You’re goin’ home…

Have I had a rant about the football yet? Don’t think so. Well here we go then…

We have had an email round at work from the head honcho’s PA saying that “those interested can take some time out to watch the game.” By ‘game’ they of course mean the England v Slovenia (I just had to look up who they are playing – for those who are interested I also saw that South Africa are beating France 2-0 at half time, Saffa will be pleased) World Cup football match that’s being played tomorrow at 3pm. Personally I have tomorrow booked off work anyway as I’m off in the depths of a Berkshire forest and no where near a TV but if I wasn’t do you think they would let me leave just before 3pm to sod off and do something else?

“You coming to watch the football Nancy?”

“No I’m going home to watch the tennis.”

“Oh well, I’m not sure you can leave early if you’re going to watch the tennis….”

I’m not a total grouch, I get that this only happens once every 4 years and that the country for some reason gets all patriotic for about 3 weeks (well that seems to be the average time England spend in the World Cup), waving flags, piling out of pubs shouting “come on England!” and “Roooooooney!” – It’s so heart-warming it brings a tear to my eye. But why does it warrant an afternoon off of work? Now you know me, I’m always up for any time spent away from the office but why football? How come no one has emailed round saying we can have some time off when Murray is playing at Wimbledon? I never saw anyone asking to be excused to watch the rugby World Cup either and surely we have a better chance of winning that?!

What about the other half of the population that doesn’t want to go down a pub and be rammed into a corner by sweaty bodies, spilling beer on your head and chanting incomprehensible shat about Posh and Becks and all you can see is the back of the person in front of you head? Perhaps catching a glimpse of a tackle (easy) or throw in on the plasma screen the other end of the room. Sounds wonderful, count me in and why don’t you chuck in a fight at the end of it all when we lose and people can’t live with the fact the other team kicked more balls into the net than we did.

It’s just a game. * ducks to avoid swinging punches *

Gunner is of course wetting his pants over the World Cup in general and the game tomorrow. Even before the email he was planning on heading off to catch the game at home or down the local here. He’s been waiting for this email all week – “they’re not going to expect anyone to be here Wednesday afternoon are they?” Er well maybe seeing as it is a working day and er people have work to do? Christ, bet you thought you’d never hear me say that! It’s just the assumption that everyone will want to watch the game which annoys me. I find you get that with football fans, they can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t like football. Let me count the ways….

So I’ve of course been in on the email sent round by Gunner soon after the one from the head honcho asking if I’d be joining him down the pub tomorrow afternoon. I had to let him down gently.

“No, I’ve actually got the day off tomorrow”

“Oh good planning!”

“I’m not going to be anywhere near a TV though, I’ll be in a forest in Bracknell.”

Silence. Look of utter disbelief.

You’d think he’d have given up on me by now with my complete lack of interest. Maybe he sees me as a bit of a challenge. I tell you what, I’ll promise him that I will come and watch England play in this world cup if we reach the final. I should be on to a safe bet there! Now you watch that one backfire in my face.

Everybody conga, everybody conga….

I’m back from sunny Dorset, so glad I took off Friday as well or it would have been a right old bugger being in the office then. It’s bad enough today I tell you. I returned to find some freak has been using my computer and desk for the week and re-arranged all my stuff. Like my bowling trophy and ‘give blood’ teddy – weird. It also appears that Kirstie has put me down as a contact while she suns herself on a beach somewhere so I have emails about flights, meetings with Moonface – what is all of this? Delete, delete, delete…..

Back to reality with a bump then. However, there is always a silver lining isn’t there? You remember those secret snippets of information I gleamed from Swim? Well I can tell you about at least one of them; in fact I will delight and rejoice in telling you. I will rub my hands in glee and do a little jig.

What is it? Nancy tell us! Put us out of our misery!!

FB is out.

That’s right, she’s gawn, outta here, kaput, kicked off the team, let go, hasta la vista bitch face.

I learnt this piece of information in the cab on the way to Fawlty Towers:

Swim: “So what do you think about FB going then?”

Me and Ginger: “Er what now?”

Swim: “Don’t you know? Oh well you didn’t hear this from me then!”

Me: “So you mean she’s leaving?”

Swim: “Yeah kicked out, they’re not renewing her contract. I knew she didn’t want it to be common knowledge but assumed she’d tell her team.”

Me: “No she didn’t mention anything – I’m not surprised. Swim you have just made my day.”

Turns out Moon Monkey thinks she’s too much of a liability (FINALLY someone has seen through the bull shit and used their common sense) and told her to gerrout! Be gone foul creature! Mwahahahahaha! So no new contract for her and in fact she has gone already. Swim said she goes at the end of the month but is unlikely to be back in the office. No sign of her today so I think she might be right!

One word – karma.

I think I might organise some leaving drinks for FB. I won’t invite her of course but it will give everyone else a chance to celebrate.

Listen to me carefully, I shall only say this once

I am drunk and therefore this shall be short.

A good day was had by all, even the whingers. Here follows a short synopsis of events:

I slept well, even bereft of my Primarni pyjamas, the bed was good, pillows firm and duvet soft.

When showering I noticed a distinct lack of green slime in the base of my shower and also discovered a ‘steam room’ option which I then accidentally left on and managed to steam out my entire bathroom. Still I was impressed.

Breakfast, whilst a rushed affair (Richard A was waiting outside, tapping his toe by the raptor-mobile) was delish. We all dined thoroughly.

The morning course was good but quite confusing as I find my brain is not one for science, 3D graphs or numbers. But I enjoyed the colouring in.

Swim whined a lot throughout the morning due to tiredness (even thought she slept well), headaches and the fact that “I don’t get any of this” – maybe listen for once instead of texting your boyfriend and you might.

Lunch was again 2 rounds of sandwiches, mainly cheese based but was enjoyed walking through the forest at the base of a Normandy castle (or some era like that – history innit).

A goat threw a rock at me. No really, it did.

The afternoon was spent on beaches and cliff tops in the glorious sunshine looking at various things and stamping on the sand to make it smell like eggy farts.

I found a fossil. It’s well old innit.

In the afternoon Swim didn’t moan so much and in fact almost allowed herself to start enjoying it. Almost.

This evening we have been to a local Italian restaurant with the whole class, paid for by the tutor. Bring on the wine. The food was good but it was no Michelin star dining experience so we did miss our Restaurant With Rooms somewhat but beggars can’t be choosers.

I had a banana split. It was very retro.

I discovered some very top secret information about the company and HR that I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy, have to kill you if I told you an all that.

Very amusing cab journey on the way home with Kenneth doing some animal impressions (he does an excellent monkey).

Our Restaurant with Rooms seems to be overtaken by drunken Ascot Races people; they’re just kicking out now. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!

Tomorrow is the last day of the course and there is talk of a presentation. I’m concerned, we’re all concerned. We may have to actually remember things we were told between the meals and walks on the beach...

This may be my last communication with you until next week. I’ll try and write tomorrow but I can’t promise anything and wouldn’t like to in case I disappoint. So farewell from the Jurassic Coastline and I shall speak to you again when I am on concreted, polluted soil.

Roomy Restaurant

Well we’ve had quite a day, there’s been good and bad and dinosaur taxi’s everywhere.

I didn’t sleep that well but not as badly as the rest of the gang it seems. Poor Kenneth was up at 2.30am trying to buy a bottle of water at the bar and looked very bleary eyed in the cab. My shower was as expected and it appears that the shower head had been discarded in the base because if you hung it up it leaked water quite noisily and ferociously. The ‘power shower’ was more like a dribble and I had to lift the shower door on to the base to try and shut it, which it didn’t. Breakfast arrived and was 2 pieces of cold toast, some marmalade, corn flakes and warm milk. Mmmmm, the breakfast of kings!

In the cab people were not happy and the bitch fest started. To be honest as much as I went on yesterday I think Fawlty Towers is pretty hilarious and apart from being a bit skanky, well I’ve stayed in worse that’s for sure. Not the most ideal place with it’s location, broken lift and breakfast that stars when we have to leave but there we go. However, the other 3 seemed outraged that the company would put us up in such a pit and that it would never have happened if we were even middle level management (they have a point there). I don’t think it helped matters that between us we’d probably had about 3-4 hours sleep either and with a pregnant lady in the car, well tensions were high.

To rub salt into the wounds when we rocked up at the spa hotel where the course is it was a lovely place, amazing grounds, nice foyer, tea, coffee and buns in the lounge area and not a drape in sight. Also we were told after arriving at 8.15am that the course started at 9am. Like the attachment had said and like I argued the toss about with Fuckwit. Score another one up to the HR retard.

Anyway accommodation aside the course is great, I’m really enjoying it and the tutor is wicked. We spent all afternoon and early evening walking along the coast line here and on beaches and up hills – I’m in my element. Plus the weather is cracking (t-shirt tan is developing) so it was shorts all round. However, my concentration was hampered by Swim and her continuous complaints about Fawlty Towers and then the walking and then the lunch and then everything else. I know she’s preggers and hasn’t slept or eaten properly but FFS cheer up luv! Ginger and Kenneth were egging her on somewhat as well and at one point sitting on a cliff I heard one of the other people on the course say “I only got half of what he (the tutor) was saying as I was listening to a conversation over there about a hotel....” I think we may be starting to piss people off here, let’s give it a rest eh?

But no, Swim is still on the case and texting everyone she knows in HR about it. So we get a call from Fuckwit while we’re in the mini bus. Swim lays it on thick and plays the pregnancy card and it works and we’re booked into another place for that evening. A ‘Restaurant with Rooms’, ok sounds a bit different, at least we know we’ll be fed, whatever, I am beyond caring now I’ll go with the majority.

After we arrive back at the spa our cab (this is the dinosaur link, they are ‘Jurassic Cabs’ and have the Jurassic Park logo on the side with ‘cabs’ instead of ‘park’ – stupendous, I love it) takes us back to Le Shitole and we pack up and book out in 5 minutes flat (I hate being rushed), back in the cab and off to the next place. It’s 45 minutes away in Poole, can we get any further from this course venue? Maybe just drop me in London and I’ll commute in every morning?! We rock up at 8pm and it’s like someone’s house in the middle of nowhere. No where. Looks ok, nice grounds, big gravel drive way.

