The best things in life are free!

FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE

A lot of people are selling Ipods and other items on Ebay that they've got free by using an incentive programme - no purchase necessary! A colleague of mine (an accountant with her head screwed on the right way) has done some research on it, and so have I, and we've both come to the conclusion that it's genuine. My colleague's put a listing on Ebay but I thought I'd go the friends/family route because they're more likely to believe me than some stranger on Ebay!

Basically, you follow the first link below and sign up for an offer, enough to earn a credit. Some of them are free, so those are the ones I'd recommend (LoveFilm, for instance). By using my link below, I get a referral, and once I get 12 referrals, I get my free Ipod! I might keep it, but, to be honest, they are selling around £200 on Ebay, so I'd be more likely to sell it and then try a different incentive programme to get another one.

The 2nd link below shows a TV documentary about how these incentive programmes make money, and gives the experience of some college boys in the US. Although it doesn't specifically mention this incentive site, it does set my mind at rest about the business reason that these companies can make these offers.

There's nothing to stop you getting an ipod - or any of the other items on the Apple site - just please go through my link in the first instance to sign up! And if you'd like to circulate my link and this explanation to all your friends and family, that would be great! After all, wouldn't you like to be the one who helps them get a free Ipod???


http://Apple.real-incentives.com/?referral=18533

http:////news.bbc.co.uk/media/video/40101000/rm/_40101790_ipods_carver22_vi.ram

Still alive and kicking

The first two months of the year have just flashed by. Getting up at 6.15am and not getting home until 9pm a couple of nights a week and 6 or later every other night tends to make leisure time a bit restricted and I've had some busy weekends, too. This is not just leading up to an excuse about not having put away the Christmas decorations yet (no, they aren't still up, they just haven't made it from boxes on the floor to the attic yet) but it is leading up to a reason for the distinct scarcity of posts since the New Year.

I'm working hard, it's tiring because I'm not used to it - my last job is fading rapidly to the back of my mind, thank goodness, although I do still have the odd flashback nightmare of a couple of the freaks I had to work with. Well, 'work' doesn't really cover what I did there. I turned up, was treated like an imbecile, got paid and got more and more miserable with every passing moment.

Anyone from that evil place who is reading this will know that I don't mean that everyone was hateful and loathesome there - on the contrary, I met some really nice people there who I shall stay in touch with - but sharing an office with someone who thought the world revolved around her and interrupted and tried to take over every conversation, and who questioned every single statement, comment, request or observation was more than mere mortal flesh and blood could stand. Added to the smelly bearded git who was allegedly my line 'manager' and the neurotic stick insect who called herself a senior programme 'manager', and the lack of any real work to do, I'm amazed I lasted as long as I did with my sanity more or less intact!

All this ramble, though, leads me to my point (yes, there was one!) At the University, having sod all to do all day except try not to make eye-contact with some of the freaks who came into the General Office, meant that I had time to post regularly on my blogs and spend a fortune on Ebay. Alas! (or maybe Hurrah!) that is not the case here at CVML. I am a very busy little bee and a very happy one. I don't have time for blogging or Ebay while I'm at work - today is an exception! - but I don't want my faithful (if invisible) readers to feel I'm neglecting them.

Regular posts will resume when I've got into a better routine at home, so watch this space and don't forget - spit every time you pass the Boldrewood Campus of the University of Southampton! I do ....

I've spent a lot of time this week with my head under the bonnet. I've spent a lot of time this week sitting anxiously in traffic watching steam coming out from under the bonnet. You see that bottle on the left, with the yellow lid? That's where water goes. I keep putting water in and by the time I get home from work it's all gone and I drive up the road looking as if I'm making a grand entrance through a romantic cloud of dry ice. Of course, the romantic image on Friday was spoiled as I wound down the window and yelled at the woman getting out of her car that she had chosen a 'fucking stupid place to park'. She was right across my drive. She said she would only be a couple of minutes and went to deliver her brat to a house 2 doors down. I was steaming as much as the car by the time she came back, I can tell you! There are times when I wish I had a tank, then I'd simply ram people who got in my way ...

