At the end me and L and my mum and dad stood up and clapped and cheered. Unlike MOST of the other parents who stayed sat in their seats! The miserable bastards. Who goes to their kid�s school play and doesn�t give them a standing ovation? I turned and mouthed �get up you miserable sods� and a few more shuffled to their feet, but they weren�t keen. *shakes head* What�s the world coming to?
Jooj is playing in the steel band at their school�s Kristinglmarkt tomorrow night but Im teaching in the evening so I cant go. *sad face*. She doesn�t mind cos she is Jooj the Invincible and she knows I love her anyway.
The local council have thoughtfully provided us with some new recycling bins. They are for food waste (cooked or uncooked). Im not sure what they�re planning to do with all these potato peelings, bread crusts and plate scrapings � compost them perhaps, or maybe sell them back to the borough�s school cafeterias? Whatever. There�s a little bin in which you collect your food scraps and then you empty that into a bigger bin which is outside and which the bin men collect when they collect the other rubbish.
Today I asked L to take out the bins. He did and he lined all the empties back up in the kitchen, just how I like em. Except the food waste bin. I couldn�t find it. Here�s the conversation:
Me: L, where�s the food waste bin?
L: Outside. Where the bins go.
Me: No sweetie, that one stays inside. You have to empty it into the big bin.
L: Oh. I didn�t know that.
Me: What did you think the big bin was for then?
L: Ummmmm. I thought it was for bigger food.
Going back to work after a week off was the predicted Pile O� Shite. Slaveboy had managed to fuck up my reporting stats so badly that it took me the whole of yesterday afternoon to work out what he�d done and then fix it. There was no point in making him fix it as he had already spent a day and a half sighing, flapping his hands about, blaming other people and generally being a cunt. I was mad as hell. Last time he fucked my stats reports up he ended up with a Performance Review meeting with Troy and was carpeted in grand style. She told him in no uncertain terms that one more fuck up would result in a disciplinary hearing and that was what she was pushing on me yesterday afternoon when she found out what had happened.
I went home and got horribly horribly drunk.
My department�s about to be restructured and Slaveboy will be out of a job in around three months. This morning I told Troy I didn�t want to do the disciplinary because Slaveboy is already looking for another job and anyone asking us for a reference on him would have to be told about the disciplinary. In this day and age, that can mean the difference between getting a job and not getting a job and, in my book, no amount of fucked up paperwork is worth screwing over someone�s livelihood for.
I told her the disciplinary was a sledgehammer to crack a nut. I told her she could force me to do it if she wanted but I wanted it on record that I was against it and that I thought it was heavy-handed and unnecessary. Disciplinaries are for disrespectful behaviour, wasting company time, calling up sex chat lines in your lunch hour and other Big Shit. Not for fucking up some spreadsheets.
After about an hour she caved. On Monday afternoon Slaveboy is gonna get the roasting of his LIFE. From ME. With Troy and the HR Manager in attendance for gravitas.
It wont go on his record.
I look forward to telling him how I saved his sorry arse when he is bitching about me afterwards to his buddies in the Call Centre.
Im supposed to be doing that �Letters� meme. I got �D�. That�s OK, I can do that. But not right now. I�ll surprise you with it when you�ve all forgotten about it cos it needs more brain power than I have at my disposal at the mo. Sorry.
Im worn out with work-stress. Its not pretty there at the moment and Ive really got a bit too much on my plate. It�s the Company Christmas Party on Saturday night. I would very much like to not go but I said (back in August or whenever it was they sent the bloody invites out) that I would and if I cancel now I will have to pay for our dinners. I cant afford to do that so I have to go.
There are barely a handful of people at that company that I can bear to be in the same room with and most of them aren�t going to be there on Saturday.
Last time there was a free bar. If there is a similar arrangement this year, me and L are going to drink until we�.until we��.ummmmm�.well, were gonna drink a LOT and we�re gonna dance with each other and pretend we�re somewhere posh with a load of strangers rather than in a 2 star hotel, troughing down soggy vols au vent with a bunch of cunts wearing Christmas cracker paper hats.
I would take photos but it would be too depressing.
Later my popsies