We’re welcomed very warmly and our bags are taken to our rooms on the 1st floor and we’re personally shown our rooms. Well. Let’s just say that currently I am sat in bed in my complimentary robe on the free Wi Fi after having eaten the most amazing 5 course meal (2 Michelin stars), showered in my walk in, massive shower and watched a bit of my wide screen TV.

Check it: www.lesbouviers.co.uk

I think that probably says it all.

Ironically Fuckwit will have now had to of forked out twice as much on these rooms after paying for the other rooms anyway and she could have just put us up in the decent hotel she had lined up originally before Basil and Sybil popped up on her Google search. She’s going to be in so much trouble.

So now the moaning and whinging has ceased. I’m hoping tomorrow will be slightly less stressful and our fellow course members will want to sit next to us at lunch and not be in fear of being bored with the ‘crap accommodation’ conversation again.

Although I will have one little moan. In my rush to pack and get back down to Richard Attenborough and his people carrier I forgot my pyjama’s which must have been neatly stashed away under my pillows or duvet when my bed was made. Or maybe they stole them out of spite. I’ll try claiming them back on expenses if I can find the Primark receipt from 2 years ago....

Time Warp

Help me, I seem to have slipped into a time warp and travelled back to the 70’s. I’ve also somehow managed to walk into Fawlty Towers – no joke – Manuel took my bags up to my room, Basil is manning reception and Sybil served me my dinner. Welcome to The Grand Hotel in Swanage.

So it all seemed to start off well, our cabbie Gary picked us up at 3pm at work assuring us he could get us to the hotel in 2 ½ hours. There was me, Ginger, the chick from HR (not Fuckwit) who’s expecting (a baby) who actually already has a nick name “Swim” so I’ll stick to that and a guy from Finance whom none of us knew but seems like a sound guy. He’s a Saffa but he’s camp as Christmas with a wicked sense of humour so I’ll call him Kenneth.

I fell asleep for most of the journey and none of us really perked up until the cabbie started to get lost around Poole. He was relying on the sat nav which seemed to be taking him anywhere but the place he wanted to go (at one point we turned into a pub car park and not the motorway – I mean I haven’t done ‘The Knowledge’ but even I know the difference between the M3 and a Harvester) and eventually rocked up at a ferry port. After enquiring from a guy in the queue we discovered that you could get to Swanage across the water so Gary took a chance and we hopped on board. Then followed a 10 minute journey through noman’s land with Gary joking that every shack we passed was our hotel and Swim asking if we were in Wales (she got a bit confused and thought we were going to Swansea....)

Finally we pull up at The Grand. Hmmmm, maybe back in 1968 it would be classed as that but nowadays I think it’s somewhat lacking in living up to its name. The sign outside boasts 3 stars no less, again, not sure when that was awarded. Gary found this all rather hilarious and was still laughing as he got back in his cab to start his journey back to civilisation. He’s meant to be picking us up on Thursday as well but he may still be driving round the countryside trying to find the ferry port at that point.

At check in we discover we are all on the 3rd (top floor) and that the lift is broken. Joy. Also breakfast is served at 8am – the time when we are meant to be collected by our cab to take us to the venue for the course. Great. Oh but we can request a continental breakfast in our rooms before then – toast and cereal for me then. Fuck that, I want my full English, even if it does make me feel queasy at 7.30am. Manuel helps us to our rooms as we make our way up the grand staircase with drapes and some amazing art work on the walls. We’re trying not to laugh too much at the whicker chairs on the stairwells and the creaking floor boards. I hope my room has a sea view....

I enter my room which smells....old. You know, musty, mouldy, damp, like death. I am thrown back to the hotel rooms we stayed in in Wollocombe Bay when I was 8 and nothing has changed. I have taken some photo’s on my phone and will try my hardest to get them on to my computer but can’t promise anything. For now you’ll have to do with a detailed description:
As you come in the room to the right is my dressing table with the most retro hair dryer I have ever seen. Kenneth thought it was a lamp. I also have the standard tea tray with coffee etc on it and a box of tissues. To the left is a very nice green chair with coverings on it like the ones you get at weddings. I have a wardrobe and what appears to be a Hobbit’s wardrobe as well. The bed seems ok but I threw the scatter cushions on the floor, worried what stains and bed bugs might be festering in them. On the bed side table is a lovely, tobacco stained radio alarm clock and some wonderful matching furniture.

The bathroom has a slanting ceiling (as we are living in the roof) which I keep banging my head on. My shower is the highlight of the room – green on the base with the shower head thrown nonchalantly onto the floor. I’m scared to get into the shower, I think I might come out dirtier than when I got in. I don’t even want to put my shampoo bottle in there.

About 5 minutes later Ginger is knocking on my door, she’s not happy. Whilst she doesn’t have a green shower her toilet doesn’t appear to flush and she is worried she might catch something nasty from walking around barefoot in her room. I am hysterically laughing at this point – well if you don’t laugh?

Fuck unpacking, I’m not hanging anything in that Hobbit cupboard so we hot foot it down to the bar where the lady serving seems confused over everything she is asked for. The guy before me asks for a Fosters top and she starts pouring out a bitter which he has to point out she is doing. I order Ginger a vodka and diet coke and she starts opening a bottle of tonic water...

On the plus side the view from the ‘conservatory’ is lovely, an amazing beach and seafront but it is pissing it with rain. Another thing is that this place is the most boiling hot place I have ever stayed. They seem to have the heating up full for the middle of June. I had to open all the windows in my room just so I could breathe and have been walking round in a t-shirt all evening.
Dinner was actually really good and we all took advantage and had the 3 courses. Also, the drinkers had a glass of wine with the meal which they asked if we wanted ‘put on our room tab’ – er ok. At the end of the meal I questioned reception and discovered work had paid for the meal but no drinks with it. Soon put a fucking fix to that, Swim will be on the case in the morning to Fuckwit to warn her she will be paying for our meal drinks minimum. Otherwise I am kicking off again, she has us in this hole the least she can do is shout me a glass of wine with my steak (oh yes I am ordering all of the most expensive meals).

Swim and Ginger went to bed at 9.30pm and me and Kenneth had another drink in the bar and he went off at 10pm. Part-ay. At the moment I am sat here making the most of the free Wi-Fi (only available in the ‘lounge’ (literally, I tried it in the next room 3 foot away and it didn’t work) with “Sealed With a Kiss” playing drearily in the background. All the OAPs have finished watching the football and gone to bed and I am alone apart from a group of suits having a business meeting and a Spanish family.

I should go to bed as my ‘continental’ breakfast is being brought to my room at 7.30am but I don’t want to go back up there. Don’t make me. I’m sure someone probably died in my bed at some point and from the look of it something is living in my shower.
I’ll report back tomorrow on Day 2 if I haven’t been murdered in my sleep or knocked myself out on the ceiling in my bathroom.

Lune de la Singe

Just found out that Moon Monkey is taking French lessons!

Pause for hysterical laughter and clutching of ribs and hyperventilating……oohh….oohhhh….it hurts….

A lady in casual wear was shown into one of the meeting rooms by Lune de la Singe (apologies in advance for my butchering of the language of lurve) and so I asked Kirstie who she was. After a quick check of his diary and a jogging of her brain she realised this was in fact his French teacher!

Once again pause for hysterical laughter and clutching of ribs and hyperventilating……oohh….oohhhh….it still hurts….

Oh to be a fly on the wall in that classroom! I can barely understand him in English half the time because he mumbles so much and that thick Irish accent so we can but only imagine what he is sounding like in French! I long to secretly place a dictaphone in the room with them and record his struggled attempts at verbs, simple greetings and asking the way to the library (why was that always such an important key phrase to learn?). As he is scolded by his teacher for his mispronunciation and his frustration at his 27th attempt to tell us how his name is Moon Monkey and he has a pet rabbit called Gerald.

We assume he is learning la French because of the many business trips to said country and others that have this as their native tongue. When I mentioned it to my friend she offered up the idea he might want to have some private conversations with FB. That for some reason had never crossed my mind – probably because I subconsciously block her out. It’s a possibility though, she has been very chatty with him today (in fact she has barely shut up, it’s like she’s swallowed a tape recorder or something – “oh la la!”) and flirting and bum sucking outrageously. It’s a horrific sight to behold and I have been close at certain points in the day to walking over, slapping her and screaming “HAVE YOU NO SHAME YOU HIDEOUS PIXIE TROLL DEMON WOMAN?!” Luckily she predictably snuck out as soon as Moon Monkey had headed off to the airport so the afternoon has been a lot more peaceful.

I have a feeling that if MM does intend to use French to woo FB then he might fail terribly in his quest.

“Er, vou….vou….voulezz vous coucheeeerrrr av….av…ave…..er with moi to be sure?”

No doubt she pretend he had conquered her native tongue (ew I just read that back, it sounds very wrong), that his dulcet tones were comparable to Gerard Depardieu and jump into the sack with him anyway.

“No, no Lune de la Singe, do not speak, just…take me!!”

Barf. You guys have the luck of not knowing what either of these people look like and so can not begin to imagine the rank scene playing out in my head. MAKE IT STOP! Shudder.

Funnily enough after the lesson I asked him to sign something for me and totally unintentionally said “merci!” when he did it. He mumbled a badly pronounced “beaucoup” with no attempt at a French accent and said “see I am learning!” Bless. I just nodded sympathetically and walked away.

Au revoir!

Grump

Moody City here today, including yours truly. Maybe it’s catching as I actually walked into the office in quite a good mood this morning? Kirstie is being a right old whinger and keeps getting me to smack her with a wooden spoon every time she does (don’t ask). She’s very busy but we all know this and it’s starting to hack me off every time she opens her mouth to complain about someone or stress about something. I think she might even be sighing louder than CJ.