So my poor thirsty car is going to the garage tomorrow and I'll be feeling down the backs of sofas and chairs trying to find the money to pay for it. The new job is great, but it's inaccessible without a car, so I'll be completely stuffed if there's something major (expensive) wrong. Hey ho, I'll try not to think about that now.

Whenever I've started a new job - and there have been a few! - it hasn't been long (usually only a few hours) before someone has said, 'We're all mad here!' Well, the new job is no different. I can't remember who it was who informed me that they were, 'All mad here!' but someone did on my first morning. Actually, no-one's mad there that I've noticed. I think it's something people say to make you think they are wild and wacky and fun-loving. The only place I've worked where I've come across people who I consider to need serious long-term therapy and/or sectioning under the mental health act and/or electric shock treatment is the University and, funnily enough, no-one there ever uttered the phrase, 'We're all mad here!' And yet, most of them were ....

Weird that, or should I say WIHRD?

(In joke ... if you work there you'll know what I mean!)

A sign that I'm much happier where I am now : it's Sunday and I've cleaned the kitchen and have a roast dinner in the oven. When I was at the University I'd spend Sundays in bed under the duvet trying to convince myself that I didn't have to go back on Monday...

Fly in the ointment

... or rather, turd in the loo!

It didn't take long. We have pristine, ladies-only, immaculate toilets here in my new place of work, unlike the frankly disgusting cubicle we were forced to share with males and females at the university. To add insult to injury, the uni-loo was above the kitchen, so from about 10am it stank of boiled cabbage, even if cabbage was not on the menu. I suppose the smell of cabbage masked the smell of whatever was left floating in the pan ...

Well, unfortunately there is someone here who has difficulty in managing a total flush and I did actually find something that had only gone halfway round the U-bend last week. I decided not to put up one of my now-famous posters reminding people of the need to successfully flush all bodily waste, seeing as I've only been here 2 weeks and I would like to make it to the end of my trial period (end March). After that, the posters may start appearing ...

Apart from that, and the fact that my boss has left me such a complicated spreadsheet to complete that I don't know if I'll make it to the end of the day, let alone my trial period, everything is going swimmingly. We're bringing a radio in tomorrow because it's so quiet at the moment.

I'm betting I win the choice of radio station so this time tomorrow we should all be listening to Ken Bruce on Radio 2, joining in Pop Master ...

Day 2

This is me, skipping down the corridor at work today. Happy feet? Happy all of me!

I'm using someone else's computer because mine hasn't arrived yet, but apart from that all seems to be going well. I haven't felt the need to swear at anyone so far, but give it time! The journey there and back is different every time as I get into the wrong lane at roundabouts and end up on a different road from the one I expected but I'm sure I'll get the hang of it, and it will be easier in the summer when I can see where I'm going - at the moment it's dark when I leave the house, and dark when I leave the office.

I'm touching wood as I'm typing this (who, dear? Me, dear? Superstitious, dear? Yes, dear!) but so far, so good!

Long may it continue!

Happy New Year!

I hope your 2006 went out with a bang and that your 2007 started with one. Wait, I mean bang in the sense of the noise of fireworks, not bang in the American sense of ... oh well, either way, I hope you had a good one!

I spent a lovely evening with Jools Holland, since my dear friend Bunny was poorly and we had to cancel our plans which had involved dozens of mini spring rolls and wontons, washed down with lashings of champagne. Alas, Bunny was dripping snot and talking through great throatfuls of phlegm over the 'phone, and as I start a new job TOMORROW I didn't really want to catch it, thank you very much, so I stayed a safe 20 miles away at home.

I sent my mobile happy new year texts well before midnight to avoid the rush (I'm so organised I'm told it makes people sick) and turned my mobile off before I went to bed, so as to avoid any disturbance in the wee small hours when the glut of messages finally got through. No-one would be foolish enough to risk my wrath by 'phoning my home line! The fireworks stopped around 1am. I couldn't sleep a wink and ended up getting up and making some (decaff) coffee and playing a couple of rounds of Spider Solitaire before finally going back to bed and to sleep around 3am.

