I can’t get no (job) satisfaction.
It doesn’t help when you are in an office populated entirely by women. I have long believed that in most working environments, legislation should be introduced to prevent more than two women being allowed in the same room.
Every time somebody leaves the office, a character assassination begins. I was warned today, for example, that Kit-Kat-Kathy (whom it has to be said, does possess quite a sizeable rear) stashes food in her desk and hides in the stationery cupboard to eat it. She is also under suspicion of, on more than one occasion, pilfering labelled food from the communal fridge.
Having worked in the office for several weeks, I have now discovered that whereas I find Tedious Tina well, tedious, she is utterly loathed by my esteemed colleagues. It would be fair to say that this isn’t obvious from the way that said colleagues interact with TT when she is actually present; lottery winners’ relatives grovel less.
Fortunately, I only have to spend four hours a day in Snideyville and since I spend most of my time daydreaming about Phil Spencer and running an up to the minute comparison on the different versions of my daily horoscope, it really isn’t all that bad.
Plus, I always have my blind date to look forward to, so yes, my cup truly does runneth over.
Hid my Twiglets multipack at the back of my drawer before I left, just to be on the safe side.