CJ is off this week so it could be the lack of her whinging means everyone feels they have to up the anti to compensate for the lack of negativity in the room. Gunner and Ginger have been ranting all day about this new system the big wigs are installing and how they want them to transfer over 1000’s of lines of information from the old system. Gunner can be quite ‘old school’ for a young(er) guy in the office, one of those people who fears change, so any talk of the system and it’s all moan, moan, “it won’t work” etc etc. Yes it’s shit but just shut up and get on with it because the moaning is only going to lengthen the process and make it all the more painful. But they don’t, they hope it will all go away and be forgotten about – which I know from experience never happens.

I feel for them as I have been on data entry duty today. Another factor for my mood I think, data entry tends to suck the life and soul from me and leave me bereft of caring. Today so much in fact that I have been deleting emails from companies who haven’t given me enough information for the database. “No address? No website? Fuck off then!” I can’t bring the enthusiasm to pen an email asking for this information and they look like some dodgy company run off the back of a wagon so sod it. Makes my job a whole lot quicker. It’s partly my fault as I have let the emails build up from about 4 weeks ago and just ignored them. So when I logged in today there was 50 plus to go through. Oh how my heart sank. I have been busy though rather than procrastinating as usual.

I think the break er, I mean training in Dorset next week will be a nice break from the norm. Hell I’d rather sit in a cab for the entire duration of the course rather than sit here typing names and addresses I can’t find into little boxes. Getting some fresh air (undoubtedly in the torrential rain) along the coast line on field trips and seeing the sights of Swanage with the odd cream tea and deck chair thrown in. Hopefully I won’t need my wooden spoon. I shall return refreshed and raring to go! Full of industry knowledge! Bring on the data!

I think I might be slightly delirious, I can see spreadsheets swimming in front of my eyes and phrases such as “Dear Sirs and Madams” and “I am hoping you are good health and life!” going round in my head. Time for a jaffa cake.

Piss up in a brewery? She’d have trouble planning one

Busy few days at the office darling, sorry I haven’t been home for dinner or in time to tuck the kids up in bed – you know how it is. I’m here now though, that’s the important thing.

Bit of a trauma over this residential course I’m going to next week. Yes, next week, it’s snuck up on us hasn’t it? After all of the originally hoo ha over who was going when and we thankfully got rid of CJ (she’s on annual leave this week painting her fence or some other such enthralling activity) I thought it was sorted but it turns out I was very wrong. I shall enlighten you the events of the past 24 hours….

Last week I emailed the girl in HR organising the course for us plebs to attend, I’ll call her Fuckwit (oh how amusing, the word fuckwit doesn’t appear to get spell-checked, anyway I digress…) because that will give you a good idea of her working skills, brain capacity and general personality. I did a first aid course with her earlier this year and let’s just say she doesn’t catch on quickly and I hope I’m never the victim of a work-based accident when she’s around. The girl’s qualified to operate a defibulator for Christ’s sakes! Scary. Fuckwit was asked to put me and Ginger on this course in Dorset back in April. We never got a confirmation for this but she did email me telling me to ‘pencil it in my diary’. Seeing as it wasn’t a booking for a holiday to the Maldives or tickets for Reading Festival I didn’t bother to check any further – no skin off my nose if I don’t go. Ginger and I hear nothing further from Fuckwit or anyone in HR so last week this email I sent was asking her for an itinerary and travel information. Things we probably should have received a while back.

So I wait and Ginger waits and we hear nothing. I try calling Fuckwit but no answer, Ginger sends her an email and still nothing. Ginger emails AGAIN and still nothing and she’s not responding to calls. Yesterday I say to Ginger I’ll give Fuckwit until Thursday and then I’m kicking off. In the afternoon an email arrives:

Dear all

You are now registered to attend the above course, on the 15-17 June. The course starts at 8:30am in Dorset on Tuesday 15th, so I’d recommend travelling down the day before – in the past; attendees have left the office for 3pm, aiming to get to the hotel for dinner.

(Damn, there go my plans for Monday night – thanks for the heads up Fuckwit)

I’ve booked you accommodation at a nearby hotel, but please note that the course will be held at a different venue.

(Er, I’m sorry? Why aren’t we staying at the hotel it’s being held in? WTF?)

Please note that accommodation has been booked for you for three nights, checking in on Monday 14th June, and checking out on Thursday 17th June - we've pre-paid for dinner B&B, but you will need to pay for extra’s (drinks at the bar, newspapers, etc).

(Hotel priced drinks out of my own pocket? Well there goes the piss up unless there’s a Morrisons near by….)

I doubt the hotel will have a cash point nearby,

(or any form of civilisation?)

so if you need cash for any reason, please take some with you.

Taxi’s
The nearest rail station to both venues is Wareham Rail. There isn’t a taxi rank when you arrive at the station, so please pre-book taxi’s using the number on the attachment.

(Is that not your job Fuckwit? Hang on, rail station? So you want me to book a train ticket down there now as well? What happened to the cabs we were promised?)

I’ve booked cabs to transport you between the hotel and training venue, on these dates and times (the driver will wait for you just by reception):

· Tuesday – 8am pick up at the Hotel to Training Venue, 6:45pm pick up at the Training Venue to the Hotel
· Wednesday - 8am pick up at the Hotel to Training Venue, 6pm pick up at the Training Venue to the Hotel
· Thursday - 8am pick up at the Hotel to Training Venue, 3pm pick up at the Training Venue to Wareham Rail

(8am cabs?! How far away is this hotel from the training venue? Are we staying in London?!)

Joining Instructions
The course provider has sent through the attached joining instructions. Given the daily field trips, I wanted to highlight that the dress code is definitely casual. Please read the joining instructions!

(Which she clearly didn’t as they contradict everything in this email)

Any questions let me know. I’m passing on my personal mobile number – just in case you need to get hold of me.

(Or maybe send threatening text messages?)

Thanks, and have fun.

Fuckwit


Right then, lets regroup here. We’re staying a different hotel, where’s that then? Oh look it’s in Swanage 11 miles away. And why are we staying in a hotel 11 miles away when the course provider has very kindly given the names and numbers of many hotels within a 2 mile radius of the training venue? Because apparently Fuckwit forgot all about this course until my email arrived in her inbox last week and has been flying around trying to book accommodation because the training venue and all those other hotels are booked up (I have an inside contact in HR who is also coming to Dorset). Great, slow hand clap for her then.

In the attachment from the course provider they also mention a meal for all the delegates on the Wednesday night yet Fuckwit has us being ferried back to Swanage a 6pm. We’re not allowed to go then are we? And why does this attachment say we start at 9am not 8.30am? And finish at 4pm on Thursday and not 3pm? Time for an email again….

Now all of this I can kind of deal with, it’s not the end of the world after all. It’s annoying and unorganised and knowing that it’s only because Fuckwit wasn’t doing her job irritates the shit out of me but there we are, at least we’re in a nice hotel on the beach (although it does look as though the rest of the guests staying there will be 65+ and having cream teas on deckchairs). But what I am really not happy about is having to book a train ticket less than a week before we go. After a quick search on the web I discover this will set me back £100+ Money I would eventually get back on expenses but money I don’t have in my pocket to fork out in the first place. I am now ranting at Ginger about this who agrees whole heartedly having just bought a house that it’s cash she doesn’t have.

Luckily Kirstie overhears all this and asks if I want her to find out how much a cab is. Sure, why not? There are 4 of us going so as long as it’s close to £400 return then it’s still ok right? She comes back to me with a quote of £275 each way, shit. But Kirstie isn’t done so she has the receptionist put it to the head of facilities. Meanwhile I’m emailing my inside contact in HR and she responds with “ooh the head of facilities has just dragged Fuckwit into a meeting room”.

10 minutes later we get this email:

Hi all – apologies for all the emails.

I’ve now booked a car for you for the journey to and from Dorset which will collect you from in front of the office at 3pm on Monday and drop you back here on Thursday after the course is finished.

This car has been pre-paid for the journey.

Thanks

Fuckwit


Seems like Kirstie’s cab enquiry has got back to the big bosses and they have asked Fuckwit why travel hasn’t been arranged in advance. In other words she’s got a bollocking and had to arrange a return cab journey for us 4 for £550 – ouch! Too feckin’ right, dopey cow – what did she expect?

I plan to get down there, find out the actual times for the course, where this evening meal is being held and re-arrange all the cab bookings to suit. I’m also going to take full advantage of the free health club and gym in our hotel and drink as much free wine as is possible during the evening meals (and breakfast if it’s on offer). I also plan to take my laptop (wi-fi available for a modest charge according to the website) so I shall try to keep you updated on the days events and our various cab journeys, pending my alcoholic state each evening.

What’s the betting we turn up Monday night, aren’t booked in at the hotel and have to sleep on the beach?

I wish I could turn back time….

The stalking has come to an end (hopefully) and I must say I’m quite glad. As hilarious as Chan’s messages have been I am starting to get concerned at his psycho comments and perseverance. Some people have offered to ‘sort him out’ for me which I think is a little unnecessary but I’m holding that in reserve just in case he goes all single, Asian male on me.

The parting message was sent to me last night titled: “I should have come to my senses a long time ago.” Do read on and please check out the link to the song he has posted, it will be worth your while, but possibly not 8 minutes of your life (so I’m told)….


This song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BioGt4BY-fI&feature=related can express some of the things I wanted to say. However, it is a rather sad song and it might upset you. Beg a pardon for giving you nothing but trouble. Now, I just want to go get a job and get a life.

& Thanks, for you have been kind to me in some ways :) so wish you well.