Oh, the joy of being awoken at 6am by the telephone - the land line. I ignored it. It rang every 20 minutes until, at 7.40, I dragged myself out of bed, promising to hang, draw and quarter whoever it was unless they had a very good reason, and discovered that it was a text message, sent at midnight by someone who shall remain nameless, but readers of earlier posts will recognize his Red Indian name of Fights-With-Neighbours. Bless him (not what I thought at the time though) he's got my home number instead of my mobile programmed into his 'phone, and he sent me a Happy New Year text at midnight, and it had taken until 6am to get through. My 'call minder' facility on my landline rings every 20 minutes after a message has been left. Oh bliss!

I can't claim that I then stayed awake and cleaned the kitchen to greet the new year with an array of sparkling surfaces - no, my new year's resolutions do not include exchanging my slut crown for that of domestic goddess - I went back to bed until noon. Now, though, the coffee is drunk, the eyes are fully open, and so are the shops. One last chance to grab a bargain before going back to the world of work tomorrow.

And a word about my new job. I'm looking forward to a fresh start with new people who, I hope, will not treat me like the office junior/dogsbody/janitor. My mistake in my last job was assuming that the managers I worked for knew that PA stood for Personal Assistant, and not, as they seemed to think, Piss Artist. Maybe I should take several copies of my CV with me and distribute them to the people in the new department? Maybe not ... Have to work out first if they are likely to get my sense of humour/irony/sarcasm ...

I have high hopes that everything will go smoothly but I know myself. I know I'm a cup-half-empty kinda gal. How long do you think it will be before this blog turns into a rant about my new colleagues?

I'm taking bets ...

In the meantime, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

It's all over now ...

My last day at work proved, once and for all, that I have made the right decision to leave.

Bearing in mind I organised the Christmas lunch, for 65 people, designed and printed all the place settings (with reminder menus on the back and jokes inside in case the cracker jokes weren't bad enough) organised the Secret Santa and the coach there and back, and managed to fit it all into the budget, oh, AND sourced the Santa suit AND made them a deal so that they could keep the suit for next year when I wouldn't be there to organize it ...

Bearing all that in mind, I was expecting a little more from the MD than, 'This time last year ... down-hearted ... didn't get contract ... blah blah ... Linda's leaving ... This time next year ... new contract ... blah blah ... Eat up everyone!'

Wanker.

I've made some great friends at the University. They clubbed together for the most wonderful designer jewellry for me that I love. I miss some of them already and it's been less than 10 days! But, on the whole, I'm glad to go - not because of the people, not because of the pay or the benefits or the holiday, but because of my line manager, Nick, and the one Senior Programme Manager who actually gave me any work, Joy. Joy has such a low opinion of herself and her ability that she projected that onto me from the word go, and assumed I would be incapable of doing the slightest task without constant supervision. Of course, one rises to expectations, and one also falls to them - whatever I did for her seemed to go wrong, and I maintain that if she'd left me to get on with it in the first place we wouldn't have had the problems we did.

But that's all in the past. This time next week I shall have completed my first week at my new job. I'm really a bit anxious about it because I always go into a new job with high hopes and last time - at the University - my hopes were dashed from day one.

I've had a very happy Christmas and I'm looking forward to a happy new year. I wish you all one, too.

xxx

Knit one, purl one

I used to knit a lot when I lived in Paris but since I've been back in England I've hardly done any knitting, and recently gave away all my needles. On a pre-Christmas visit to a friend I noticed a short piece of knitting on a pair of needles - full of holes and dropped stitches. Sue was teaching her grand-daughter to knit, and I started to think it would be nice and relaxing to knit something in front of the telly of an evening.

The following day I went to visit my Aunty, who also had a piece of knitting on a pair of needles. It was the most glorious, fluffy wool and (obviously a sign I'm getting old!) I got very very excited about this scarf she was knitting, so she kindly gave me 2 balls and a pair of needles. Less than 48 hours later, I've already knitted up one ball and started on the second, my repetitive strain injury is back with a vengeance in my right wrist, and I've bid on enough for 3 more scarves on Ebay ... guess what everyone is getting for Christmas next year?

