I finished my last post with the well-worn phrase "Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck!" and it seems apt to start this one with it.
I get up at 4:40AM this morning, same as usual; shower, hair-wash, dress, grab my stuff and head off on the three and a half hour commute to Westminster.
So far, so hoopy …
Getting to work I find I cannot log in to my computer.
As more people trail in, we discover that the whole office has the same problem.
That's okay. Occasionally we get a server glitch that locks us out and all we need to do is wait until IT start arriving (usually after nine) and get someone to put it right.
So the atmosphere in the office is jolly. Lattes are drunk, croissants are consumed and bitchy gossip is exchanged.
Angela arrives and finds me waiting outside the IT department with the news.
"Hokay." She smiles. "No problem."
A few minutes later and she is running from IT offices to server rooms, to my office, to the other departments and more of her lazy-assed cohorts are drafted in as they arrive.
As time drags and nerds run around shrieking and flapping like someone set fire to a battery chicken farm, it is becoming apparent that this is going to be one of those days.
After a longish while it turns out that this is not the sort of problem that will go away if you simply throw nerds at it (fun though nerd-throwing can be).
Bugger all round that. Angela lets slip it could be all day at least before things are up and running, so those of us who can work from home skedaddle pronto.
Which is why you find me just arrived home and ranty at one in the afternoon, having been up for almost eight and a half hours and having achieved precisely zip.
Paperless office? My fat, hairy arse!
13 comments:
There's a bright side. You've done the 7 hours travelling that you would have done anyway but you have an afternoon at home. Bonus.
Well said Pea. Take advantage of it and have one of those soaks you mentioned!
Bonus, but I have a sore bottom from the crappy train, Pea.
I wish, Prudence. I've now got to put in a full day's work and it's already half-past lunchtime. Rats.
I don't know if your arse is hairy, but it certainly isn't fat.
Another bonus--aren't the trains less crowded and quiet in the afternoons than in the evenings?
OK, so maybe there isn't a bright side.
Never mind Bro, with your crappy memory you will have forgotten about it in a few hours, then you can go upstairs and put on your slippers.
Forecast is shite for Saturday so I may pass on my fishing trip and meet for breakfast.
Did you meet someone new on the train? Because this would make such a great story if you did.
"Everything was going wrong at work, so I left for home and took the early train. And there she was...this goddess of love smiling up at me..."
So, was there a goddess? I really need there to be a goddess today.
i'm catching up on reading, sugar! what a week already, eh? let's hope it gets better!
(*hugs* for stopping by and leaving a note!)
Looking at the glass half-empty, eh?:D But I understand how you feel. I'd rather be productive all day, than be unproductive for a few hours and feel deflated to do anything else.
joy
The Goddess In You
Norwich Daily Photo
Your Love Coach
Fuuny how we can't even function these days when the computers go down.
That 3 hour commute sounds like a killer.
~Oswegan
Robyn: where long-distance commuting is concerned, there are no silver linings; every cloud is a cloud.
Phil: I forgot what I was going to say …
Maria: I met lots of really annoying pee-butt people shouting into mobile phones. If there was a Goddess amongst them, it was Shiva; Goddess of Destruction.
Hey, Savannah: How's the second year of blogging going?
Joy: I got back home, started work and the village has been plagued by power cuts all afternoon and part of this evening. Crap on it.
And my comments are still disappearing into your spam filter.
Oswegan. It's usually around seven hours a day total (if things run on time), but going all the way to London then turning round and coming all the way home again on hard, uncomfortable train seats has given me buttock trauma.
As long as your arse didn't have to go paperless, you're ahead of me today. That's right, the office staff bathroom had no toilet paper.
The worst thing - and i know you will have thought of it and agonised, forgotten it, put on your slippers and are now cursing me for pointing out again - is that you could have stayed in bed! In that snuggly, warm, cosy spot that you dragged out of at 4; oh dear. Ring the IT woman at home before you treck off this morning, Dive. Oh...oops too late now at 9.30 isn't it. Ah. That duvet... he he.
T: Yikes! That is truly heinous (and very, very funny).
Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee …
Lynn: That is indeed the worst part. And as IT don't start work until nine, I'm working from home today. In fact, as I have a meeting in Norwich tomorrow I won't be going in again until Friday.
Woohoo!
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