Right Here, Right Now

I have discovered the joys of Podcasting.

dis_connection was going on about The Now Show, which I haven't thought about one way or the other in over a year but suddenly realised that I found funny. So, since he was obliging enough to include the link to the Podcast of last week's show, I decided to download it. Or rather, subscribe to the Podcast. But since I didn't have time this morning to have a listen on iTunes, I shunted it over to my iPod and had a listen there. Which resulted in me sitting on the bus on the way to Finchley Central, scaring other passengers by apparently randomly giggling like an idiot. Mitch Benn definitely has his moments, but Marcus Brigstocke is my all-time fave. I love a man who gives good rant.

Buh. My nasal passages still hurt like hell and I very much did not want to get out of bed this morning. I mean, at all. There need to be more Bank Holidays, damnit. dodgyhoodoo wants me to check out whether I can take some holiday at the end of June sometime, but June seems to be booked up. Michael's got two weeks and Angela's got a week at the end of June. I might be able to take off when Angela's off in the last week, but I want to wait until this stupid mid-May review thing is over with. After all, I don't want to take holiday in June if I'm in shit at work in May. It doesn't seem right, somehow. But we'll see. Review is coming (probably next week).

I need to do something about my Sims 2, which keeps on crashing. Usually this is in the Create a Sim section, "Make a Baby" option with this one stupid hairstyle, which apparently has teen through adult but no damn child mesh, so it goes through this godsawful crankcrankcrank thing to generate a random hairstyle for a child (blonde, for some reason, even on the brown, black or red recolours) and the extra demands on my substandard RAM causes the whole damn thing to crash and burn like the fucking Hindenburg. So not that hairdo, then. Shame; I like that hairdo.

Tonight I plan to do little but faff; we have an Invasion ep to watch but I would like to make sure that my Sims 2 does not crash and burn as a matter of course but merely does so in the face of the sequence of events outlined above so I think I'll be doing that tonight. Tomorrow I need to fend for myself in the matter of dinner because dodgyhoodoo is in meetings. Then Friday arrives, thank the gods, and then we have weekend. Yay! Except the weekend needs to be now, please.

Return of the Ham-Fisted

Somebody please save meeeeee...

Michael said definitively that Ham-Fisted Editor was not going to be in the office today. Notnotnot. And yet who barges in at around eleven o'clock this morning and proceeds to make my life hell? You guessed it.

Today the mess was all about Letters to the Editor. "Oh, I want a separate folder for the Letters to the Editor in my 'to deal with' basket so that I can keep track of them," he says. Apparently, he has great difficulty keeping track of a single pile of hard copies that I put on his desk every time I get one! But okay, if that's what he wants, fine. We make a folder for the letters to the editor text. A single folder, not the 'one folder per letter' that he originally seemed to want because hello? OVERKILL. So now his 'to deal with' basket is even more of a pain in the arse for me to maintain and he gets what he wants. Fine.

But how can I get mad, when he's helpful enough to print out two different copies of his list of things he needs me to do, while still working on the document so that there's going to be a third version on the way? *snarl*

And I will never ever get used to the fact that he will not look for his own damn files! I'm across the room putting stamps on post and all of a sudden there he is! Standing between me and my desk (and the filing cabinets)! Saying, "Could you get me the paper copy of [author]'s paper?" So I head for my computer, thinking that he wouldn't bother me while I was quite obviously busy if it wasn't on my computer or somehow hard to get to. But oh no; just as I sit down, he says, "Oh, there should be a folder for it somewhere..." I turn. He is leaning on the filing cabinet. And waits a good twenty seconds between my getting to the filing cabinet and actually moving out of my way so I could get into it!

Not to mention the endless bloody ping-pong of "What's Going On With That Document?" that always ensues when he's in, to wit:

Him: "What happened to [that document]?"
Me: "I forwarded it to you a month ago. There was a copy on your desk when I was off sick last week."
Him: "Ah. Well, could you get me a hard copy? I don't seem to have it."
Me: *grumblesnarlprint* "There you go."
(Note: printout includes the email I forwarded to him, dated 10 April. I am not stupid.)

Him: "What's going on with [that document]?"
Me: "We accepted it six weeks ago."
Him: "Oh, did we? Oh, alright then."
(You think I'm shitting you. I wish I were.)

Him: "Right; is there anything else?"
Me: "Yes, actually; did you see that document that I put in your 'to deal with' basket last time you were in about six weeks ago because we had both decisions in, which you've left there the last two times you've been through the office?"
Him: "Oh yes; I've dealt with that now."
My inner monologue: **next time you bitch at someone about the slow decision-making process is all down to admin needing to be replaced with computers, I am going to shove that particular folder right up your arse, you hypocritical, buck-passing, inbred chinless wonder**

I remind myself that I need this job and pray for a lottery win.