I don't have any room for more hobbies! I don't have time for any more hobbies, but there is something very comforting about sitting in front of the television, watching this scarf grow, and wondering what colour to knit next.

Anyone want to buy a scarf? Could this be my next money-spinner, like the wooden rosebuds and the Peruvian jewellery? Hmmm, bearing in mind the hundreds of wooden rosebuds that are still unsold, and the dozens of pairs of earrings that I still have left over, perhaps I shouldn't have been on those 6 balls of wool ...

Friday night is music night ...

A little shared memory of my Mum in the title. Friday night on Radio 2 has been, for all my living memory anyway, 'music night', with a programme of oh, I don't know, old stuff that your mum listened to. Mum always listened and I always groaned, 'What are you listening to this rubbish for?'

Anyway, Friday night is quite often music night for me because I seem to have gone to quite a few concerts over the past few years, and last night was no exception. Well, it was a concert/ 40th birthday party combined. James was 40 and invited friends and fans to his birthday bash in Woking, with Sailor as the live entertainment - a kind of birthday present to all the guests.

'James? James?' I hear you muttering. 'She's never mentioned a James before.'

James is Sailor's and Georg Kajanus' official biographer, a Sailor fan, and a thoroughly nice chap, and before you switch off, this is not a review of the concert because that belongs on a site for Sailor fans who will appreciate it (not like you philistines!)

I had the day off work (the first of many in the run up to Christmas, as I have several days' leave to take plus overtime hours to use up: I've only got 4 working days before Wednesday 20th, when it's our Christmas lunch and my last day!) and went and got a hair-cut. No-one sniggered in the salon when Lynne asked me, 'What are we going for then?' and I replied, 'Well, you know Lulu?' I must say, it looked fantastic when Lynne had finished with me, although whether or not I can keep the style, I don't know! Lots of straightening and flicking involved and I'm not exactly skilled or patient ... We'll see!

After that I dropped into the beauty salon where my good friend Swims With Crocodiles had topped up my account as a birthday present. A new beauty therapist came out from the back and she was someone I used to work with many, many moons ago. 'My God!' she exclaimed, 'you haven't changed at all!' That was an ego-boost, because it was 15 years and 5 stone ago! So I had a treatment with her and caught up on a lot of news about former colleagues, and booked up another treatment for the day before my last day (I love saying my last day!) then did a bit of shopping and came home to get ready for the concert.

Anyone ever been to Woking? Anyone ever been to Woking on a multi-map internet route-plan? Don't. Seriously, I ended up in a church hall asking directions to this place everyone told me I couldn't miss. Half an hour later I seriously contemplated going back to the church hall and spending the evening there! Eventually I made it and had a several nice surprises - one was Susanne, a German friend who had come over and I hadn't got her e-mail to say she was coming. It was lovely to see her, especially when she said I looked fantastic and so much better than in the summer and had I lost weight? (Music to my ears, even though I hadn't!)

I also spoke briefly to a girl I'd met a couple of times back in the 70s at Sailor concerts. I didn't like her much then and, I discovered, I didn't like her any more when I met her again! She always seemed very hard and the years haven't softened her any. (I know, it's bitchy of me, but this is my blog!) She made some very stupid comments about the band, and that didn't endear her to me either!

I said earlier that I wouldn't go on about the band, so I won't, suffice it to say that they were brilliant - and I didn't know that I would be able to say that honestly again now that Pete has left and Ollie has taken his place as lead singer.

It was wonderful to see the original lead singer Georg, and his partner Barbie, who had come to celebrate James' birthday, and see the band perform for the first time since Georg left about 12 years ago. I'd met them in the summer and it was lovely that they remembered me.