Chan


Unfortunately at work I have no sound from my computer (the fascists have disabled it) and so can’t listen to this ‘upsetting tune’. I forwarded it to a friend who emailed me back saying “Do you know when you blow a funny fuse? When something is so funny, that you can’t laugh? That is what has just happened to me.” So now I am DESPERATE to hear this song!! I shall be firing up the lap top when I get home and tuning in that’s for sure. Apparently it sounds like someone has written and recorded it in their bedroom and is very, very bad. Some woman singing to the same tune repeated over and over again. The same mate has kindly typed out some of the lyrics from the first verse for me to give me a flavour of the serious stalkiness of this tune:

I let you down…
Been a fool to myself….
Through the hurt and pain …
Time for me to respect the ones you love more than anything…
Best thing I could do was end it all and leave foooorrreeeeeevvver
I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN, my love is ending
I wish I could turn back time….

Jesus, I think maybe I do have something to worry about! “My love is ending?”, “I wish I could turn back time?” – maybe I should be watching my back….

In a kind of flip sided way I have actually been dumped by my stalker. How sad is that? I didn’t even get to tell him to get lost, he’s given me the boot and moved on to a new obsession. I feel kind of hard done by, dumped by a FB message. Sigh.

Different types of pains in my arse

I ache today. I think it is the culmination of a lot of exercise over the past 3 days, including 2 games of netball yesterday. Ouch. Saffa is walking round like a cowboy as well and blaming the netball, although she did mention it could be something else….. Well she made Kirstie blush which is quite an achievement!

No Moon Monkey on the bench as yet, I can’t see that ever happening to be honest. Shame as I think it would be feckin’ hi-larious to see him bouncing about the court and getting the whistle blown at him every 10 seconds.

Not much else going on in the office currently, my new desk means I am far, far away from old CJ (she came round to see me yesterday asking if I was missing my old desk to which I said a resounding “no”) and so my stress levels have lifted somewhat, hence the lack of ranting recently. I know, I know you miss the ranting! Don’t worry I’m sure something new to rant about will pop up soon. Sitting next to Kirstie is quite comedy as she tends to sing random songs, make funny comments and gladly distract me from my work on a regular basis. She’s enjoying the saga of my Face Book stalker too (he asked me to go see Toy Story 3 with him today) but feels a bit sorry for poor Mr Chan. After she has stopped laughing at his messages that is.

FB seems to have disappeared this week. We’re not sure where to. It could be that last week was her week of trying to impress by turning up for work before 10am and sitting at her desk diligently (checking her emails and FB all day if what Kirstie saw when she walked past is anything to go by) and now this week she has fallen back into her usual routine of ‘working from home’. An odd thing happened when Kirstie went to talk to Moon Monkey about the office move we are having at Christmas (we’re moving buildings again – next door) and asked if she could sit closer to him in the new building to save her walking across the office every 3 minutes. He said “you can sit there” and gestured to FB’s desk so Kirstie said “but that’s FB’s desk” and he shrugged.

So now we’re wondering if this means a) she’s not coming back to use her desk, b) MM hates her that much that he would like to see her things moved without her knowing about it and Kirstie parked in there instead or c) he’s just a management retard who has no idea about office politics and that it might be deemed as ‘rude’ to just uproot a colleague because you like their chair and position by the window. I’m hoping for a, would love for b to happen just to see the look on FB’s face but am expecting c.

If she’s not coming back I’m sure this won’t be announced to the rest of us plebs for a good few weeks yet. Maybe I passing as an AOB point in next months team meeting. I would have loved the opportunity to say goodbye to her, give her a card, a gift, a hug, a smack in the face. She probably just sidled off because she knew no one would go to her leaving party. Ahhh, well I can carry on fantasising, I expect she will walk in the door any minute now.

Chan is back

I have received another Face Ache message from the ever attentive Mr Chan:


Watched a TV program called "The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister" with my sis (I am da young brother). Lots of things in my mind.

Wanted to be true to my feelings but got selfish. Yet I guess I am hoping for a second chance.

Chan


Now this made no sense whatsoever to me initially but then a friend emailed me a link to the TV program he mentions (purely coincidentally) and then some of it started to make sense, but not really. If you’re not in the know about Miss Anne Lister then Google her and you’ll find the BBC have just done a TV drama about her. Big old lesbian. In a nutshell.

So does he think I am a lesbian now or is he hoping I am so he can get together with me and my lady lover? Ew. Scrap that last thought. What was on his mind and why is it important I know that he was watching it with his sister? Double ew. This gets more creepy.

And what’s going on with that last sentence? “Wanted to be true to my feelings but got selfish.” Is he speaking in some kind of coded romantic lingo I’m not aware of? Anyone out there speak loved up geek?

As for hoping for a 2nd chance, when was his first chance? This guy is not taking the old “ignoring you for a reason” hint is he? Well this may mean I get some regular messages to keep me chuckling and then when he gets annoying there’s the good old block button which I do plan to use at some stage.

Although I’m not exactly batting them away with a stick at the moment, maybe I should keep my options open……?

“Give me an N!”

Tomorrow is the 2nd game of the season for the netball team here. Myself and Curly have discovered that it actually does take up quite a lot of your time captaining and managing a netball team, especially one that seems to have grown to 24 players. We have some keen people in the office this year and it seems everyone wants in on the action.

Normally I wouldn’t mind all the distraction, something to do, something to get my teeth into but I’m so busy with the day to day stuff it’s starting to get in the way of everything else. What’s that all about?! I mean yes it keeps me occupied and the day whizzes by and I’m at least using some of my brain cells again but then it’s also interfering with other activities such as my personal emails, checking of the book of face (I haven’t even been on the site today yet!), the all important writing of the blog, organising my social life and now the netball team to boot. This just won’t do, I’m going to have to start prioritising my workload as follows:

1) Emails to friends/family/non work-related matters
2) Blog writing
3) Planning my weekend
4) Checking Face Book at hourly intervals
5) Drinking tea
6) Netball
7) Actual work

At the moment 7 seems to have bumped itself up to 1 and 6 to 2. How many emails do you need to send about a netball game?! Many apparently. Curly also got quite excited about the new team t-shirts which we ended up designing a logo for and have arrived today; in fact she is really getting into it whereas I am starting to wish I had just agreed to play. See this is why I wouldn’t ever go for management, I seem to naturally shy away from responsibility and positions of power. I don’t think it’s genetic so maybe I am just lazy or too laid back for my own good? Probably. I’ll be the first to admit it. Curly’s all up for organising Monday night training now and that means staying late after work and putting together training sessions. Neither of us has put together or taken a training session in our lives! We reckon we can find most of it on the interweb anyway and I said to her I only foresee a handful of people rocking up to training anyway. Although one guy on the team has bought his own netball net! They’ll be expecting us to win games next!

It’s all very worrying, before you know it I’ll be up for employee of the month or something equally shocking.

Any hints or tips on running a netball team would be very welcome. Any hints and tips on how to get our of running a netball team even more so.

Regret of a Lifetime

A slight detour from working in this nut house today as a blast from the past has popped up on Face Barf. Before I sold my soul to the corporate devil to work with Lord Crazy and his band of geeks I actually had a career in the education sector and almost 60% of the time enjoyed turning up for work. I know, hard to believe isn’t it?

I was working in a university which of course meant I was working with students. Young, fresh faced pimples of our future, the back bone of our society to be, the Prime Ministers and Bank Managers of tomorrow…..well lets not get too carried away, I’m sure some of them ended up working in a bank anyway. My role was to help these kids get jobs (I know, someone like me giving out careers advice – ironic doesn’t begin to cover it) so I had to meet with them in a one to one situation, do CV’s, interview skills, the usual. Most of them were very nice, polite and said thank you, some were rude, obnoxious and shocked they wouldn’t be earning £50k on a graduate starting salary and some were just a bit odd.

One of these students, Chan, was a regular customer as whilst being an IT geek genius he struggled somewhat with writing and spelling and the English language in general. This was a common problem amongst my students; you’d be shocked to learn how many would put the word ‘innit’ into an essay…. So Chan would come back again and again trying to perfect a CV or an application form and time and time again he would fail to get a job. Good on paper, not so good in an interview.

After a few weeks he started to bring things to the sessions with him, offer me a chewing gum or sweet to start with, then bring a box of biscuits, that kind of thing. This wasn’t unusual as normally students would bring in chocolates and things as a thank you for the help we gave them so I didn’t really think anything of it. Then one week he bought me some chocolates, a random lolly pop and some other food stuffs. This seemed to be getting slightly excessive. Then came the flower. Now we were falling into creepy-ville.

In one session Chan said “can I ask you something Nancy?” “Of course” says me, thinking it would be career related. “Would you like to go out with me?” Shit, not what I was expecting. “Er how do you mean?” – “Like on a date” Oh arse biscuits. I had to tell the guy very nicely that even though it was flattering I was actually in a relationship, that he was probably a wee bit young for me and that there was definitely a policy against university staff dating students.

“Oh. OK.”

Phew, got out of that one.

“Are you sure?”

Got to admire the little man’s determination. Yes I was sure and no it wouldn’t happen.

After this I lay off the meetings and would only see him when I thought it was absolutely necessary. He seemed to settle back down to normal and all was forgotten until a few months later….

“Nancy, you know I asked you out that time? Well would you reconsider?”

“No Chan, I told you before it’s not going to happen.”

“Not even dinner or the cinema?”

“No.”

So I had to stop the meetings with Chan, avoid seeing him at the student desk, ask a colleague to take over seeing him and then I left the uni to pursue other interests. Bye bye Chan, nice knowing you, good luck with the love life.

On a regular basis this guy still tries to hunt me down in Face Book, I get regular friend requests which I just ignore. I know I could block him but I think that would be mean and I was hoping that after a few years he would just get the hint. But no, I think I may have a stalker on my hands as today I received this message:

“Felt like a regret of a life time when some two years ago I have a slightly better chance than now. I still wanted a date with you, beautiful Miss Clueless. Like having lunch or dinner, going to a movie together (honestly, I like outdoor activities, feel free to contribute your idea if you are interested) if I could ever had that chance (to appreciate you and listen to what you think).

P.S. Exams will be finish by the end of next week; I hope I can get ahead of the queue of people who would also like to date you this summer.

Chan”

I would like to know where this queue of people waiting to date me is? Can someone point me in the direction of them?!

