so we finally got thrown out to make way for a big bin

Today: The office move! And I was ever so motivated! I got in early and copied the stuff for the course grant application, packed all me pending into boxes and even got a couple of letters typed before the Boss arrived and instantly managed to transform the place into a chaos of people tearing their hair out. And there were only two of us there! Is she an Aquarian? Enquiring minds suspect it is so!

I have just handed in my resignation! said the Boss. What? Wow! I knew this post was a stepping stone but nine months is stepping pretty lively!

Oh no, she said, I have not anything lined up. Oh. Shit, the stress has got to her after all.

Oh no, she said, I’m just fed up of not being able to implement any changes I want to make!

Um. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, See, that’s why all your predecessors sat and waited it out, rather than working sixteen hours a day. Also, I would be leaving a job with no job to go to only if I reallllly could not hack it any more; but there we go. Hopefully she’ll be okay. I mean, she’s a Boss and all, and reading off the Template of Bossdom, but she means well. I think.

Let us move your stuff into my car, said the Boss. So I moved my stuff into her car and she drove over and handed me the keys while she went to look for a trolley. Just move it if anyone needs you to! she called. Erm, what, nobody’s let me drive since I was eighteen (when my Chestnut-haired Old Mother leant me her car for the summer and it turned out she knew about the dodgy brakes and the bald tyres).

The Boss came back before anyone else did, thank god. She had a very small trolley; with a bar across it that would not let even one crate in. Oh god, it’s gonna be a long day. But wait! Who came scampering out with a more suitable trolley to help, like a Rottweiler puppy swimming after a drowning man in that Jasper Carrot sketch? My Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something, is who. My Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something: happy to see me and eager to help. I felt like puking with terror at this new parallel universe I am in.

I would help you load up, love, but one of us has to hold the trolley still, she smarmed blithely. Okay. Not everything is different in this universe. But I must find out if she calls everyone else ‘love’ (oh please god, say it is so!) Because my (other) colleagues are worried that she is going to try to Make Friends With Me again now we are in the same building, and after what happened the first three times… I mean, is it just no fun trying to slide someone’s holiday dates out from under them if at the same time you ain’t got em pinned against the wall by your racist invective gleaned fresh from this morning’s Daily Mail?

Ahem. I need to maintain this level of suspicion and distance, and it does not come naturally. Witness my inability to keep in mind that the Boss has lied to me on more than one occasion – or at least been stunningly less than accurate and it has directly affected my quality of working life.

Anyway. I got shown to my new office, which is on the corner. Fine, let’s pile it in and get going.

Let’s turn your desk so it faces the window! said the Boss. Oh no, really, all you can see out there is a giant, gleaming white building. And it is not even a terribly bright day (we had enthusiastic showers on and off, what great fun for moving paperwork). I will have snow-blindness by Christmas!

But apparently the Boss has Decided that I will have a desk that looks out the window, so a desk facing the window I shall have! I shall now need shades and everyone will think I am permanently hungover. Great. Wait, did she not just hand in her resignation? What the utter fuck is so important about the way my goddamn desk faces, then? She doesn’t work in here!

I was just starting to grind my teeth when my Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something came in and offered to show me how to set up my computer. I managed not to say, I have a degree in IT, thanks and if I cannot do this without your help, I deserve to choke to death on my own vomit. Which I would actually prefer to accepting any help from you. Good god, I had forgotten just how much that woman can annoy me by breathing.

(It’s the way she thrusts her chest out. Seriously, I R is straight, which is unfortunate given I seem to be a chick-magnet, but does mean a thrust-out pair of tits is not the best way to attract my attention. Also, I swear she’s had work done. Not that it matters, I just… Oh god. I have to stay angry at her, because if I don’t, I will give in to her attempt to be Friends with me, and as soon as I do that, we will fall back into that pattern where she tries to find a way to stab me in the back. Again. I don’t know what it is, about her, or about me, or what, but it definitely appears to be deliberate. Being a chick-magnet isn’t the only kinda magnet I seem to be, these days!)

Anyway. With the trusty aid of the Boss and my Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something (who utterly vanished, along with the instructions the Boss gave her to give to me) getting my stuff moved over took only thrice as long as it could have done. But after that, they both mysteriously vanished, so I was reunited with the colleagues who are actually (dare I say it) competent, and I was pretty motivated again! Jesus, we didn’t stop for lunch; we didn’t stop for more than a couple of minutes to glug a last coffee and scoff a Tunnocks teacake apiece! We were back and forth, by car, by shopping trolley, you name it, with files and filing cabinets and all sorts of fiascos with the parking attendants, under the most schizoid weather – blue skies followed by lashing winds followed by torrential downpour, sometimes actually falling upwards, and then suddenly the sky is blue again. I hope my flatmate has not blown away the way her clothespegs did. (I went out and rescued em all. I am either wonderful or a fool to myself.)

After all that palaver, I was shattered, and it took eight solid hours. And since I am the youngest, the heaviest lifting fell to me. Which I thought I was all the equal of, but I keep forgetting ‘youngest’ no longer means ‘young’. Bah humbug.

So I was glad of the rain, big excuse not to go dig the Allittlement there, and a quiet night in of drawing corpses. Again with the drawing corpses. Still, the Lady of Lovely Hats came round with some more spare peapods (check me out, people BRING me scavenges!) and stayed for a cuppa this time and we had a rant about racism.

For a quiet week of hermitage, I seem spontaneously Popular. Weird.


About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
This entry was posted in please don't fire me, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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