MY GOD THEY WERE SO CUTRE AND I WAS SOOOO EXCITED, IT WAS AWESOME AND THEN WE SAW THE LIGHTS IN REGENT STREET AND I WAS SCREAMING ‘OH MY GOD IT’S THE LION KING!!’ AND THEN WHEN I GOT UP CLOSE I REALISED IT WAS NARNIA AND I WAS LIKE – OH – BUT IT WAS STILL SO AWESOME!” And you have that look on your face like you want to do anything to stop her talking, you want to get out your chair and walk away but can’t see any available exits.

I’ll remember.

Soooo. The first half hour of my day was spent listening to Temp’s weekend events, Temp’s interview and Temp’s flight she has booked for Christmas to Munich and what a great deal she got. I also heard some pointless story about a woman who once conned her friend into forging a medical certificate, was asked at least 8 times if it was getting colder in the office, had my own conversations with other people interrupted with a “did you just say....?” on various occasions, was subjected to the story of the green lever arch file and only had a small reprieve when she went to get some lunch for 20 minutes. I even stayed late in the office just to enjoy the silence and managed to get done in that 40 minutes more than I had achieved in the previous 4 hours.

Still there’s only 5 weeks until Christmas. If I’m a very good girl maybe Father Christmas will give us peace and good will for the New Year?

Ma journée a été la merde

Thursdays officially suck balls this week. That is official as I just made it so. Today is the day everyone wants a piece of Nancy and they want it NOW. I seem to have at least 1 day a week like this at the moment which in my view is just not on. Bring back hanging! That’s what I say. Not sure if it would help my situation but lets that that chance!

So far today:

I have had approximately 47 visits to my desk from Moody
He has left approximately 3 bear hairs on my desk/print outs/Satsuma
A man in Ghana was very rude to me on email
I was equally rude to the Ghana man back
The Ghana man has stopped emailing me now
Kirstie and I attempted the 2 minute silence at 11am unlike 75% of the office
The Temp tried to talk to me during the silence and was met by a hand in her face
After her initial shock/confusion at my reaction she cottoned on and joined in and afterwards apologised
Harley called me over to his desk much in the way a headmaster would do to a naught school child
I chose to make him wait 5 minutes before responding
I spent my ENTIRE lunch break listening to The Temps ideas for her interview tomorrow
I made sure I gave her as much advice as I could so she gets the job and therefore moves desks
Kirstie made me a lovely hat with my name on it out of cardboard
People admired my hat and were most probably secretly jealous
Kirstie took a photo on my phone of me in aforementioned hat
I would upload this photo if I knew how to get pictures off of my phone and on to the computer
I ate 4 chocolate digestive biscuits in order to quell the stress levels that built to dangerously high levels between the hours of 2.30pm and 3.45pm
The office got very dark, very light and then very dark again
I wore my hat to go and speak to Harley and he said it was very fetching
I had another chocolate digestive biscuit for extra safety precautions
I acquired further safety precautions in the way of another box of condoms
I told Kirstie that while I appreciated her concern for my sexual health the joke is now wearing a bit thin
Kirstie apologised and then threw another box of condoms at me
I opened up my own sexual advice clinic for Thursday lunch times down by the guillotine and binding machine
Reading that back it sounds like some kind of S&M club which I can assure you it is not
In fact it doesn’t exist at all I made the clinic idea up

Thankfully tomorrow is a flexi day pour moi (I’m getting used to these now!) and so I am safe in the knowledge that in 31 minutes time this poop-bag of a work day will be over and I won’t have to pick another beard hair off my desk, receive international offensive emails or give advice on how to demonstrate communication skills in an interview until Monday. And that is 3 whole days away. That makes me very happy.

Enjoy your weekends people x

Shouting about Chinese whispers

This afternoon I have a headache delivered straight from the depths of Beelzebub’s handbag so it’s going to be a quickie. Kirstie has given me some Neurofen tension headache tablets that seem to be kicking in but the Crapbags system is counteracting all of the good work Neurofen is doing…I’m in a losing battle I think. I’ve got another new title to add to my cap which is ‘Master Data Manager’…I HAVE THE POWEEEERRRRR! As He-Man once cried (get down Battle Cat – not on my shiny new chest plate…). But as we all well know with great power comes great responsibility, or in this case just a shit load more work. Great, just what I needed. No really, I didn’t have enough to do in the first place, I was merely here sat twiddling my thumbs, making paper clip chains and drawing pretty things on post-it notes, however you may have mistaken the piles of paperwork, cursing at my computer and the enormous to do list sitting to my left as dossing.

