It was mostly a quiet day, luckily.
She saunted (literally) in at about 1.30, didn't even say 'Hello', and then proceeded to go into the POs' office to explain to then where she'd been. From what I could ascertain, she'd had company last night ("we only watched television!", apparently) and didn't get to bed until late. Yeah. That's a good excuse. Yeah, okay, I've done that a few times, but I'm a disillusioned and fucked off temp and it's my right to be lazy; she's a permanent worker. Moreover, she made a big song and dance about us sharing the admin rota this coming fortnight.
She was minuting at 2.00 in Kings Heath, so she fucked off again shortly afterwards and was basically in the office for about 15 minutes.
Paul urged me to complain, but it's not worth it, really.
Then the agency phoned to say my leave hadn't been confirmed so I had to send the sodding holiday form off again and put a snotty clarification on the cover sheet so they know exactly what I'm doing, and whilst I was doing so, I had Natasha saying how sorry she'd be to see me go. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you here," she said. "You're really good. I don't think people tell you that enough."
Yeah. And maybe if people had told me that more often - not when they're disciplining me for stupid reasons, not when it comes to the clinch and I'm threatening to leave - then I'd be staying. Maybe if they'd damn well proved it by giving me the job permanently already and not under-appreciated everything I've done for the Department, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be going. Food for thought.
Anyway. Tonight I am cooking cheesy-garlic-Italian-herb-mash with bolognese. There's too much beef for the sauce, and the potatoes are bloody enormous. This should be interesting.