But I'd just go "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek."
There have been some really wonderful things in the last few days. Lovely, wonderful things involving exciting talented people, thrilling drinks and so on.
And then other stuff, which finds me in the Spar shop, buying fags and crying quietly.
Sadly, I can't really talk about the other stuff, because that involves talking in detail about office politics. Which is
a) boring.
b) really awkward without naming names.
Mind you, it's getting increasingly hard not to talk about the person who's pureeing my working life -- they've transcended reality. Not talking about them is like a Bond movie without a villain.
But I won't mention them. At all. In any way.
Oh, well, allright then. Just a little.
I came back from a trip to London to find people had been told I'd left, and my office full of filing cabinet.
And then... oh, but no. I just can't.
4 comments:
I'm currently working on a mental death ray to wipe out some publicists who've annoyed me. Once it's ready, you're welcome to use it.
oh - i so could have used that ray a few years ago.
The only thing more useless than a rubbish publicist is a fondue set without forks.
Oh go on. In my experience workplace villains rarely recognise themselves as such, and indeed the principle one in your bit has previously posited themselves rather laughably as friend of the working person. They would probably assume you were talking about someone else, no matter how specific you chose to be.
For what it's worth, James. You have loud obnoxious allies. Some of us with quite fat bottoms.
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