In usual fashion of this place this esteemed title was granted to me without my knowledge / anyone asking if I might be interested / considering I might have enough to do already and I found out about it through an email informing me I know have access to the MDM mail box. Do I? How nice. What’s that for then? Oh no, look here’s an email about a meeting I wasn’t invited to (for once) where they decided I’d do the work. Right then.

I shouted at The Temp earlier as well. OK so ‘shout’ is a bit of a strong word but I definitely raised my voice and I definitely snapped. It ended up being aimed at Kirstie as well because we were back to Chinese fucking whispers again with me in the middle. I can’t even remember what was said…oh that was it, Kirstie made a comment (at this point we weren’t even involving The Temp in the conversation) about her brother having a date and then Temp did her usual “What?!” and said she thought Kirstie had said she had a date – but she said it at the volume of a small frightened child so the Kirstie thought she said something all together different at which point I said:

“JESUS CHRIST WOULD YOU BOTH SPEAK UP AS I AM FED UP OF SPEAKING CHINESE WHISPERS HERE AND TRANSLATING FOR YOU BOTH!”

Ahem. The Temp laughed, Kirstie looked slightly taken aback as she was able to read the frustration and rage in my face better than Temp (she’ll slip up on that soon enough…) and then puzzled and I had to explain what they had both just done. When I’d calmed down slightly I emailed Kirstie to apologise explaining the outburst wasn’t directed at her but that Temp was getting on my nerves this week with the whole 50 questions, mumbling away and not shutting up. When I read it back I sounded like a right old bitch so I finished the email up with “I’m being a bitch aren’t I?” Kirstie came back with “Not really”. She seems to whole heartedly agree and added she had had a word last week about her slouching and sitting with her hand in her head which doesn’t give a good impression.

Nancy immediately sits up in chair….

Temp has actually been a lot quieter this afternoon. Hang on, I just realised that’s because she hasn’t been sat at her desk – that’ll be why then.

In other news the packets of condoms in my desk draw are reaching a ridiculous high. I may have to start returning them to the stationary cupboard as I’m sure there are other people in this office who could put them to better use than me. Or perhaps they’d make good Christmas presents? “Merry Christmas Gran!” No? I’ll stick to the ginger chocolates then.

Sweet Baby Jesus!

I’m back on Twitter. Turns out it was because my computers suddenly started not liking the new version of Twitter – both my home and work PC’s. Not sure why they suddenly took a turn for the worse but there we are. Anyway, some fiddling and a fixing and I’m back on the old version and back on line! I am very lonely there though, I think I may be tweeting to a big cyber black hole, talking to myself (nothing new there) and no one else. So if you happen to be on there come and follow me @Nancyclue and maybe tweet back so I don’t feel like a complete twat. I suppose not everyone’s into this Twitter thing, I wasn’t up until about 3 weeks ago and now I’m hooked. It’s also filling the abyss that is FaceFart as this no longer works on my PC. Seems to be working on everyone elses but it’s not the kind of thing you ring the IT help desk for is it?

“Hi there my Facebook isn’t working, could someone drop everything they are doing and come sort that out for me so I can carry on using it on work time? Thanks awfully.”

Yesterday the Temp reached all new highs with the question asking. I’d put her down as a competent, experienced gal with a hint of initiative but it appears not. Well if she does they she’s not showing it and the initiative has not kicked in yet. I can understand the asking of questions regarding things like what a particular contract might be or who to contact about a missing document, she’s still finding her feet after all but when I end up actually doing her job for her I start to question whether we’re getting our £8 an hours worth here.

Questions ranged from “where do I find some envelopes?” (she has been to the stationary cupboard before, I’ve seen the evidence on her desk – bit of a spending spree) to how she should write an email. There has also been the numerous enquiries about British life that seem to allude and confuse her such as “why are you wearing a poppy?” (I know my history isn’t brilliant but the Australians did join the war didn’t they?) to “where can I get a poppy?” (have you not walked into a shop / train station / bank / our own office reception in the past 2 weeks?) and after my comment about the weather warnings yesterday her excited exclamation of “there’s a storm coming?!” Sorry, not a storm by Southern Hemisphere standards I’m afraid, there will be some strong winds and some rain is all.

