Bring the wheelie bags...

[caddyman]

One of the things about SpaceFlex (our new office seating system: see LJ entries passim) is that with a few exceptions you never know from one day to the next who will be sitting where. From an operational point of view this can be very inconvenient and/or annoying when you are trying to chase down a colleague for a discussion about something.

From time to time, we get people from other divisions encroaching on our designated space because they are over subscribed against the seven spaces for every ten staff members rule we have these days. Sometimes, we encroach on theirs. Sometimes we all encroach on another division entirely and at other times we all give up and just grumble.

Today is one of the days on which our neighbouring division is in the territorial ascendant and they have annexed a pair of provinces desks on the borders of our empire. This means that there are people we haven’t seen before in the vicinity. One of these chaps is a dead spit for Jon Pertwee, though he is not wearing a velvet smoking jacket, cape or frilly shirt. Regenerated Time Lords end up working in the Civil Service for eternity. No wonder he doesn’t look happy. No wonder they don’t want to regenerate. I wonder where the others work and if they have a club?