Signs and portents

I really think this sign should be prominently displayed as we travel into work. In fact, it should be a pop-up as we enter our workplace.

Sometimes, I wonder, how I have managed to stay out of jail. If I had to give in to my impulses of homicidal tendencies my entire team I have been working for for the past two years would be obliterated. To smithereens, never to be found again.

Take today, for instance. Only one example mind...We have a general email list to all other property companies in the UK. It is accessible to everyone on our server, if you know where to look. And even if you didn’t, it is piss-ant easy to find because it is stored in a very logical place.

So one of my AD’s (associate director) from now on known as the Scottish Pansy, decides he wants the updated list on his computer. No worries, Liz will show him how to do it. Half and hour later, because he doesn’t want to relinquish his seat so I can do it, and because he wants to do it himself with his bizarre little monkey hands/Gollum fingers, and he has no technological skills at all, we still haven’t managed to link Outlook Contacts with the Contacts list. Jaysus and Mary up a tree.

And he keeps braying at me in this deep stupid accent “I canna unerstaend whyi it isna wurkeen” and as he does, I have mental pictures of myself going Tomb Raider on his ass, cgi blood spilling everywhere and me, standing there, looking stupidly happy as I survey the carnage. I realise, in my demented mind, that this isn’t possible, so I concentrate on the fact that I have got Syndol in my bag and some tequila waiting for me at home tonight and if things progressively get worse, I have absinthe too. Just to wipe today completely from my mind. And to make things worse, he stank of old booze, stale cigarettes AND garlic.

Shudder.