Back in the World of Work

The novelty of complaining about the indignity of having to haul my lazy arse out of bed every single morning and go to work has worn off. Luckily my new job is providing more than enough to keep me interested. I’m pissed off because I don’t have full computer access and so I am reduced to using Outlook Web Access, which is making my poor little eyes twitch because the functionality is SO terrible and I can’t be as fiendishly organised as I like to be. That’s my IT downside. The upside is I am getting to play with Excel. I run reports from their database, export into Excel and I am creating fabulous formula in pivot table and graph heaven. All of which is earning me some funny looks because obviously getting THIS excited about columns and reports is just plain weird. I’ve also been put in charge of logging and tracking complaints – though fortunately not resolving them. This has put me in the line of fire and this week I’ve been directly called a “fucking muppet” and a “snotty cow” and referred to as “the posh bitch with the double-barrelled name”.
This office is peopled with the fussiest tea and coffee drinkers on the planet. Very weak coffee, very strong tea, milky but strong coffee, one and a half sugars, teabag left in it goes on and on. All this is going on and half the office can’t cope with making a cup of green tea.

            Instructions: pour hot water on teabag. Take teabag straight out. Give cup to ME. End of instructions.

I end up with murky pond water looking mugs half filled with undrinkable sludge. I have no idea how they manage to balls it up so royally and I feel really mean looking at it then going and pouring it down the sink so I keep saying “no I don’t want one” when I really do and then making myself a cup of beautiful pale tea which doesn’t look like the sample of someone with terminal VD.

Unlike my last job the managers and senior managers are all very practical and can use complex pieces of office equipment like the photocopier and fax machine. It makes a refreshing change not to listen to people paid 3 times my salary bleating at the photocopier.

Nearly as amusing is the travelling. Of course when I say amusing I mean soul-destroyingly awful. I am not at my best in the morning and having to get on a bus from Oldham to the centre of Manchester is bad enough. I then walk across Piccadilly gardens and get on a tram heading towards Eccles. My first week I was getting off at Salford Quays, and walking along the water to the office with very attractive windswept hair as a result. Then on my second week the new Media City stop was opened and everything was fabulous for 2 whole days. Then on Tuesday night a tram came off the tracks with carnage to the tram system the result. The trams are running again but not to Media City so I have crazy hair ALL the time. The tram is usually very busy – like Northern Line busy – and I end up having to stand at least half of the time which is not great as my balance is so terrible. It all takes so long. It’s like working in London without the benefits I leave the house just after seven and get home at about 6.30. It is NOT groovy.

I am missing my TAS because I have got very used to being able to talk to him on and off all day and most of the night, now he’s being squeezed into about an hour and a half between dinner and bed time. The whole visa thing is very slow at the moment and I’ll be writing a separate blog.

The Moog has finally manned up and admitted that The Domme is to all intents and purposes his girlfriend as they have gone far beyond play. I am happy about this I really like her and she gets stuff done. The Moog is lovely; he’s enthusiastic and would do anything for anyone. The problem is he says he’ll do everything for everyone and he ends up being, on occasion, unreliable. The Moog and the Domme have been inviting me to various BDSM events and I’ve been drawn back into a scene I thought I left well behind with my twenties. I’m having a lot of fun though hanging out with the perverts.

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