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And another weekend draws to a close with the wonderful prospect of work in the morning.
I could really use a large, nay humongous lottery win right now. For some reason the attractions of trolling into the office for 5 days of consecutive tedium are beginning to pall. Dunno why.
Except that on Friday we are having our Christmas lunch. No, that's not a mistake. We're having our Christmas lunch.
You see, Ministers' efforts to justify their position involves a great deal of tinkering with complicated but working systems. That has meant that for two years on the trot the Christmas party season hasn't happened for our division. So we're having it this week. And I doubt I can be arsed to go. For some reason we're going to a Greek place.
I'm not a fan of Greek food. And any race that can ruin good wine withturpentine wood resin (or whatever) and pass it off as a delicacy is clearly unhinged.
And of course, the bloody office has changed its staff reporting system again. So on Tuesday I have to go on a compulsory training thingummy despite having carefully divested myself of all staff management responsibilities. Staff are a hassle. Much better to do it yourself.
Still, the weekend's not been bad. I spent Saturday with friends in Burgess Hill which at least allowed me the joy of seeing the early Spring Sussex countryside. We listened to music, talked bollocks and watched Dog Soldiers on DVD.
Now there's a movie. British squaddies against werewolves in a remote part of Scotland. Splendid and with believable interaction between the squaddies, too. None of this gung-ho malarkey from Hollywood's finest. And they even managed to have the SA-80s jam at critical moments. Now there's a scriptwriter who's done his homework.
Oh well. That's that.
Another week in prospect.
Marvellous.
I could really use a large, nay humongous lottery win right now. For some reason the attractions of trolling into the office for 5 days of consecutive tedium are beginning to pall. Dunno why.
Except that on Friday we are having our Christmas lunch. No, that's not a mistake. We're having our Christmas lunch.
You see, Ministers' efforts to justify their position involves a great deal of tinkering with complicated but working systems. That has meant that for two years on the trot the Christmas party season hasn't happened for our division. So we're having it this week. And I doubt I can be arsed to go. For some reason we're going to a Greek place.
I'm not a fan of Greek food. And any race that can ruin good wine with
And of course, the bloody office has changed its staff reporting system again. So on Tuesday I have to go on a compulsory training thingummy despite having carefully divested myself of all staff management responsibilities. Staff are a hassle. Much better to do it yourself.
Still, the weekend's not been bad. I spent Saturday with friends in Burgess Hill which at least allowed me the joy of seeing the early Spring Sussex countryside. We listened to music, talked bollocks and watched Dog Soldiers on DVD.
Now there's a movie. British squaddies against werewolves in a remote part of Scotland. Splendid and with believable interaction between the squaddies, too. None of this gung-ho malarkey from Hollywood's finest. And they even managed to have the SA-80s jam at critical moments. Now there's a scriptwriter who's done his homework.
Oh well. That's that.
Another week in prospect.
Marvellous.