T'eyla Minh (teylaminh) wrote,
T'eyla Minh
teylaminh

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Bah.

My PMT comes earlier every month, I think...

So, this morning I made myself late for work by making tuna sandwiches, which included making the tuna mayonnaise first. I had the crust of the bread and a yoghurt, and managed to leave it on the bloody chair in the bedroom. Annoying.

Which meant I had to draw out a tenner I could've afforded not to, in order to buy some bloody lunch. And managed to miss the 101 by about ten seconds, so had to wait for another one.

And there's some kind of almighty cock up with a Review this afternoon which isn't our fault, but which Shafiq will doubtless blame us for anyway, or blame the new Social Worker who has unfortunately been allocated the case and terrify her.

AND, for some reason, Sandra is in today despite being apparently part-time now. I almost said, "It's Thursday; what the Hell are you doing here?" but restrained myself.

Only three more weeks to go. Only three more weeks to go.

But you know the worst thing? I do actually like my job. I do. I like the majority of my colleagues, and I like the work, and I'm fucking good at my job. I just can't take the bitching any more, or the disorganisation or the constant fuck-ups that we're expected to sort out. If I thought any of it would change, I'd stay, I'd hold out until it got better... but I know it's not going to, so now seems as good a time to leave as any.

Plus, despite the praise from my managers and from other, higher up colleagues likes Chairs, Sandra manages to knock all the pride out of me with a single glance or accusing question. I don't have to put up with that sort of shit, and I'm not going to.

In terms of revenge, Lisa's idea was to go up to her on my last day and say in a level, calm voice: "You will always be stupid", to play on all of her obvious anxieties about my superior intelligence. Which I would gladly do, but I'm not brave enough. So instead I might deliver an anonymous card to her house, with pretty flowers on the front, with it written inside. Possibly in Paul's handwriting.

Although I do still like the idea of putting sour milk opened in her desk drawer...

Ah, well, off to pastures new on 18th September. I'm nervous as Hell, and will probably spend the first week absolutely hating it (as I did here) but with any luck it'll work out fine. Any place where Sandra is not will be better than here, anyway.

In other news, the storm was quite cool last night. I saw a little fork of lightning at one point, and did have the window open briefly until it got too cold. Talking of which, it's freezing in here, and I'm wearing my coat. (Another thing I won't miss will be having to type in gloves in the middle of winter...) However, I refuse to put the heating on yet as a matter of principle - it's frelling August! Besides, apparently it's meant to warm up again by September.

Thank God it's a bank holiday weekend. Despite having three weeks off, I'm still exhausted...
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