The journey home was as bad as the journey there. I got very clear directions back to the car-park but of course what the person forgot was that the doors through the shopping mall to the carpark were locked by this time. It took me 35 minutes to get to the car because I had to go the long way round. If the mall had been open it would have taken me 10. I then got into the wrong lane and ended up doing another tour of Woking before getting onto the right road for the M3 and then it was plain sailing until a mile from home, when a police van pulled in behind me. I switched the radio off and checked my speed - no, I wasn't speeding. I turned off the main road onto the road that leads to my estate. Police followed at a not-very-discreet distance. They followed me as I turned into 4 different roads and into my own, which is a cul-de-sac. I turned into my drive. They stopped across the road and a young (rather good-looking!) officer got out. I asked if anything was the matter and he apologised if they'd frightened me by following me all that time, but they were on a call to 'an incident' in my road and couldn't help noticing my brake light was out and thought they'd better point it out to me because (wink from officer) the police could stop me for that and I could be fined £30. What a very very nice policeman!

So ... a long-winded story of my Friday night/early Saturday morning. I got in at 2am, too alert and too hungry to sleep, so I had some toast, checked emails etc until 3.30 and then went to bed, 'tired but happy' as all good school essays say.

I decided some time ago that I really couldn't afford to go and see Sailor in Munich in February but ... after seeing them last night ... Where did I put that lottery ticket?

I did it!

I handed in my notice. My soon-to-be-ex line manager didn't seem surprised and we discussed it very calmly. I gave him my letter of confirmation and when he read it his face fell when he got to the final paragraph, which basically put the blame on him - which is where it belongs! If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be leaving. If I'd had a more supportive line manager, who gave a damn about me, my career and my development, I'd have been more than happy to sit here and work for a few hours a day and then play on the internet for the rest of the time and collect what is, after all, a reasonable salary at a place with a good pension, not far from home, good holidays and a very flexible attitude to working hours.

My new job is miles away, the working week is longer, the holidays aren't as good and they don't have flexi-time. The new salary will all be swallowed up in travel costs and I'll need to change my car sooner than I'd planned, so I don't think pointing the finger at my line manager is too unreasonable.

Anyway, what's done is done, and I'm looking forward to a proper job in the new year, one where I don't spend my days trying to find things to do and being hassled about faulty toilet flushes and flickering lights.

I would like to be a fly on the wall, though, when the Big Bosses call my line manager in to talk to him about why I'm leaving ... Who, dear? Me, dear? Vindictive, dear? Yes, dear!

2.5 hours to go ...

... before I hand in my notice. I'm more nervous than the first time I met the boys from Sailor! How silly is that? I'm going to tell a little prat that I'm not taking his crap any more and that's all! Nothing to be afraid of ... is there? It's not like he's going to burst into tears and beg me to stay. Mind you, that would give me the opportunity to laugh in his smelly beardy face ...

Counting down ...

Contract's finally come for my new job and although I haven't had the chance to read through it thoroughly yet, at first glance all looks fine. I can now count down to when I hand in my notice ... and then to when I leave!

It's all very exciting, and I've got that 'end of term' feeling - I think I should be bringing in games for the next few weeks rather than working. I've got the usual crap jobs to do and I really can't be arsed, but I know I will leave everything in totally perfect condition for the next poor sod who joins the company thinking this is going to be a good job.

I wonder if anyone will volunteer to do Children in Need next year? I wonder if anyone will get people together to do the Race for Life? I wonder if there will be a Christmas event? Maybe, although I wouldn't be surprised if all the fun is squashed when I go.

I'm so looking forward to handing in my notice to my total asshole of a line manager and it will be very hard not to simply throw the envelope down on the desk in front of him and tell him to fuck off - I know I'd never do that, but it is soooo tempting!

Anyway, another chapter of my life about to close, and a better one (I hope and pray!) about to start!

I am worth $1,532,070 on HumanForSale.com

Well, next time someone tells me I look a million dollars I'll know I'm having an off day!

Next time the L'Oréal advert tells me, 'You're worth it' I'll say, 'I know!'

Next time I feel low because of something someone says to me at work (not for much longer though!) I'll remember that I'm worth over $1.5 million and start to feel better.

And to my friends who may be wondering - to me, you're priceless!

At last!

