So great to be back

After five lovely days off how great it is to be back...

...Or perhaps not...

It was strangely nice actually, when I first came in, because the temp that covered me caused mayhem again. I don't know how they manage it, but everything seems to fall apart when I am not here, so everyone believes I am truly wonderful! I make the most of the praise when it comes my way, sympathising with how the temp could get so many things so horribly wrong... After all, having an incompetent temp just makes me look better, so I hope the next one that covers me is really bad!

Unfortunately, the novelty of it being nice to be back soon wore off.

By 10:10 I was watching the clock with nothing to do.

By 11:00 the fire alarm had gone off 7 times.

7 times I had put my coat on to leave the building and 7 times I had to take it off and sit back down again. It may not sound like much, but at the time it was incredibly annoying - it was interrupting my surfing of the internet for one thing. Someone on the 12th floor had burnt some toast, I discovered, which was playing havoc with the alarms. As it was getting ever so slightly repetitious I sent an email to everybody explaining that a slice burnt toast was the cause of the erratic fire alarms and for once, for the first time ever, I heard someone laugh at my email as he read it out to his colleague.

Woo hoo! This is a truly momentous occasion, which I plan to treasure - my witty-but-informational email was... appreciated (albeit for a split second by a lone person). I'd better not let that encourage me to send more though, as I doubt my elation at being found funny would last for very long. I usually get at least one reply from someone telling me not to waste their time. I tend to just ignore these, but I have actually considered constructing a pro-forma email about how replying to my waste-of-time email is surely a greater waste of their time than simply glancing at a three lines about a lost cardigan, not microwaving paper cups, or indeed, burnt toast. I've thought better of it until now - I'm saving that until I'm feeling really mischievous (or pissed off!).

Somehow, and somewhat unbelievably, the day has passed without dragging it's cumbersome feet in the mud too much which means I only have one hour and twenty minutes to get through before I can go home...

...Then one more day and it's the weekend again! If every week was a two day week I think I could actually handle this 'working' malarky!