Seriously though I am starting to worry, this is now getting creepy. It’s been 2 years, get over it! My constant rejection of you and then ignoring you for several years should be a big enough hint that it’s never going to happen! I suppose this is the danger one faces when working with young impressionable students and I of course can’t be held responsible for being ‘beautiful Miss Clueless’ can I? I’m glad nothing like that has happened in this place. I think I would run screaming from the building.

Maybe I should block Chan now on FB? Maybe then he’d get the hint? Although that would mean not being able to receive any of these hilarious messages – oh come on it is hilarious admit it!!

Right I’m off to find that queue…..

Hand me my baseball bat

FB is back. She’s been back all week but what with Geek Pride Day yesterday I didn’t want to drag a dark cloud over the celebrations. She marched into the office on Monday morning (yes morning! She is capable of getting in before 1pm, who’d have known?!) with her usual “hello I’m back!” in that Pepe le Pew accent to which she gathered very little response. I think Andre said hello rather brightly but then she is nice to everyone. All the people along my row looked at each other with grimaces and raised eyebrows and then there was a bit of 2 finger saluting behind the dividers. I’m sure FB was bitterly disappointed by the lack of impact she had.

As I am now sitting away from most of the nutters she’s not been grating on me as much because I’m a bit more out of ear shot of her “oh la la’s” and excessively loud yawning. There has been the odd exclamation that manages to travel across the office floor though so I don’t think I have escaped completely. On Monday I got stuck in a lift with her which was bloody awful. I was with Curly on our way to the netball meeting and FB got in with some other chick from our office. Curly asked how long she had been back for etc and then FB started asking about the netball. I was stood in the corner avoiding having to have to actually communicate with the witch thinking “please don’t join the team, please don’t join the team”. Curly of course asked (the girl has manners) if FB and her friend were interested but luckily FB opted out. “Oh no, no, no, I don’t theeenk I would know ‘ow to play! Oh la la!” Thank sweet baby jesus for that. All the while I’m sure her mate was giving me evils, no doubt FB has been spreading noxious rumours about me, Gunner, Kirstie and Ginger who all can’t abide her either. Actually they wouldn’t be rumours, we do hate her and I think it’s fairly obvious so she will have cottoned on to that unless she is a complete retard (which is also possible).

So now she’s back for good it will be interesting to see how this all plays out in the department. I’m not sure if she has been introduced to CJ yet so I’m looking forward to what that brings about. Perhaps a battle of the whingers? CJ was telling the poor temp guy sat next to her this morning about her commute into work; I suppose she will have been gagging to tell someone about it for a while as everyone else in the office is sick to death of it. After 6 months you’d think you’d know to shut the hell up but apparently she still thinks its headline news. CJ and FB do seem to be already going for it on the ‘sauntering into work past 9.30am’ stakes but I think CJ is still winning in that category. We wondered if she’d make it in for the 10am team meeting this morning and she did, with 11 minutes to spare! Thankfully with less time to prepare she didn’t shoot her mouth off and keep us all in there longer than necessary.

FB will have now lost a lot of her power in the department what with her shag pal missing from the management team. I can’t see her winning over Moon Monkey with any sexual advances (excuse me……..ah that’s better the dry retching has stopped now) and Bog Monkey is never in the country. That just leaves Freaker, although I think he’s a bit too smart for that kind of thing and anyway he has his fancy woman in Dubai to consider. So with the sex card out the window hopefully FB is fucked (or not as the case may be) and we can watch as she slides into the background, unwanted, un-liked, uninteresting but possibly unpredictable.

Please allow me an evil chuckle at this point. Thank you.

Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Oh I enjoyed that.

Still, I am probably getting smug far too early on in the game and no doubt she will pull something out of her badly dressed sleeve at some stage that will shock and enrage us all. I would say that people would have to be holding me back as I brandish a baseball bat with nails in it but I think I’ll be fighting my way through the angry mob to get a shot at her. Form an orderly queue please.

Geek Alert!

Today is Geek Pride Day, to quote Wikipedia: “an initiative which claims the right of every person to be a nerd or a geek. It has been celebrated on May 25 since 2006, celebrating the premiere of the first Star Wars movie in 1977.”

I like to think that everyone has a little bit of geek in them (careful) and I myself have many self-proclaimed geek qualities. I like my sci-fi and fantasy, I’m a big Buffy fan which has on occasions begun to boarder on serious nerdy-ness (yes I have signed photos), I love bad horror and last summer attended Fright-Fest (geek-o-rama!), do tuck my jeans into my socks when I cycle and would definitely not claim to be the coolest cookie in the jar when it comes to clothing, dexterity and romancin’.

As you’ll have gathered by now I also work with some geeks and nerds, and I’m not just talking about the IT department. We have the geekiest of geeks in the form of Andre, Lord of the Geeks in fact. I’m surprised there isn’t a picture of her on that Wikipedia page. But apart from Andre I think this department is possibly the ‘geek’ of the company as well (even going up against Finance), we’re full of the nerds and rejects and no one really knows what to think of us. At company events people tend to shy away and we keep ourselves to ourselves. Because of the nature of our work we can irritate the shit out of people and I’m sure if there was some massive company game of rounder’s our department would be picked last, with sand kicked in our face just for good measure.

But in true geek tradition we carry on regardless, unashamedly holding our heads high with our NHS glasses and awkward glances. Geeks rule. If there were a nuclear fall out then only the geeks would survive (probably because they’d seen how to avoid a nuclear fall out in an episode of Stargate Atlantis) and then would be responsible for the survival of the human race. Just as if they got rid of us lot then this company would fall on its arse without any flanges or christmas trees being supplied. What would they do? Hire more geeks I expect. I never said we weren’t expendable.

So today I raise my coffee cup to geeks all over the world. Especially those who follow in Andre’s footsteps with their LOTR loving, Elf speaking, Medieval garb wearing, sumo wrestling watching, falconry flying, armor and weaponry collecting, convention attending, costume making, ancient recipe cooking ways. I bet she’s like the head vampire – you cut her head off and geeks all around the world would drop down dead. Let’s hope that never happens. I’ll tell her to be more careful with that crossbow….

Team Clueless

I probably haven’t mentioned it before but I play netball for my company team. Yes, Nancy has many strings to her bow and shooting hoops in the summer with my colleagues is but one of these. We have t-shirts printed up and everything.

Now before I get too carried away and have you thinking I’ll be signing up for Team GB in the 2012 Olympics let me just be clear that this is not a high performing, hard core netball league. We actually play 15 minute games every fortnight in the summer at work against other companies. But it’s a good laugh and it gets me out of the office and away from these oddballs every now and then, plus of course the exercise etc etc.

This year I’ve offered to be joint-captain of the team with another of the players – Curly. Curly is one of those people who is VERY serious when it comes to work and then when you meet her out of work is totally the opposite. Threw me a bit last year when I was very scared of her for the first few games and then realised actually she was a good laugh on the pitch and off. So, we’re heading up the team and the past few days have been trying to recruit for this year’s season.

An email went out yesterday asking people to contact us if they were interested. We got (surprisingly) a good response from f a mixed bag of people and I was making my way through the replies this morning while I was eating my Coco Pops. The usual suspects who played last year – nice to see them back again – a couple of new faces including some lads – always good to have some testosterone on the team – and then…..what’s this? * sprays chocolate milk over monitor * An email from the head of finance (who quite frankly has his head up his own arse most of the time) asking us to put him and…….Moon Monkey down for the team?!!?


………..

……………..

OK. So this is either one big piss take or something very strange is happening here. I march round to the girl who sent out the email for me via the company social committee (who is also on the team) and tell her the situation. “Really?! Er, do you think they are being serious?” Now we have to find some way of deciphering if they are taking the Michael or if they want to run around the court in tiny shorts (eugh the mental images….) So I drop MM an email asking him if he’s aware Head up own arse man has put him forward for netball. The reply is swift “Go for it! Include these guys as well!” and then proceeds to list off the rest of the department management team. Again I am mystified. So I email them…..yep seems they’re all wanting to have a piece of the action! Freaker is one of these managers (he of losing out to me at the bowling fame) so at least we’ll have that competitive edge.

So now I’m torn, what do I do with 2 burly, clumsy, left footed Irish guys, the most competitive man ever and someone who will have to take his head out his butt hole to see where the ball is coming from? Do I put them in and see what carnage occurs? Maybe I bench them and try to find some excuses for them not to play. We’re not going on skills sets here, hell I hadn’t picked up a netball in 15 years up until last May, but I do want to avoid red carding and public embarrassment. Equal opps an all though, I probably have to let them play.

To be honest they probably won’t be in the country for 99% of the games anyway and when they are here they are generally in meetings all day so the likelihood of them actually being able to play is slim. Also, I am quite liking the idea of being able to tell them what to do, especially Moon Monkey. Can you imagine it? “Monkey boy – hit the bench! You’re just not cutting out there!” Ah the power…..

At least we’re bound to draw a crowd. When word gets out that MM and Head up own arse man are playing people will come to support if only to gawk and point at the spectacle. Heck I might even bench myself just so I have a spectator’s view of MM sweating and panting around the court, his arms flailing helplessly as the ball rockets past and he’s pushed to the ground by an aggressive 5’ 2” woman from the office across the road. This is going to be a good season.

Stomped Feet, Folded Arms

Everyone is kicking off today.

CJ is throwing her toys out of the pram about a variety of things. Just now she was practically shouting at Harley because he wouldn’t sign something for her and telling her she has to get a ‘higher authority’ to do it (what like the pope or something?). “But whyyyyyyyy?!” Just shut the hell up and deal with it woman. In the middle of it all Gunner made a marvelous display of stirring the pot by standing up to announce across the partition that this named ‘higher authority’ wouldn’t be in the office until Monday – and then sat down again. “Whaaaaattt?!” shrieks CJ and at this point Harley walks off before he says something he’ll regret.

Kirstie and I are sat the other side of the partition rolling our eyes, making threatening gestures and ‘V’ signs in CJ’s direction. I am SO glad I don’t sit there any more.