I know even reading this back I am sounding like a grade A beeatch but it is fairly relentless. She also seems bemused at things I say and not only speaks at very low levels but seems to have a hearing problem as well. I know I am prone to muttering but I articulate fairly well and if someone is asking me something I’ll reply in a nice clear voice (unless it’s gossip of course in which case it’s hushed tones…). However with the Temp it’s like Chinese feckin’ whispers.

“Yeah it’s not going to be easy”
“What did you say?”
“I said it’s not going to be easy – what did you think I said?”
“Oh nothing, don’t worry”

But the look on her face tells me she thinks I said something like:

“Your mother is an in-bred 3 armed monkey lady”
“What did you say?”
“I said it’s not going to be easy – what did you think I said?”
“Oh nothing, don’t worry”

There’s also occasion when I use a slang word or something and I might as well be speaking Spanish. Or this morning I was joking about and said something was a pound but I instead put on my best mockney Eastenders audition voice and said it was a “paaaaand!” “What?” Sigh, christ on a bike… “Pound” – “What?” “POUND!” I now adopt my best Margo Leadbetter tone and say “pound, I said pound but I was doing my mockney accen…oh never mind. It’s a p-o-u-n-d” “What?” Kirstie jumps in with “a pound” – “Oh right, why didn’t you say so?”

You see? You see what I am dealing with here.

Temp also has a lot of Americanisms in he vocab, I’m not sure if this is a normal thing for young Aussies to have or if she’s just watched too much of The OC growing up but one word which is a particular fave of hers is ‘sweet’. As in everything is good – it’s sweet. “Ah, sweet!” There’s also some head bobbing that goes along with it all, reminds me a bit of Bill and Ted but she probably doesn’t remember who they are.

Anyway. Yesterday I was ranting about this and there evolved some possible game playing to be had out of it all. A hat tip goes here to B (merci) who suggested said game and got us rolling on a list of comebacks. The idea is that every time the Temp says “sweet” I or Kirstie retort with another word that follows it up, for example ‘shop’ – sweet…shop, geddit? And so‘Temp Bingo’ is born and soon there will be cards made up and blotter pens handed out. Genius. Great way to pass the afternoon and possibly a way of shutting Temp up. I suppose eventually she’d cotton on to what we were doing and the game would be over but it’d be worth it in the long run.

Here’s the list so far:

“Sweet….”

Shop
Home
Sixteen
and low
Baby Jesus
Ass
Cheeks
Child of mine
FA
Peas
Mary & Joseph
Potato
Pickle
Tea
Thing
Transvestite
Talk
Dreams
Bread

I’m gagging to use ‘Transvestite’, ‘Child of Mine’ and “Mary & Joseph” I think it would play out really well.

“Temp you can head home for the day if you want to”
“Really? Ah sweet!”
“…Child of Mine”
“Say what?”
“Eh? Oh nothing don’t worry, you head off now. Oh and we’re going to the pub tomorrow lunch if you want to come?”
“Yeah sure, that’d be sweet”
“…Transvestite”
“What did you just say?”
“I said your mother is an in-bred 3 armed monkey lady”
“Oh right, yeah you too! Bye!”

If we ever get the opportunity to play Temp Bingo I’ll let you know how it all goes. And how loud I shout BINGO!

BELIEVE IT and RECEIVE IT!

Clueless Entertainment© is glad to bring you more snippets of comedy from the Vendor Database! Yes people, it’s that time of the week where Nancy downs tools to spend hours upon hours dredging through the cack and plain weirdness those lovely sales people in far reaching corners of the world feel the need to send her way. She is diligently sifting through the (currently) 200+ emails (it’s been a while, I’m catching up…) in order to update a pretty useless database and more importantly find those funny sign offs, spelling mistakes and references to Jesus just for you!

Today’s particular favourite comes from a friendly freighting company – they’re passionate about the environment, they don’t want you needlessly printing out this email and destroying the rainforest so they have some wise words to pass on…

"If you build a garden that delights your eye and brings joy to your heart.”

