harping on about harpies

Never, ever again let me speak too soon on the subject of ‘hey! I think I’m well again!’ Today, the drums were back. They were in my head, keeping time to my footsteps, heartbeat, you name it. I think I had taken the lack of a running nose as a Good sign. But it isn’t, it’s merely a sign of my sinuses fossilising.  Sigh. And on Hellday, too.

And today, we have a double-dose of Hellday – my Colleague of Empty Kettles has taken a day of annual leave, so it fell to my Cellmate and I to deal with Dr Hurricane. Oh cruel fate. Both of us used to work for her before, and both of us ditched the, er, well, ditched her as soon as was humanly possible. But now, we have her back – and she’s on the warpath because my Colleague of Empty Kettles always takes Hellday off if she possibly can.

I suppose she was politer than she could have been, if we’d still been her Designated secretaries. She demanded I find some results for her and then stood wafting an envelope at me vigorously while complaining that I stink of fag smoke while I did it. Listen lady; in the middle of doing you a favour, here. Do not be looking a gift-horse in the mouth and declaring its breath smells!

But we had recovered from the invasion, when she suddenly burst back in at the end of the day and threw a tape down on the desk, saying, Which of you wants to do this, then? while we sat like a couple of horrified duelling pistols, mouths ajar. Sadly, neither of us managed to choke out the words, We don’t actually WORK for you– before she’d charged out again.

Ah Dr Hurricane, and my Colleague of Empty Kettles, a plaque on both your teeth. I still can’t calculate quite which of you is ruder to me, and I think the only difference is intent. Dr Hurricane does it carelessly because she thinks we’re all peasants, so how we feel is immaterial; while my Colleague of Empty Kettles does it because she has Personal Beef with me, though what flavour it is, who can tell. There’s a brain in there somewhere like a mad, glittery ball of needles, constantly scanning for ‘enemies’ and I reckon she’s somehow filed me under that heading. Along with ninety percent of the rest of the population.

I would shrug it off, but only once I’m really confident I could take her out if she snaps and goes on a killing spree. Releasing all that insanity at once might give her Hulk Strength, who knows.

On that note – no training for me tonight. My head is bursting, I really need an early night, and I’m now at the stage of stress where I make an excuse not to do one activity because the next is more pressing, then ditch that one in favour of the third and while doing the third, start wondering if damn, I shoulda concentrated on the first one after all. Maybe it’s no wonder I can’t see straight at the moment!

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About beshemoth

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

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