January 17th, 2006

Photo - leaves

Too tired.  Words = effort.

Sunday = evening spent at Paul's watching Team America: World Police (I've had "I'm So Ronery" in my head ever since...) and some of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid until exhaustion set in.  Moving videos is exhausting.

Monday = watched all of series 3 of Little Britain in one go, had nice chicken-tonight thing with philadelphia-flavoured mash.

Today = for some reason, utter exhaustion.  I didn't get to work til 10.00 and left at 5.15 when I'd lost the will to live.  Yesterday everyone abandoned me while they went off to 'help' Cynthia in a meeting at SHAO that only she'd been invited to, and as a result of that meeting they've decided to rearrange the entire office and move all down my end of it so everyone's sitting together.  Let it be noted that they didn't actually tell me the outcome of the meeting either yesterday when they came back or this morning... but whatever, it's being mentioned in my supervision.

You'd think common sense would dictate that if you're going to move to a different desk, you'd have to take your hard-drive - and hence your CPU - with you, wouldn't you?  Not in our office, apparently.  I spent some portion of the day unplugging and replugging Amanda's CPU and printer (because obviously the colour-coded leads on the back are too complicated to put together...) and will probably have to do the same for Cynthia and Sandra's tomorrow, as that's our designated Tidying Up Day (filing cabinet included...)

Sandra has managed to piss me off twice today in the space of 20 minutes.  During the discussion about where people were going to sit, she said, referring to the desk directly opposite and facing mine, "I'm not being funny, but I don't want to sit there."  Er, okay.  Fine by me; I'd rather sit opposite Amanda anyway.  But honestly.  What is it?  Do I smell?  Am I so hideous to look at?  Geeze.  (She'll hate it in the summer when she's getting blinded in the late afternoon - which I've told her three times without her registering I was talking, so on her own head be it.  I've stopped trying to be helpful where Sandra's concerned.  She Knows Best, after all.)

And then, in a discussion about who was checking my clocking-in card, she managed to do it again.  Amanda and Cynthia are meant to swap theirs, and Sandra and I are meant to swap ours. We managed this for one entire week before they all managed to forget about me - and not for want of suggesting it, either.  So, midway through checking Cynthia's card today, Sandra realised something was amiss and Amanda explained again who was meant to be checking whose card.

Cynthia: "So do you want to check Becky's then-"
Sandra: "Nah, I'll just check yours, Cynth..."

Charming.  Okay, maybe it's not the smell. Maybe I just have cooties.

Anyway, that's also being brought up in my supervision, as the past two days I've been feeling like a second-rate employee who isn't part of the so-called 'team'.  I was tempted to offer to work half-time at SHAO in the absence of their full-time typist, if only because it'll get me out of the office, away from Sandra, for 2.5 days... but I'll probably end up killing Hannah within the hour.  We'll have to see, I suppose.

I think I'll do a bit of embroidery before I collapse from exhaustion.  I nearly fell asleep at my desk earlier...