Harley was the next to kick off, this time about a meeting that’s been organised for 3pm on a Friday. He came stomping round to Kirstie’s desk and demanded to know why this one had to be on a Friday at 3pm (if he can help it Harley either has flexi or is working from home on a Friday). She didn’t know, she didn’t arrange the meeting, just sent out the email. Off he stomps again. 5 minutes later back he stomps. “But why 3pm on a Friday?! That’s stupid; he won’t be popular for that!” Kirstie goes on to explain why this meeting has to be then, how it ties in with everything else etc. It actually makes a lot of sense even though I know I’d be pissed off if someone made me attend a 3pm meeting on a Friday. Now Moody is turning into Kevin the Teenager “Oh god, it’s so unfair!” At this point Kirstie actually tells Harley to tuck in his bottom lip and man up! He he. You know who runs the ship round here! So off he stomps again.

More tantrums were earlier in the day and this time from Kirstie herself on the phone to her husband. We all know a lot about Kirstie’s husband, probably more than he would like and she has often said if he ever found out what she says about him at work he’d be mortified. For example we know about their sex life, the fact that he came home wasted the other evening after some works drinks and pee’d up the wall in the bathroom, that he’s worried about aging and uses creams and lotions and ointments, that he loves going to Harvey Nicks with her shopping and Claridges for afternoon tea (ironically this guy is massive and a prison warden) plus an abundance of other revelations. Anyway I digress. They were arguing on the phone earlier about stuff they are buying for their bathroom and she got really shirty with him. That low and angry voice came into play, very threatening and dark and then a curt “bye” and the phone slammed down. “I hate him!” I gave her a raised eyebrow and smirk and got back “No I really do hate him!” Then he calls back and there is more of the same and then ½ an hour later he calls back again and she’s saying “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Jesus, it’s like an episode of Corrie.

I have yet to throw my toys out of any prams or have a phone argument or stick my bottom lip out but there is still 15 minutes left in my working day so never say never. Actually I’m in a lot better mood today, less of the grumps and more of the grins. Plus it’s been quite entertaining here and I have my smacking spoon to hand.

Grumps

Sorry for the lack of blog (I’ve had complaints) but Monday was a no starter with very little a-happenin’ in the office and I was off….er…..sick…yesterday. I’ve also found that my new desk means I am actually talking to people around me in a social manner and not hiding under my i-pod so I tend to get distracted…. Then suddenly its 16:18 and I’m having to type like a mad thing again! Don’t worry, I shant be neglecting you or dropping you like a tray of hot potatoes for some new found happiness in my work place. I’m sure after a few weeks of this I’ll be back to being a surly old bugger and moaning my tits off about everyone again.

I am actually a right old grumpy bum today, mainly because I am very tired and this office is very warm and frankly I am disappointed in the selection of cakes CJ brought in for her birthday. She is 32 today. I’ve had a cake (it was crap) but I haven’t wished her a happy birthday. Kirstie thinks I’m mean – I told her to fuck off and try sitting next to that for 6 months. She shut up soon after that. Grumpy remember?

I didn’t realise how much of a chatter Kirstie is and I think my sitting here has actually increased her talking quota during the day. Today she is especially talkative as she’s had too much fizzy pop and chocolate and can’t be bothered to do any of the work she has. I don’t mind really, she’s quite a funny gal and most of the time very entertaining but if she’s going to start pulling me away from my blogging duties then I may have to have words. She didn’t sleep well either as her neighbors’ (the “stupid bitch next door”) have just got their brood some rabbits and stuck the hutch next to the fence right under Kirstie’s bedroom window. So all night she was kept awake to the sound of the local foxes trying their hardest to break into the hutch by flinging themselves at it and the poor wee rabbits screaming in terror. I think the stupid bitch next door slept through it all. Gunner told her not to worry as the foxes would find a way in and have all the bunny joy they wanted in a few days which made Kirstie even more distraught. Never happy is she?

To my other side is the IT Geek boy who I have discovered smells quite, quite bad. Its body odor we’re talking about here people and today he is ripe! Not looking forward to the summer! I think I remember Kirstie saying something before about this….. Normally it’s not too offensive and I get the odd waft but today has been a ‘breathing through your mouth’ day. Thankfully he tends to bugger off to meetings all the time so I hope not to see too much of his stinky-ness. We may have to come up with some solutions to that though, like hanging magic trees from my monitor.

Moody is being an annoying arse. I have this pile of documents to get through he told me to make notes on and then speak to me about and all day I’ve had “yeah I’ll come over after I’ve sent this email”. And has he? Has he fuck. Part of me wonders if it’s his mind going and part of me wonders if he is just too busy to care. Either way it’s frustrating the hell out of me. I bet he comes over at 4.55pm. You know what he’ll get if he does that don’t you? Grumpy remember?

Friday Feeling

Been to the pub, it’s Friday and its Gunner’s birthday (yesterday) so it was called for. Also we had a little entourage today including Saffa (she was well on the ball at 12.01pm – “come on then, when are we going?!”), the guy who reminds me of my Dad and a new boy as well (incidentally the new boy who has gone straight in at my old desk – they don’t hang about! Good luck with that one matey!) As an added bonus the guy who reminds me of my Dad suggested he foot the bill and claim it off Moon Monkey next week so it was all free as well!

This has now resulted in a semi-drunk Clueless and I was looking forward to coming back to my desk and doing bugger all for the afternoon and possibly sneaking a snooze in the unused meeting room. Moody had other ideas and has now landed 12 requesitions, 5 documents for posting and an URGENT contract on my desk.

Er it’s Friday? More significantly it’s 2.30pm on a Friday and I have been drinking. Do you honestly think any of this is going to get done today? I had to hide my mouth behind my hand when I was talking to him to mask the cider fumes so he must know surely??

Hence the short and sweet blog for today, I have things to do but didn’t want to leave you feeling neglected. CJ didn’t get invited to the pub as she’s not in today (talk about conning the new boy into a sense of false security) thank god. Otherwise she would have been there for the free food and drink fo shizzle.

Oh dear did I just say that? Did I just say ‘fo shizzle’? I think I need some coffee stat and for these bits of paper on my desk to go away.

Happy weekends people.

Vide

Two blogs in one day? What is this?!

Well I got a cracking email back from one of the vendors again and thought I’d share it with you all:

“Greeting for the Day”.

We thank you very much for the accepting our request for approval as approved vendor vide trailing mail and look forward for your enquiries in future to serve you.

“vendor vide”? do you think he might be German? But the email came from the British Virgin Islands….

Crack open the Magners

Slow day today as I ran out of things to do at about 11.30am and have been trying to invent things jobs ever since. Still stuck at my desk next to the shrill, gacking freak but fingers crossed it won’t be for much longer. Kristie has cleared all her stuff off the new one and it’s now sat empty and inviting just waiting for the lazy buggers in IT to pull their fingers out. I must admit my heart sank a little when I walked in this morning and saw my computer still on my desk but everything comes to those who wait.

I also had another piece of good news this morning which has made this possibly the best work week in a long time. CJ isn’t coming to the residential training course in Devon! Hurrah! Double celebrations! She has clashing training schedules and the other takes precedence over this so she’s been told she can’t go. Apparently she is gutted, whereas me and Ginger are over the moon! You know at this rate I’ll be on my way to a totally CJ-free existence. Hmmmm, well maybe not (I don’t think I could ever be that lucky) but at least my doctor can stop worrying about my blood pressure now.

So what to do for the rest of the day? I already have my i-pod on so that’s one distraction (plus it blocks out some of the CJ so always a bonus) and I’m thinking about an extended lunch break, maybe down the pub. It’s Gunner’s birthday so I’m sure he’d be up for a pint at work. As ever I have the interweb at my disposal so I can check out the BBC news and then after 4 minutes of that move on to some more intellectual sites such as Faceache and I Can Has Cheezeburger. Oh heck, who am I kidding? I was on those at 8.45am while chowing on my muesli!

Then there is the task of sorting through all my junk in my draws (easy) and cupboard for when I move desks. My cupboard seems to have become a mini larder and holds mainly shoes, clothes and food. There’s even a bottle of cider in there (for when things get REALLY bad). I’ve just had a look and I have the following:

A box of tissues
A pair of gloves and a scarf
2 pairs of shoes
1 big jumper
2 empty water bottles
Files with random papers in them
A St John’s Ambulance pack
2 tins of Heinz soup
A half eaten pack of Cadbury’s Crunchie biscuits (new discovery – yum!)
¼ pack of crackers
4 mini packs of raisins
½ pack of rice crackers
100 plastic carrier bags (well it seems like it)
Can opener
2 bread rolls (going stale)
A bottle of Magners
6 old note books
A large bandage

So clearly a lot of things in my cupboard are very important work related documents. I think things people keep in their desks can say a lot about them and also the way they keep them. I mean if you were to open Andre’s cupboard (which I have had to do on the odd occasion – its ok I wore gloves) then you’ll find all of those files and documents you’d been looking for for months piled up and shoved in so that they spill on to the floor as the door opens. She also has a gnome, 5 million packets of crisps and lots of food ointments and remedies. Its chaos, bit like her work ethic really. “What’s that Andre? You fucked that order up again?” You only have to look at her arse to see where the crisps went.

Moody’s cupboard has lots of papers but these are a little more organised into piles. Only he knows what piles these contain and it always astounds me that he can pick a bit of paper out of these when you ask for it. “Hmmm, yes that would be in the 3rd pile to the right, 12 documents down”. There’s a bottle of flavoured water he got free a while back in there but that’s it. Moody’s a slave to his work it seems.

CJ’s cupboard is normally locked so I have no idea what’s in there. It’s a bit like her handbag she clutches as she runs around the office – no one will ever know what lies within. It’s a great mystery of the department and one day we shall tell our grandchildren tales of the handbag and what secrets could lay locked inside….. Next time she’s off I’ll try and break into it by getting the spare keys off Ginger and let you know what I find. I’m sure we’ll be disappointed though.

