Big Eyes, Small Brain

This one's grepped from an e-mail forward that came to the woman I'm temping for. I thought it'd make a good LJ thing. ( ”So:” )

In any case, we should have broadband back at the house at some point. This will be a good thing because, no matter how good the tech is in this place (18” flatscreen monitors, split keyboard, DVD writer for some unknown reason), it’s not really the right kind of set-up for anything but a quick browse. My boss sits behind me in a glass-walled office, y’see, and never seems to leave the office for lunch. However, right now he’s running around like a blue-arsed fly trying to get ready for a flight to Glasgow, so I’ll at least have some alleviation from the sheer boredom.

Well, look – it’s a little silly, all things considered. We’re not getting anywhere near the mail volume for logging that I would have expected, so all I really have to do is read this stupid Framework for Safety document and make a table of all the action points so no one else has to read it. I don’t blame them for not wanting to, either – it’s been written by engineers, and the grammar makes me want to hit things. So rather than just making a table of the action items, I’m also having to rewrite the stupid action items so that they make the remotest bit of sense. Argh.

Anyway, you can’t fill a day with that, so I wind up poking around the quizzes and forwards received by the girl who normally sits at this computer. Hence the quizzy thing. Feh.

At least I have something with which to occupy my mind today, even if I have to spend most of said day reading bad grammar and turning it into good grammar. I’m running that BESM campaign tonight, so I can spend most of the day having a good think about how I’m going to set this up when all three of the characters I’ve got are loners. Well, that lot know how to roleplay and metagame, so I’m sure we’ll be alright.

Whoops

Yesterday I had to book a flight to Glasgow for one of the gentlemen for whom I am providing secretarial support. Actually, I had to book him two flights, on either side of lunchtime. (Apparently he's a bit of an indecisive nonce and wants to be sure he can get on a flight when he misses the first one anyway.) When the booking was done, I forwarded him a copy of the confirmation e-mail I received so that he would know what times he had to choose from. He said he'd take the later one. Flight leaves around quarter past three, arriving at quarter to five. Fine; I check him in online and make sure he's in an aisle seat at his own request, and he's all set.

...Then I hear him talking about getting a 3:30 train to the airport. For a flight that leaves fifteen minutes earlier than that. I mull this over briefly, double-check the confirmation e-mail that I kept in case of such a monumental fuck-up (yep; leaves about quarter past three, lands at quarter to five) and then approach Mr Boss-Man. Then I explain to him as nicely as I can that he has misread the arrival time as the departure time.

Ten minutes later, after dashing around his office like a man possessed, making frantic phone calls and chucking paper around, he throws his suit coat on and heads for the door at great speed. As he passes my desk, he stops and asks, "I do have the right airport, right?"

Good man. A little daft, but good man.

And so goes another day in a world where professional people have brains that travel entirely independent of their bodies, and call them "secretaries".

High School: Paranormal

It was really only supposed to be a one-off. Not only was it not a one-off, the first installment ran a lot longer than I thought it was going to. I figure a three-parter will cover it, but still, I hoped for a one-off! Anyway, after an edit to include the BESM campaign background (for anyone I may have confused), here's the story.

( Welcome to high school. It's as bad as you remember it. )

And we have broadband. Yay! And I have to meet the lady who's taken over representing me at the agency that got me the permanent job interview. That's tomorrow, and it also serves as prep for said perm job interview (Friday). Agh.