Friday, September 26, 2003 Up and Down A fucked up few weeks hit their low point on Tuesday: an exhausting, faffy, frustrating, scream-inducing day at work. Got home in a foul mood, exhausted, missing some one I wished was there to tell how shit it all was and basically cried myself to sleep.
But that explosion seemed to clear my sytem out ... Wednesday was a weird fun day that left me with a huge smile on my face.
Had a biz lunch at work so no jeans, t-shirt and chain ... had to wear a suit. So a day of "Job interview?" jokes, accusations of "selling out to management". Did I get any one saying "You really suit being dressed in a suit" ... did I hell!
The lunch was with a bunch of Japanese execs. Lots of bowing, painfully polite small talk, swapping business cards, all conversation going through interpreters even though they spoke (and we KNEW they spoke, and THEY knew we knew they spoke) better English than their interpreters. Utterly bizarre. But managed to get through it without bursting out laughing or telling my favourite after-dinner jokes. But I was biting my tongue so much, it hurt.
After a few more "class traitor" jokes (hell, I hadn't polished my DMs, for gawd's sake!!!) , headed for town. Barcode has had a really bad idea of selling cocktail shots for £1. Ran into a bunch of mates by chance, and we hit the drinks menu ... after a tequila, something (dunno what) with strawberry liqueur in it, and a Long Slow Comfortable Sofa against the Wall etc etc staggered home.
Had got a free lunch in a foreign language, had been chatting all night feeling so out of place suited-and-booted in Barcode, met mates I hadn't chatted to in ages and even managed to talk to someone I had been convinced for ages was a total arsehole and turned out not to be.
"One sees a picture, reads an anecdote, starts a casual fancy, and thinks to tell it to this person in preference to every other - the person is gone whom it would have particularly suited. It won't do for another." 3:02 AM
Monday, September 22, 2003 Dib Dib Dib Me and work mates have been working our proverbials off on a new project at work for the last three months. Only problem is as soon as we show we can get over one set of new hurdles, the powers that be reckon "Oh they managed that, we can try something else now!"and slap another new "good idea" on us.
For an arch-capitalist organisation we seem awfuly addicted to Trotsky's permanent revolution.
And in return ... pay rise? Yeah right! Time off? Do me a favour! In return for wrecking our nerves and social lives we officially have BROWNIE POINTS!!
So what exactly is the exchange rate for a brownie point? How many to the pound? Are they rising against the euro? If you get enough can you get some luncheon vouchers? Can you even tot them up like a schoolboy's gold stars? Personally I'm hoping for a wood craft badge, or something for rubbing two boy scouts together to start a fire or sumfink. Unfortunately, doubt we'd even get a complimentary Starbucks coffee with them. What we have effectively got is a pat on the back from our betters.
Brownie points? Puh-lease! I only even managed one day in the cubs, for gawd's sake ... though maybe the brownies might have suited me more ... Gin Gan Gooley Gooley Golley ... I'm writhing along on the chest of a slave and the cum is in my eye.
I'm gonna start calling my desk head my Sixer and the editor can be Akela and I shall be wearing a woggle to work in future.