Gunner’s cupboard mainly holds boxes of cereals as he’s on this cereal diet thing. You know when you have one bowl for breakfast and lunch? Doesn’t quite work for him though as he ends up getting hungry later and grabbing a sandwich anyway. Flavours of the month currently are Cheerio’s, Rice Crispies and Weetabix. As I type this I can hear his spoon clinking in his cereal bowl, bless. We should have put a candle in his Coco Pops (careful).

Well I think I have bored you with the contents of people’s cupboards enough for one day. Tomorrow – pen tidies and their cultural links.

Words can not describe

TODAY IS THE BEST DAY EVER! CELEBRATION TIME! WHOOOO! I’M DOING A LITTLE JIG AS I TYPE!

Guess what? Go on – guess! I bet you can’t, I bet you can’t guess why I am so hip, hip, happy on this lovely Wednesday! I’ll give you a clue, it’s got something to do with CJ……no, they’re not firing her lazy arse, it’s not THAT good (on that day there won’t be a blog as I will be down the pub celebrating) but it’s close to it.

I am moving desks!

I finally had enough yesterday, I was on the edge of a breakdown and rocking in my chair as her shrill voice bore into the side of my skull and bounced around my brain. I’m sure I’ve developed a nervous twitch that is triggered by her picking up the phone. So I decided something finally had to be done. I had 3 options – the first was to kill her, the second to leave the company and the third to move desks. The first two ideas had some complications such as a lengthy jail term, not being allowed into America ever again and being unemployed so I decided to go with the third, and today I had my meeting with Harley.

I wasn’t sure how to word what I had to say without just going into some tirade and listing off what she does to irritate the fuck out of me so I tread carefully. I started it all by saying “Well, it’s a bit of an awkward situation really…” and then “I don’t want to start naming names but…” just to ensure Harley knew I was going about this in a professional manner (yes, I can do that you know). As soon as I mentioned distractions at my desk, loud and lengthy phone calls and intrusions in my personal work space he cottoned on immediately and started nodding sympathetically. I made sure he knew how far my sanity had been frayed through a few distressed looks and how long I had put up with it all as well. This plan can’t fail, I have to move….

“Well I think it’s just over exuberance on her part…” says Harley. Er are you actually saying that she’s just a little bit over excited EVERY day at work? Are you trying to defend her rudeness? Maybe I am losing him here, quick Nancy, pull it back. “Oh of course, this is nothing personal; I just find that it’s stressing me out a lot”. Again with the sympathetic nodding, so what does he want me to do?

“I want to move desks”.

He looks perplexed, how’s he going to manage this one? “How do you think we should approach this then?” I assure him I don’t want to make a fuss so how about moving me next to Gunner, Ginger and Kirstie so I’m with the rest of the team (I am actually a part of but don’t sit with) and using that as an excuse? Harley agrees this could work and to be honest I think he’s just relieved he didn’t have to come up with an idea himself. “Yes I’ll instigate that straight away.”

You will? You promise?! No shitting me around? What’s this? You’re already walking me over to my new desk and taking a note of the number so you can get my computer moved? Kirstie is clearing space, emptying cabinets and making room for me? It’s happening, it’s actually happening!!

I can not begin to describe to you the sense of relief at this point, my day has suddenly got a lot sunnier and a big grin is forming on my face.

Harley comes over 10 minutes later and does his part “hey guys, just to let you know I’m moving Nancy over to this side to be with the rest of the team, it makes sense seeing as you all work on similar projects – ok?” Of course they’re ok they’ve known about this plan for ages! 10 out of 10 for the acting skills Harley, you had everyone convinced.

So far not a word from CJ which leads me to think she either hasn’t been listening or because she thinks this doesn’t involve her she isn’t bothering to take any notice. Although it could be that she has realised the real reason for my move and is deeply embarrassed by it all and so staying schtum. Naaahhh, that would require some kind of awareness of what’s going on outside her own existence and also some level of tact, neither of which she has.

So the countdown begins to a freak-neighbour free work space! I am going to miss Andre though, I might come back and visit her and her gnome some time.

“I am really exciting”

I may have mentioned before in a wholly detrimental fashion that part of my job is data entry. I spend some time each week putting information about different companies into a ruddy useless database that no one actually accesses as yet. It’s time consuming, boring, tedious, mind numbing and makes me want to cry sometimes. People forward emails, phone calls and brochures to me, all the unwanted shit mail they don’t want to deal with and yours truly has been put in charge of sorting through. So I use the details I need and send a polite message back to the company telling them their information is now in our database (omitting the fact that no one actually uses it) and thank you kindly for your email. Job done. Now I’ve been at this a few months however, it means that those hard arsed sellers have started to reply to this generic email, thinking I am their way in, their key to commission, their foot in the door. How wrong they are. I know nothing about their enquires as I have yet to be trained in any way, shape or from to respond to these and know not what the heck they are talking about - so I am afraid I can’t help you caller. Luckily I have been trained to a fairly high level in the art of bullshit and so can fob most of them off.

Many of these emails and enquiries come from overseas, from countries where English is not their 1st language and they do struggle to get their point across. I’m not mocking them (well not yet, read on and then the mocking starts), I can’t claim to be able to speak Chinese or Afrikaans or Hindu, in fact sometimes I barely manage the English, but their attempts at translations do bring a light relief in to what is otherwise a pointless and soul destroying task. This afternoon I spent 10 minutes trying to simply spell out the email address to one guy on the end of a crackling phone line, only to be called back later as he still didn’t have it down right. “So that’s B for Beta” – “No, D for er, Dog” – “B for Bug?”…… He was apologising the whole way through and I told him not to worry as often the people who call me from High Wycombe can’t spell it either.

It’s the emails that make me chuckle the most, here are a couple of the top quotes for you:

“We have at a professional Engineer to simple technical assistant in all domains.”

“Ours objectives is facility your business development.”

“Good afternoon Bernard” – I’m sorry who now?

“Many thanks for your email & expeditious reply.” – all right luv, calm down it’s just a generic email

“May I have this email to be communicated with the Managers for should any requirement arise?“

“I am write to hope we can establish business cooperation in the near future.”

“Attached a peep through the window to our company and some of the services we render.”

“We would really appreciate it if you would be so kind as to consider us in your process of obtaining quotations and estimated and grant us the oppertunity to submit our quotations on our servies as your company and your valued clients might need.” – ever heard of spell check?

“Dear ladies and sirs”

“Long time no hearing from you, so how are you?”

“PLS FIND ATTACHED A RESUME OF OUR ACTIVITIES IN ALL MAJOR PORTS , WE WILL BE ONLY PLSD TO PROVIDE TO YOUR ESTEEMED CY THE BEST SERVICES AT A VERY COMPETITIVES PRICE.” – STOP SHOUTING AT ME!

“We take this profound pleasure in introducing ourselves as one of the major stockiest and suppliers”

“I am really exciting.” – are you now?

And one of my favourites: “So long you have not send mail to me ,I miss you in my mail !”

Awwww. How nice.

Can we kill her now?

The following emails sum up my afternoon:


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:07
To: Kirstie
Subject: Can we kill her now?

“They’ve bunged things in here, they’ve bunged things in there….its unacceptable it really is.” Does she ever shut up?


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:09
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Blah blah blah ….. Please get that masking tape…………….


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:11
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Reaching for it as I type…..

Weeeeellllll, yeeeeeaaahhhhhh……..on goes tape…….mmmmmmmfffffffff, mmmmmmmnnnnnffff…..


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:12
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

I second that… shut her up, I’m tired of hearing her too!!


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:14
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

If I reached across and just put my hand on the receiver holder and cut her off do you think she’d mind?


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:17
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

SHUT HER UP NOW!!!!!!!


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:18
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

How?!


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:21
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Stick a knife in her!!


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:21
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

I DON’T HAVE ONE!!!!

SOMEBODY FETCH ME A KNIFE!!!


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:22
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Forget the knife then, just punch her in the head


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:24
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

SOMEBODY FETCH ME A FIST BIG ENOUGH TO FIT HER MASSIVE EGO INFLATED HEAD!


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:25
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Thank god she’s gone … a slight reprieve!!!


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:32
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

For now….

Sigh, sigh, huff, puff… did you hear her slamming the glass door about when she stomped off to the loo?


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:35
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

What the hell is wrong with her … nope I didn’t, I was in kirstieworld, but I can imagine, spoilt brat needs a good smack about the head


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:35
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Hands up if you want to do the smacking!


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:36
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

OH GOD SHE’S REACHING FOR HER PHONE AGAIN!


From: Kirstie
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:36
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

Maybe you should just lean across and ask her to go to the meeting room??


From: Nancy Clueless
Sent: 07 May 2010 14:38
To: Kirstie
Subject: RE: Can we kill her now?

She’s tracked down poor old IT Geek – don’t give away your location Geek!!!



It goes on but I wouldn’t want to bore you. What’s that? You already are? Fair enough.

In other news I got chatting to Saffa on email and she ended up inviting me to lunch. Oooer. So I suggested she join the usual rabble for drinks on a Friday some time, alternatively I am free Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday…. So she responded with “Friday drinks sound good, I’m having lunch with CJ this Friday so how about next week?”

You’re what now? Oh dear, poor old Saffa has fallen into her usual trap of being too nice and got caught up in socialising with the office retards. It happened with FB and she regretted that eventually. Now we’re all worried that she’ll invite CJ along to the drinks next week. If she does then I’m going to suggest we have another very frank conversation about sexual preferences and fetishes and see how she reacts. It might also prompt some interesting responses from Saffa, who knows what we might learn!

Andre has also given me her mobile number. Christ.

Ranty, ranty, rant Part 2

This morning I opened up my email and had this from Ginger:

From: Ginger
Sent: 06 May 2010 08:25
To: Nancy Clueless
Subject: FW: Field Course

What the ……………..


From: HR
Sent: 05 May 2010 17:16
To: Ginger
Subject: RE: Field Course

Unfortunately, there are no spaces left. I have just booked CJ from your team yesterday. The other dates available are September? Please let me know ASAP.