Say what now?

“Most of us prefer choosing plants that blossom all summer, because this is the season when we usually spend most of our time in the garden. However one of the greatest challenges is to keep the garden well-groomed all year round.”

Excuse me – what’s that about keeping my garden well-groomed all year round?

“Before printing this e-mail think if it's really needed: The environment belongs to everybody.”

Oh I see you mean THAT garden – riiiiight.

And yes people, our friend Mr Isibor is back! I tried to block him but it seems that my email spam blocker is completely ineffective as he’s still SHOUTING AT ME in emails. And once again spreading the word of Jesus…

NAME IT and CLAIM IT, BELIEVE IT and RECEIVE IT!!!!!!!!!!
It's a POWERFUL PRAYER! When you are DOWN to nothing .... God is UP to something

Father, in the Name of Jesus, bless me even while I'm reading this prayer and bless the one that sent this to me in a special way. Open doors in our lives today, Save and set free!

Give us a double portion of your Spirit as we take back everything that the devil has stolen:
****Emotional Health
****Physical Health
****Finances
****Relationships
****Children
**** Jobs
****Homes
****Marriages

I cancel every plot, plan and scheme the enemy has devised against us in the NAME OF JESUS.

And I declare:
NO WEAPON FORMED AGAINST US WILL PROSPER.

I speak LIFE into every dead situation. And, I thank You that nothing is over until YOU say it's over!
Speak prophetically into our lives and to our situations:
****our households are blessed;
**** our health is blessed;
**** our marriages are blessed;
**** our finances are blessed;
**** our relationships are blessed;
**** our businesses are blessed;
**** our jobs are blessed;
**** our children are blessed;
**** our grandchildren are blessed;
**** our parents are blessed;
**** our siblings are blessed;
**** our ministries are blessed;
**** our decisions are blessed;
**** our friends are blessed.****
Mortgages are paid and debts cancelled;

our hearts' desires are on the way;

According to YOUR perfect will and plan for our lives.YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER FORSAKE US! IN JESUS' NAME!
AMEN!

Say this prayer, and then send it.

Within hours countless people will have prayed for you, and you will have caused a multitude of people to pray to God for each other 'Safety is not the absence of danger, but is the presence of God'

A kid asked Jesus.... How much do U love me? Jesus replied, 'I love! You this much.' and He stretched His arms to the cross and died for us.

If you believe in God, you will send this to everyone on your list. I like you because of who you are to me. I treat you as a true friend. But if I don't get this back, I get the hint, you don't have time.

Send this to all people in your list within 30 min and something good will happen to you NOW.

This is not a fake....apparently. ....copy and paste this to 15 people in the next 10 min. And you will have one of the best days of your life tomorrow!!!


Will I? Really?! Quick, quick send it on to 15 people in my office!!

A couple of things about this email…

For one I didn’t know Mr Isibor held me in such high regard “I like you because of who you are to me”, I am touched I really am. Secondly what’s with listing all the grandchildren, parents, siblings etc being blessed? Save time and email space and just put ‘family’ – come on now, not a lot of thought has gone into this one has it? And finally I think if Mr Isibor just entered the lottery he might get a lot of what he is looking for in this prayer?

Where is the prayer anyway? Can’t find it. I also didn’t realise the devil stole my finances, I thought that was me being frivolous on Amazon.

I’m kind of glad the blocking didn’t work…

Like a bit of posh?

We have another temp started here this week – another one? How many does Gunner need (one for each hand according to Kirstie – dirty minded girl that she is)? This one is very posh. She seems quite young and impressionable (oh dear) and nervous (hmmm) and prim and proper (riiiight) and we’re all a little concerned she might be a bit too posh for the band of reprobates that make up this department. Kirstie is especially worried (well, take the ‘hand’ comment as case one) about the posh-o-meter.

I for one don’t think posh necessarily means she’ll mind the odd pubic hair reference* or swear, I think it’s her prim and proper and innocent appearance that could be a problem. Temp number one has spoken to her and said “yeah she’s really nice, fair dinkum!” (well maybe I made the latter part of the sentence up but I wouldn’t put it past her) and then has repeatedly told me this – like I don’t believe her.