I've been offered a job! And I only went for the interview today! I really got on well with the man I'd be working for and felt we had an instant understanding (no, it was not a lust thing - I don't fancy him and I'm probably old enough to be his mother). Before that I had a chat with and HR person and had to trot out the same old answers to the same old questions: 'Can you give me an example of a time when you .... ' It's so hard to answer those questions and sound fresh and enthusiastic when you've answered them a dozen times (more, in my case!) because you don't want to sound as if you've been looking for work for more than 6 months and are getting desperate. I felt a bit deflated after that. Then I had a test on Excel, which I am not good at - just basic add and subtract, really! So I couldn't do all of that, and some of the bits I could do were pure fluke ... At the end of the Excel test I almost said I didn't think there was any point in wasting the European Financial Director's time but I thought, 'I've come this far...'

Anyway, we seemed to hit it off, he said I was one of the strongest candidates he'd seen (he hadn't seen my Excel test results though ...) and that he only had one more person to see. I went home and phoned the agency to tell them how it had gone and they'd just got off the phone with him - he hadn't even seen this afternoon's candidate and he wanted to offer me the job! YIPPEE! The extra salary will be eaten up with petrol costs because it's 17 miles away, and although it's a shorter working week, my day will be longer because of the travel but I don't care, it's a proper job, doing proper work, not just sorting out the post and reporting leaking toilets like I've been doing for the past 18 months.

They want me to start on 2 January. That means I don't have to give my notice in unti 5 December, and I'm on holiday from 21 December until 3 December anyway (offices close, plus I've taken 2 days extra). With the overtime I've done recently, and the holiday I'll have accrued to the end of the year, I could actually finish on 11 December - effectively only 1 week's notice. How funny that would be, considering it takes them a good 3 months to get around to placing an ad for staff ... HA HA HA ! And I wouldn't feel bad AT ALL about leaving certain colleagues to pick up the pieces, seeing as they've been so quick to put me down all the time. If they think they can do the job better or do without me, let them try.

I will miss some of my colleagues. Some, I can't wait to see the back of...

Where does the time go?

I can't believe it's 20 November and I haven't written my blog for almost 10 days. I'd like to say that it's been one long round of pleasure but, of course, it hasn't!

Having had bugger all to do for 18 months at work, everyone is now taking the p**s and piling on the work. I did actually say to one of my managers that it was too little, too late. She looked as if she was about to cry, but so what? I feel like crying there most days!

I've had interviews, seen other jobs to go for, been up to London for a board meeting - which was great, made me feel useful, and gave me an opportunity to do something worthwhile - and we've had Children In Need, which I helped out on. We've raised about £300, which is better than last year's £250. I hope, for the sake of my sanity, that I'm not going to be in the same job when next year's Children in Need comes round!

So, if you value my sanity as much as I do, keep your fingers crossed for me! I have to get another job AND SOON!

Bad manners

Aside from the basic good manners taught me by my ultra-polite parents, I also learned a good deal of etiquette and manners while I lived in France. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on other people who haven't had the benefit of living in France as I did, but surely some manners have nothing to do with geography and everything to do with common courtesy?

Take my (least) favourite person, Mozzie, for instance.

• When you go into someone's office, it's polite to say hello to those who are already there - especially if you share that office with them. It's not polite to waltz in, as Mozzie does, generally late, and only say hello if your line manager is there.
  
• If you're making yourself a cup of coffee, it's polite to offer to make one for other people in the room. It's not polite to wait until one person (me!) is out of the office for a nano-second to grab the tray and rush to the kitchen and then say, 'Oh, you weren't here, I didn't know what you wanted.'
  
• It's not polite to question people about everything you overhear them say.
  
• It is polite to ask your office-mates if it's OK to open or close a window.

Am I being unreasonable to expect a certain level of common courtesy from someone who is 21? I might expect this kind of behaviour from oiks in their last year at school, but not from someone who is sharing an office with me.

I think I probably am being unreasonable, but it's hard to keep a grip and stay calm when every single day is a struggle against incompetence, thoughtlessness and downright rudeness.