HR


From: Ginger
Sent: 04 May 2010 14:22
To: HR
Subject: Field Course

Hi HR,

I would like to attend the field course in Dorset on the 15-17 June 2010.

Please confirm this is okay.

Regards,

Ginger


WTF?!? Not funny! Ginger what have you done to me?! That’s so not funny, I think I’m going to cry! Aggghhhhhhhh!

“Calm down Nancy, it’s just a joke!” What? “Just messing with you, I’m on the course!” Oh thank christ for that. Not funny Ginger, not funny. And noted – watch your back!

This does mean that CJ is also on the course with us. All three happy course goers together! Hurrah! So if that’s not bad enough I have had to put up with a shed load of uber annoying-ness from her highness this week as well. The main issue has been the volume and attitude emanating from the desk beside me. I said there were two instances in particular, well now the 2nd has merged into a 3rd today. She’s been talking to me far too much for my liking as well. Where did I put that damn i-pod?

Yesterday the IT Geek comes over to ask CJ a question about some document she has put into place. He has been told to complete one and clearly doesn’t understand what needs to be done. It’s not his fault, it’s not in his usual remit, it’s something new to him and he wants to ask for some advice. You’ve come to the wrong place kiddo.

As the conversation unravels it appears that CJ is shocked and appalled at the fact that this geek doesn’t know about her ‘darling’ document, that she spent hours slaving away at and had to do so because our ‘darling’ company didn’t have anything in place before she came along and saved us all from incompetence. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this”, “I’m stunned I really am”, “How can a company work like this?” etc, etc. Now imagine all of those sentences said in the most patronising and obnoxious tone possible. Imagine the person saying them has huge illusions of grandeur and self importance. That they believe they are going to be individually responsible for taking this department and company to a new level and that they will be praised and rewarded for their efforts at every turn. Now also imagine that they are talking to the IT Geek like he is a complete retard, someone who is unable to grasp the fact that she is so amazing he should be thanking her for the time she is giving him and breath she is wasting on him.

Now imagine this goes on for a full 25 minutes.

Luckily I was between jobs in the stacks and so could walk away from my desk with a folder in hand and hang around the filing for a while. Give it 5 minutes I thought, and then they’ll be done - how wrong I was. Every time I sat back at my desk I could feel my rage building as she got more and more obnoxious, ruder and ruder to this poor IT Geek who had come over to ask a simple question. I could feel my fists actually clenching and found myself getting up again to wander the office in search of somewhere else to be. At one point I crossed Gunner at the photocopier who made a hand in fist gestures at me whilst jerking his head in CJ’s direction. At the time I was carrying 3 lever arch files and I said under my breath “if she doesn’t shut up I’m going to shove these up her arse”. People were throwing me looks of pity across the divides as she ranted on and on and on and on….. The poor IT Geek looked like he was desperate to leave but there was no way out, he’d dug his hole and no one was prepared to step in and save him in case they too were sucked into the vortex of CJ and her twattish sayings.

Finally he managed to walk away and the ranting stopped. Peace at last, only interrupted by the odd phone call “HELLO CJ SPEAKING!” where she was rude beyond comprehension to a client – so much so it jolted Kirstie to email me with “How rude was she?!” 5pm came around and I grabbed my lunch box and ran.

Reading that back it doesn’t quite get across the extreme annoying factor that she was generating yesterday. It wasn’t just me; there were a lot of other people sitting around her who had the urge to ram pencils up their noses just to get away from it all. Maybe one day I will record her with Kirstie’s Dictaphone and let you hear how fucking grating she can be.

Instance 3 was back with the IT Geek today. Before I had sympathy for the guy, he walked into that situation completely unprepared and unaware and was caught in the head lights. Today however he had only himself to blame as he returned with another question about the aforementioned document. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” And so it starts again. I can’t believe this either! Why have you come back to ask her?! Why is she going into one again about something so trivial and feckin’ simple? Immediately my hackles are up, the rage-o-meter is rising and my knuckles are going white. I have to get away. As I stand up Gunner does so at exactly the same point and eyeballs me to get the fuck out of here. So we run for it, we run and we don’t stop running until we get to the kitchen. OK, so we don’t run, we saunter with empty coffee cups in hand but I’m trying to build a dramatic scene here. After leisurely making a coffee in the kitchen and deciding the coast must be clear we saunter back. She’s still ranting. IT Geek looks like he’s eyeing up the fire escape exit and his hand is edging towards the paper weight on her desk.

I sit back down and try to block it out, the whiny, loud, patronising chatter that I have 3 solid days of to look forward to in June.

I’ll race you for the fire escape IT Geek.

Ranty, ranty, rant

I’m back and a little more organised and a little calmer today. Perhaps this is a good thing as I can view yesterday’s rage in retrospect, putting together a calm and detailed description of events as they unfolded. Or I could just do the usual and have a good old rant.

What’s that?

Good old rant it is then.

Moody is off this week, off on the annual leave he should have had last week when CJ decided to take a sickie. This means I do have a slightly quieter week and don’t have to put up with any of his forgetfulness or rambling which is always a plus. However, he is also a good buffer for CJ and without him here she seems to have been spreading herself about the office (ewww) poking her nose in everywhere and yapping away. Yesterday it all got a bit much and her yapping and interference led to my patience failing and my rage boiling over. There are 2 things in particular that stand out and rather than go into every little intricacy I’ll focus on those two.

First thing she does after appearing in the office at – wait for it – 8.45am (wow so you CAN make it into the office for a reasonable hour? Who’d have guessed it?!) is get on the phone to HR.

“Yeah hi it’s CJ here, yeah, yeah. I emailed so and so about the 3 day residential course but their out of office said to contact you. Yeah, yeah. Riiiiiigght. Well it’s about the June course….”

My ears have already pricked up, this is the course Ginger and I have booked to go on. The one we booked as we knew she was on annual leave.

“……yeah, so I was wondering if there were any spaces left on that? Riiiiggggghhht. Yeah, yeah, yeah……..yeah. OK thanks.”

Immediately Ginger pings an email over to me along the lines of “Did you hear that?!” Yep, it looks like our favorite colleague is trying to get on the same course as us. The 3 day residential course. That’s 3 days in a hotel with her, all day in talks and at meals and in the bar. “We have to sabotage!” cries Ginger, “Quick get on the phone to HR and book in 20 fake people!”

But hang on, what happened to CJ’s annual leave? She had the whole week booked off? It has transpired today that she’s decided to move her holiday about so that she can attend. Can I point out at this stage that there is a course this month and one in September she can attend? Well I did. Oh no, she doesn’t want to do the May one (it’s not residential, no hotel in Devon) and couldn’t possibly wait until September! Even Harley is a bit mystified as to why anyone would alter their holiday plans to go on a training course and he’s her line manager. But she is adamant and Kirstie had the email confirming all of this last night:

From: CJ
Sent: 04 May 2010 16:38
To: Harley
Subject: FW: CJ Hols (2010)

Hi Harley

As discussed, I have agreed to attend a 3-day course on Tues 15 - Thurs 17 June.

Therefore I'd like to shift my 6-days worth of annual leave in June up by a few days (instead of running from Fri-Fri, change to Mon-Mon instead), hence:

Mon 07 - Mon-14.06.2010 = Week off then Isle of Wight
Tues15 - Thurs 16.06.2010 = 3 day course
Fri 17.06.2010 = Back in office (a day to catch-up on almost 2 weeks worth of emails...then start full working week as normal.)

Apologies for any inconvenience caused - hope the proposed dates are OK?

Kind regards

CJ


How wanky is that email? And what’s with the full break down? He doesn’t care! Oh and I love the bit that says “a day to catch-up on almost 2 weeks worth of emails...then start full working week as normal” – so by ‘normal’ does she mean back on the 10.30am starts and running around with her handbag and a cup of tea in hand so she looks busy?

So there’s no escaping it, she’s going to be there. I can only hope now that we can ditch her pretty much straight away and then Ginger and I stick together for moral support. That is if Ginger is coming……

Harley comes over to tell me and Ginger the good news – hip hip hooray. “You got confirmation you’re on the course didn’t you Ginger?” “Er no I don’t think so” “Did you email HR to say which dates you wanted to go on?” “Er no.”

What?

Turns out Ginger read the email I forwarded her and then did nothing about it assuming she would be automatically put on the June course. Yes of course, because HR have psychic abilities and so could read your mind. Jesus, she can be incredibly blonde sometimes, especially for a ginger chick. I am round there like a shot – “Get on and frickin’ email HR now! I am NOT going on that course with her on my own!” She still hasn’t heard back so who knows if she’ll be going or not. In the mean time she did come across a 4 day course based in Melbourne so we might try get on that instead as a plan B. I’m sure the company wouldn’t mind flying us out there for a course that is completely irrelevant to our roles.

My boss has just planted a VERY important order on my desk that needs to be done NOW, NOW, NOW! Can you not see I am blogging Harley?! Sheesh. Looks like we’re going to have to make this a 2 parter folks. Until tomorrow.

Quickie

Today seems to have run away with me so I am short of time to pen today’s blog. It’s a shame as I do have a fair bit to put in it and most of it centres on CJ (for a change!) who I know you like to hear about. I have been very close to whacking her around the back of the head with something blunt from the stationary cupboard, as have many people sitting in close proximity to her. I’ve actually had to get up and walk away from my desk several times to stop the scream building inside me from escaping. There are now small grooves in my desk where I have been clawing the surface in frustration and anger. Murderous thoughts a plenty.

But I’m going to have to be a right old tease and promise you more in great detail tomorrow as I don’t plan to be here a second longer than necessary if it involves sitting next to this obnoxious bint. The venom and wrath that will spill from my fingertips around this are going to have me tapping away for a fair amount of time and I want to be able to give it my full attention.

Sorry to let you down today but think what you have to look forward to tomorrow! Hopefully I’ll still be here and not in some lock up somewhere awaiting trial for GBH with a hole punch.