“She’s really nice you know”
“I don’t doubt that she is”
“I spoke to her the other day and she seems really cool”
“Good for her, why are you trying to convince me of this? Do I need convincing?”

Does she think I have passed judgement already without having even spoken to the girl? Harsh. I haven’t had the chance yet to acquaint myself with the newbie (that sounded seedy, I didn’t intend it to…) and she’s off today as she’s gone on a ‘Hens Do’ according to Temp 1. “A hens do? Do you mean a Hen do? Or is there more than one hen?” Confused expression that I have grown so accustomed to over the past 3 weeks. So the run down on Temp 2 shall have to wait until next week when I’ve managed to back her into a corner and give her 20 questions (again, not meaning to be seedy). I’m predicting, recently graduated, local girl with private education background, plans to go travelling at some stage and lives with her parents. Not that I’m pre-judging. I’m sure she’s very nice. In fact I’ve been told (many times now) that she’s very nice.

Temp 1 continues to talk consistently. I’m not the only one picking up on it now, even Kirstie is getting tired of it. She thinks we need to say something to Temp 1 about it. “I mean it’s fine if we’re sat here working and having the odd conversation but she can’t stand around chatting to people all the time, she’ll get into trouble and it’s also fucking annoying.” This was being whispered while Temp 1 had Ginger cornered talking about some guy she’s seeing or some food she misses from Australia or some ‘quirky’ English thing like brown sauce. I agree with Kirstie but I’m not going to be the one to tell the girl to shut the hell up. For starters I think she’ll take it to heart and possibly never speak again (hmmmm, this might not be a bad thing) and get quite upset and paranoid about it and for seconds I’m not her boss or line manager and I’m not going to be the bad person in this. Ok, ok so I’m also a bit of a wimp but at least I admit it. To be honest we’re more worried someone important like Moon Monkey or Harley will notice and she’ll get in real trouble which wouldn’t be cool.

Maybe if she just swapped places with the other temp who seems very quiet – ideal situation. Someone else gets to listen to her go on and on about whatever it is that’s important to a 24 year old Australian living in the UK and I get to watch my language and drop the rude jokes and cock references…..hang on a minute…that might not be so good. To get rid of the incessant chatter or become a clean living, well behaved, good little colleague?

Damn. Well I guess I can invest in some ear plugs.

* I should probably explain the pubic hair. Some how (and I really can’t for the life of me remember exactly how) Kirstie and I got talking about Moon Monkey’s pubic hair the other day. As you do. I think we were chatting about him looking older than he is. Kirstie especially likes to dwell on this as he is 3 years younger than her but looks 13 years older. Apparently he used to tell people he was 52 just so they would say “oh wow you don’t look it!” but now they seem to have stopped doing that and so he’s knocked it on the head (he’s 40). Soooo (that’s it I remember now), we were trying to think why he looks so old and Kirstie reckons it’s because he’s got grey hair and grey chest hair (it pops out the top of his shirt when he takes his tie off on social occasions – retch) and then this of course leads to the question “do you reckon his pubes are grey too?”

Can I point out I wasn’t the one to ask this question.

The thought of MM pubic hair actually made me feel physically ill and I got one of those involuntary shudders of disgust. At this point Temp had wandered over to see what we were talking about (if you’re talking and she can’t hear you she will always want in on the conversation) adding fuel to the fire and so Kirstie surged on with this new found topic. I chose to turn back to my computer and block out everything they were saying, trying to think of kittens and rainbows and happy thoughts and rid my mind of Monkey pubes. But in the peripheral of my hearing I hear “what about Moody then? Ha ha!” More retching and shuddering and my cue to get a very important document from the other side of the office.

ENOUGH!

And dear readers with that parting thought I shall bid you all a good weekend x

Internet fail

Typical. Typical is what it is. As soon as I announce on the blog that I’m officially Tweeting I can’t access flippin’ Twitter from work. FaceArse seems to be up the creek as well. How am I meant to survive the working day like this?! I am not a fancy new-age person with them mobly phones that connect to the interweb so I rely on my work internet to service my networking site needs. I’m hoping it’s just a glitch in the system and all will be well again but the FaceAche page won’t load and I’m only getting the header on my Twitter page.

Please work, please work, please work………

Nope, nada. Sigh.