I may not be a celebrity but GET ME OUT OF HERE!

City College interview

I feel as if I'm on some kind of soap-opera-style game-show! I had an interview at City College this lunchtime as PA to the Principal. What a joke! The little boy who interviewed me (an HR assistant, not even an HR manager) looked like a teenager in his dad's suit - you know, the collar too big and the tie knotted too big, and he'd spent far too much time on his hair getting it to lie flat - and he read all the interview questions from a sheet of paper. I kept wanting to stop and say, 'Did you get all that?' because he was writing pretty slowly.

After half an hour with the little boy, a little girl came to collect me to take me through the typing test. She kicked off by saying, 'D'you wan' the loo first?' and then, 'We've got anuvver person comin' in for in'erview so she's gonna do the test at the same time as you.'

How unprofessional! Candidates aren't supposed to meet each other! Anyway, the next candidate didn't turn up so we got started. Little girl said, 'It don' ma'er 'bout akracy, we just wanna see how fast you can type, right, so don' bovver wiv c'rectin' anyfink.'

After my ten-minute typing test (which they'd cribbed from Southampton City Council) I was escorted back across the building site that is City College to reception, where I handed in my visitor's pass, and then went to the loo before leaving. Leaning against the basins, fat belly showing, was a cross between Vikki Pollard and Lauren, talking on her mobile 'phone. I went into the cubicle and sat down, and this is what I heard:

'Did you phone my mobile phone? Did you though? No, but, did you phone my mobile phone? Did you text me? Did you text my mobile phone? Did you though? No, but did you text me? Did you phone me? Did you phone my mobile phone? Did you though? Did you call me on my mobile? Did you though? Did you?'

I'm glad I was sitting on the loo. Even if I hadn't been, I'd have wet myself anyway.

I don't think I want that job. It's all just a bit too naff for me!

Interview update

I had a great interview on Thursday with a very dynamic, youngish director at B&Q and the job sounded exactly what I was looking for. I felt that we could work very well together and he seemed as enthusiastic about my CV as I was about the job. You can imagine how disappointed I was when the agency rang me the following day to say that B&Q had asked them to stress that I was absolutely the best candidate for the job, but they needed someone to start almost immediately so they could have a handover from the out-going PA, and as I had to give 4 weeks' notice, they offered the job to the 2nd best candidate, who could start on Monday.

So, while it's nice to know they had such a high opinion of me, it doesn't really help me in my current situation here at the University, where it's getting harder and harder to remain civil, let alone cheerful!

I'm living up to my dwarf persona - Grumpy - a lot today!

Spoke too soon

I spoke too soon about nice things happening to me. Today has been a real pain in the backside. Having been told to cancel our Christmas lunch, and having apologized profusely to the hotel, the Director suddenly took a vote in a whole team meeting and announced that we would be having Christmas lunch at this particular hotel after all ... so I was back on the 'phone, grovelling again. I pointed out to the director that I'd been told to cancel - no apology from him, just a flap of his hand and an irritated expression. I am so fed up of being here and being the one everybody kicks!

I didn't want to organise Christmas again this year anyway, I told my line manager I didn't want to volunteer, and he just shrugged and mumbled and I somehow ended up doing it. I just hope I get a new job before the Christmas lunch ... or that I can stand up at lunchtime and announce my departure. That would be fun!

HUMBUG HUMBUG HUMBUG

Nice things do sometimes happen to me ...

... for all my ranting you could be forgiven for thinking that life is just one long round of irritation (well, 99% of the time it is!) however, sometimes nice things do happen and yesterday was one of those rare nice days :

1. The awful Mozzie has 3 days off so I am spared her irritating whine
2. I put an old printer on Freecycle and a nice elderly man came to pick it up yesterday evening for his grand-daughter, who's just started her nursing degree, so it's gone to a good home and cleared a bit more space in the house
3. I GOT A TAX REBATE! So I can pay a few more bills

I suppose that's my quota of nice things for the rest of the year, but there's only about 9 weeks to go, so I think I can put up with it. Something else nice in the form of a new job would be welcome, too ...