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Friday, January 9th, 2004
Ah, Friday.
The boss, having been off sick all week has made an unexpected appearance today, red-nosed and all gravely voice, coughs and wheezes. I didn't think to see her until next week, but it turns out she's off training next week and thought she'd better make an appearance.
So I get another week as my own boss, which is nice, followed by a potential fortnight deliberating whether or not someone is a villain or not in the august confines of the Old Bailey. That should be interesting.
In the meantime, interest for all things work remains at a seasonal low; I suppose this is a mild form of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or maybe it is because I am a lazy git. A little from column A, a little from column B, perhaps?
Oh, who am I kidding? It's all column B.
Every Winter I want to hibernate until Spring, rising only occasionally for a proper meal and a pee. Every Summer I want to siesta during the heat, rising only occasionally for a proper meal, a pee and a shower. This means that I am only really productive in the second half of April and early May, and again for a few weeks at the end of September and early October.
I was born to be of the idle rich.
I have cracked the idle bit.
The boss, having been off sick all week has made an unexpected appearance today, red-nosed and all gravely voice, coughs and wheezes. I didn't think to see her until next week, but it turns out she's off training next week and thought she'd better make an appearance.
So I get another week as my own boss, which is nice, followed by a potential fortnight deliberating whether or not someone is a villain or not in the august confines of the Old Bailey. That should be interesting.
In the meantime, interest for all things work remains at a seasonal low; I suppose this is a mild form of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or maybe it is because I am a lazy git. A little from column A, a little from column B, perhaps?
Oh, who am I kidding? It's all column B.
Every Winter I want to hibernate until Spring, rising only occasionally for a proper meal and a pee. Every Summer I want to siesta during the heat, rising only occasionally for a proper meal, a pee and a shower. This means that I am only really productive in the second half of April and early May, and again for a few weeks at the end of September and early October.
I was born to be of the idle rich.
I have cracked the idle bit.
Ah, Friday.
The boss, having been off sick all week has made an unexpected appearance today, red-nosed and all gravely voice, coughs and wheezes. I didn't think to see her until next week, but it turns out she's off training next week and thought she'd better make an appearance.
So I get another week as my own boss, which is nice, followed by a potential fortnight deliberating whether or not someone is a villain or not in the august confines of the Old Bailey. That should be interesting.
In the meantime, interest for all things work remains at a seasonal low; I suppose this is a mild form of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or maybe it is because I am a lazy git. A little from column A, a little from column B, perhaps?
Oh, who am I kidding? It's all column B.
Every Winter I want to hibernate until Spring, rising only occasionally for a proper meal and a pee. Every Summer I want to siesta during the heat, rising only occasionally for a proper meal, a pee and a shower. This means that I am only really productive in the second half of April and early May, and again for a few weeks at the end of September and early October.
I was born to be of the idle rich.
I have cracked the idle bit.
The boss, having been off sick all week has made an unexpected appearance today, red-nosed and all gravely voice, coughs and wheezes. I didn't think to see her until next week, but it turns out she's off training next week and thought she'd better make an appearance.
So I get another week as my own boss, which is nice, followed by a potential fortnight deliberating whether or not someone is a villain or not in the august confines of the Old Bailey. That should be interesting.
In the meantime, interest for all things work remains at a seasonal low; I suppose this is a mild form of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) or maybe it is because I am a lazy git. A little from column A, a little from column B, perhaps?
Oh, who am I kidding? It's all column B.
Every Winter I want to hibernate until Spring, rising only occasionally for a proper meal and a pee. Every Summer I want to siesta during the heat, rising only occasionally for a proper meal, a pee and a shower. This means that I am only really productive in the second half of April and early May, and again for a few weeks at the end of September and early October.
I was born to be of the idle rich.
I have cracked the idle bit.
Anniversary
Friday, January 9th, 2004 03:08 pmI have just realised that this journal is one year old today.
Blimey.
Blimey.
Anniversary
Friday, January 9th, 2004 03:08 pmI have just realised that this journal is one year old today.
Blimey.
Blimey.
Politically Incorrect
Friday, January 9th, 2004 04:44 pmMate of mine recounted a trip up to Covent Garden this Lunch time.
He saw one of those tables that are set up by anti animal vivisectionists...you know the sort - those that have pictures of beagles with 20 Benson and Hedges stuffed up every orifice, small kittens being given electro-shock therapy and Monkeys with their craniums cut open having live electrodes placed into exposed brain matter....
He signed the petition and asked the guy on the stall, "Oi mate, do you know where I can get one of those Radio Controlled Monkeys ?"
He saw one of those tables that are set up by anti animal vivisectionists...you know the sort - those that have pictures of beagles with 20 Benson and Hedges stuffed up every orifice, small kittens being given electro-shock therapy and Monkeys with their craniums cut open having live electrodes placed into exposed brain matter....
He signed the petition and asked the guy on the stall, "Oi mate, do you know where I can get one of those Radio Controlled Monkeys ?"
Politically Incorrect
Friday, January 9th, 2004 04:44 pmMate of mine recounted a trip up to Covent Garden this Lunch time.
He saw one of those tables that are set up by anti animal vivisectionists...you know the sort - those that have pictures of beagles with 20 Benson and Hedges stuffed up every orifice, small kittens being given electro-shock therapy and Monkeys with their craniums cut open having live electrodes placed into exposed brain matter....
He signed the petition and asked the guy on the stall, "Oi mate, do you know where I can get one of those Radio Controlled Monkeys ?"
He saw one of those tables that are set up by anti animal vivisectionists...you know the sort - those that have pictures of beagles with 20 Benson and Hedges stuffed up every orifice, small kittens being given electro-shock therapy and Monkeys with their craniums cut open having live electrodes placed into exposed brain matter....
He signed the petition and asked the guy on the stall, "Oi mate, do you know where I can get one of those Radio Controlled Monkeys ?"