But I need to rant about this shitty Tuesday I’m having and how Crapbags is the worst thing invented since Sarah Palin and how they should instead pay me millions of pounds to create a system made of poo and twigs and bunnies and post-it notes and nann bread and chewing gum and nappies and it would work just as well if not better. Where can I vent all of this instantaneously? In 140 characters or less? Maybe I’ll contact the BBC, they might be interested. Got to get the word out there somewhere. I know of course I am actually venting right now, on a interweb network and everything but you know when you set something up and look forward to using it or trying it out? Well colour me disappointed today. Disappointed.

As a side note I am also wanting to inflict bodily harm upon Harley and his monumental levels of retarded-ness but unfortunately he is in flippin’ South Africa all week so that will have to wait. I even have a screwdriver in my bag that would do the job. For now I’ll have to step back from the computer, take deep breaths and count to ten.

One…two…three…

Twit

FYI I’ve also joined Twitter, thought it might be nice to have another reason to procrastinate at work and spread my blogging wings. You can find me as @Nancyclue if you’re a fellow Twit. Daily updates to follow shortly….

That is all.

Die Nancy Die!

Firstly apologies for the promised Friday update not happening. I did in fact sit down to do it on Friday afternoon but then discovered my computer at home does not allow me to access the blog due to cookies or some other sweet snack product. Sigh. I think it must be a sign that I am not destined to blog away from the work place. I’ll look into getting that sorted in case of another weekend emergency, I’m sure it’s quite simple but I was quite hung-over and so in no mood to tackle any technical issues. More so some pizza and a cup of tea.

So, where to begin?

I’ll start with the boring bits and then finish on a flourish with the Halloween party…and the aftermath.

Meetings. There – I don’t think you can start with a more boring topic. My continued involvement with this feckin’ new system (I’m bored of calling it ‘the new system’, I’m going to call it Crapbags from now on…) has now also managed to get me on every meeting invite going. Half of them I have no idea what they are about prior to the meeting (and sometimes after the meeting too), most of them I get invited to with 5 minutes notice and none of them are interesting or engaging. I also seem to walk out of them with even more work to do, funny that.

One meeting last week, which was actually not about Crapbags and with the Italian lady, was 2 ½ hours long. Two and a half. And I contributed one head nod and a couple of “mmmm”’s and that was it. I was not meant to be there, I have no idea why they have dragged me into this whole process but it was 2 ½ hours of my life that I will never have back again and that makes me sad. At one point I was wondering if I shoved my pen in my eye that it might get me out of the meeting – drastic but totally worth it in the long run. Now Italian lady wants to schedule a 4 hour workshop. Four hours. Four. Hours. I am going to try and get out of it but I don’t think I can. Maybe a sickie on the day it’s scheduled? I could throw myself down the lift shaft? Stick my wet fingers (careful) in a plug socket? I’ll think of something.

I also had my first experience of a web-based conference call. Like so many things here the person organising it assumed that we’d all been on one of these before and knew what we were doing. I didn’t. Ginger was also invited and just didn’t bother with it as she couldn’t figure it out! “Oh that, yeah I get invited every week but I have no idea where or how to log on to it….” OK. So I figure I’ll do the same. Then I get an email from IT Geek with a link, so I click on it and I’m in the call! There’s a chat board down the side so I say ‘hello’ and ask what I need to do. IT Geek sends me some numbers. ‘OK what do I do with these?’ Nothing. Other people look like they are joining the call. Still nothing. Someone is moving a cursor all over the screen. Which is black. Hmmm. Maybe I’ll just see what happens. Kirstie asks what I’m doing so I explain. We realise the numbers are a phone number and code so I give it a shot – I’m in!

“Nancy Clueless has joined the call”
“Oh hi Nancy I didn’t realise you had dropped out the call?”
“Er, I don’t think I was ever in it….”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, what we were saying is…can you see this by the way?”
“No, it’s a black screen”
“OK hang on”

And so I can now see what his cursor is pointing at. It’s weird. There are 7 people on the end of this phone and his power point presentation is whizzing about on the screen in front of me. What’s weirder is that I am sat at my desk and so they can probably hear everything that’s going on in the office around me too. Inappropriate conversations, people shouting, Kirstie belching (that was one of my favourite moments). Weird.

