the mad hatter’s teaparty continues

Lo, I am still really happy. My Colleague of Skull Scarves commented on it. It is only a matter of time before my Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something decides I’ve got laid and gets the hump. Hee. In fact, everything that usually annoys me to the point of tearing my hair out at work is just making me laugh at the moment, it’s fantastic. Oh, if I could feel this brave and hopeful and joyful forever! I won’t, of course, but it’s like a warm bath of champagne. Ew, actually. Like champagne on a tiger-skin rug in front of a fire, after you’ve won a big battle! Yes, that sounds slightly less disgusting.

And I am all caught up and tonight, I shall Not do overtime, no I shall go to the library and work on that birthchart I said I had finished, ha. Well, I woulda finished it if I hadn’t suffered three datawipes in the last six months I’ve been attempting to work on it, seriously. Then I shall go to the fighting. Tomorrow, I shall give blood. Woo!

Or… not. For we were supposed to have a meeting with the Boss at two this afternoon. She never arrived, but a junior doctor did – one I don’t even work for, but for some reason his casenotes all got dumped in my office, so he came through and faffed with them for ages, then took some stuff away to photocopy and bring back (Emphasis added). I couldn’t lock up and flee, so I waited and waited for him to return.

Turned out he’d got his coat and bag, offered to take my colleagues out for coffee – was I invited? No! – and when they said, We can’t, sodded off home. Leaving me sitting like a bump on a log for just long enough for the Boss to turn up and have the meeting at me after I was supposed to have clocked off. Gah! Can I claim that back at time and a half? At time? At all?

Because it took two damn hours. And forty minutes of that, she was on the phone to Dr Anonymous, oh grinding of teeth. I filled in the time helping my colleagues stuff envelopes.

However, since the meeting was about the changes to my workload, I suppose I had better have stayed. Yeah verily, my workload has been turned upside down for the fourth time in six months, and I am not counting ‘moving to the new building’ as one of those times. Hmm. It’s typing things like that that make me think, Yeah, actually, maybe I am utterly stressed at work and just stopped noticing it – I sure as buttons look forward to some peace at home!

However. This time, the Boss brought news that was… good. My new cellmate is the lassie I was hoping it would be, who I have chatted with over email about gardening and martial arts! And she volunteered for the move, so it’s not like my wish means her life is kyboshed! And I’m not doing the nurse-led clinics any more, she is – I’m getting a second consultant. And it’s one of the nicer ones. In fact, that’s me landed two of the biggest tippers – and Christmas is galloping full tilt towards us!

Jesus, everything just worked out exactly as I hoped there! What exactly is the punchline?

(Apart from – I am now no longer working for the very nice physio who I only met for the first time today.)

Well, the punchline is that my arse is slightly safer for this round of musical chairs – and it is important to remember that the main feature of musical chairs is that each round, one chair is taken away. However. The next round will be played with no Boss. And with no Boss’s Boss. Which leaves a major power vacuum at the worst possible moment, because the spending cuts are going through again. Essentially, the next time the feudal lords gather to discuss to, ‘Whose peasants shall we throw to the wolves?’, us peasants won’t have a feudal lord. Sing along with Pseudo Oscar Wilde – There is only one thing worse than having a feudal lord…

Still. Just this once, just this fecking once, the dice all fell in my favour, and though it may be the axe next time, I am determined to enjoy it!

Well, maybe not tonight. I really have no idea why that took so long – I am damn well not allowed to say, No these changes are unacceptable to me, so imparting the information could have taken five minutes. It certainly only took me one minute to pretend to assimilate it and make the best of it (if I looked delighted, they might take it away again). That meant, I could not get into town in time for fightclub, and here I had just promised my flatmate I would be out till half eight/ nine so she could pack in the lounge. Which she apparently feels she can’t do when I’m home. Yeah, it’s fair to say the notice may have actually raised tensions round these parts. Fortunately, it’s a short-term situation and I do genuinely believe she will be much happier under her own roof, where she can amalgamate the cats and all will be Well. It’s just the getting there.

So I went for a glass of red, and then went up the Allittlement to pick rosehips. It gets dark bloody quick these days! I was home at half seven, and I was walking through the park pretty nearly blind by that point.

No flatmate, so I went and hid in me room and went through the rosehips. Never pick rosehips in the dark, you end up with all kinds of crap. But! Today was less than successful, and yet in a lot of ways it was totally awesome, and I still feel brilliant and this is some kind of personal record, perhaps!



About beshemoth

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

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