Crapbags is still a bag of crap. I’m managing to do things to it that apparently aren’t possible as well. Completely unintentionally of course. If I knew what I was doing then I’d be getting paid thousands of pounds a week to be a consultant and trying to fix this shambles. Twice now I have worked my magic and completely baffled the nerds. Once was on Thursday when I managed to approve my own contract (only Harley should be able to do this) and today I received an email from a confused IT bod asking why I had closed and order and then approved it and why I had done this. Er I wasn’t aware I did? “Thank you anyway. I may have more questions. We shall see.” Sounds ominous.

The Temp is starting to get on my tits a bit with the constant chin wagging. She’s also very softly spoken half the time so I don’t even realise she is talking to me. Then I have to say “pardon” or more increasingly “what?!” four or five times until I can hear what she is jabbering on about and by then of course I’m trapped with no where to run and a 15 minute conversation about what bubble and squeak is or some ‘hilarious’ story from her last job. Shush now luv, some of us have work to do….or things infinitely more interesting that listening to you. Because her and Kirstie chat all the time as well and Temp mumbles so much I have also become an interpreter. “What’s she saying?” from Kirstie…”eh you did what?” from temp… Today I finally said “look you’re going to have to speak up because I am turning into the BT call back service here!” Temp apparently thought she was being really loud – er no that would be Kirstie.

I was also followed around at the Halloween party. Gunner and I made a pact that we would try and palm The Temp off on other people that evening whenever we could but he frankly let down his part of the bargain monumentally. Aside from the odd thumbs up from across the room or when I dragged him over he did his best to steer clear of Temp and I was stuck with her for a large proportion of the evening. There were 2 occasions where I was Temp-free, one chatting to a new boy and the other chatting to the guy from the post room. Gunners excuse was that he’d ‘tried’ to come and rescue me a couple of times but I was talking to someone or he got pulled away. Whatever mate. To give her her due, Temp was quite entertaining after a few ciders and by the end of the evening had thrown herself into the swing of things whole heartedly, managing to tick off most of the office do’s and don’ts in one evening.

I wasn’t in on Friday but apparently she managed to sleep through her alarm, rock up at 11am, puking in the street into an M&S carrier bag on the way and then spend half the day in the loos repeating said gesture. Girl after my own heart. She also snogged someone (I’ve no idea who he is, from legal apparently) on the way out and I had to drag her out of the place and make sure she got into a cab to get home. She doesn’t remember me taking her to a cash point to get the taxi money and regrets the decision to buy a Subway en route to the taxi stop. To be honest I didn’t think she was that drunk, but maybe I was just comparing her to the skeleton passed out on the dance floor or dude in the Scream mask asleep at the bar.

It was optional fancy dress which meant about 10 out of 70 people dressed up, me included. Of course. I went as a stab victim, a t-shirt I’d made with knives going all the way through (not literally of course, it just gave the illusion – I’m dedicated to the cause of fancy dress but I wouldn’t go that far) plus some gory make up, a lot of blood etc. I got ready at work and then got the tube with Gunner and Temp getting some odd looks as they were dressed normally and we were chatting about The Inbetweeners without any reference to the fact I had been stabbed 3 times with massive carving knives. Either that or we were saying ‘clunge’ a bit too loud… The stab victim outfit went down a treat and I may even have won a prize had the skeleton (organiser) been sober enough to hand them out. I considered just nicking one off the side but thought better of it. What did worry me was how much people enjoyed grabbing hold of my protruding knives (easy) and pretending to stab me. Really relishing the idea of it in fact – screaming ‘die Nancy die!’ and everything. Whether it’s the idea that they like pretending to stab someone or if it was me they were stabbing specifically that bothers me the most I’m not so sure.

The drunk post room guy sent me a picture this morning which is also quite disturbing. It’s him and the Kiwi from Finance (“decking”) stabbing me (screaming ‘die Nancy die!’ I expect) but also some random’s hand coming up from the bottom of the picture and grabbing my chest…. Hmmm. We haven’t identified the hand yet and to be honest I don’t remember that being in the photo – I do have my eyes shut though. He’s also reminded me that he promised to record me the whole Leonard Cohen back catalogue. So I’m holding him to that.