Today I had to speak to all four applications for the job in my team.

Firstly I called the guy I was offering it to - he is so deadpan and expressionless almost all of the time, and at first I was a bit shocked at the lack of emotion on his face. But as I talked about sorting out start time, and salary, he couldn’t stop it, and his face broke into a huge grin.

Apparently he walked out into the corridor, where he was seen to be animatedly talking into his mobile, with the huge grin in place.

Then began the truly awful part.

Telling three people, who all really wanted the job, that they hadn’t got it.

The two guys weren’t happy - one noticably less so than the other, but telling neither of them was fun.

Telling the girl was awful. She put on such a brave face, but I could so tell she was gutted. “Did you give it to N?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Bloody N.”

I went back to my desk, feeling like shit. S half laughed at me when she saw I was fighting back tears. “And there’s me thinking you were a hard-arsed bitch!”

I’ve spent most of the day trying to think of N’s big grin, and not J’s crest-fallen face.

Sometimes it’s good being the boss.

Sometimes it stinks.

It is that time of year, when the half year review is nigh.

I have asked some people I work fairly closely with for some ‘360 feedback’ - namely the guy I sit opposite, one of the managers from IT (who I no longer work with since IT got restructured) and the two women who work for me. I asked them both to be totally honest, because as fairly new to the role, and to management, I’d really appreciate what they had to say (not management bullshit, I really do want to do the best job I can).

Surprisingly, the IT guy gave me some very nice feedback - he’s a typical IT bloke, who doesn’t have a whole lot of social skills, and I know there have been times when I have been on his back about things he’s said he’d do, and hasn’t.

The guy who sits opposite was okay too - although I don’t have a whole lot to do with him workwise, he does have to put up with me on a day to day basis.

And then there’s my two ‘girls’.

They assure me they both wrote them seprately, didn’t discuss what they were going to put, and only compared after they had both written it.

And apart from the structure, they have basically written the same things.

They have been so nice it’s unbelievable. One even added at the bottom “The working environment and culture of the team is friendly, free of politics and encourages support within the team. It’s a good place to work.”

I had to fight back the tears.

And when the only development issue they come up with is ‘managing time and workload to enable skill sharing witin the team, due to under-staffing’, I feel truly honoured.

And slightly big-headed of course!

And on the big bonus side, have been interviewing all week, and will Monday make an offer to one of the people from another part of the department to come and help take the workload off the rest of us by doing the more repetitive, and adhoc work we have to face, so I can concentrate on that sharing of skills!!

Visit to N and NYC was fabulous - it really was like coming home.

I have lived in many places, and don’t really feel an affinity to any other place - it’s always just been where I lived and worked before.

But NYC (well, actually Jersey City, but don’t tell the purists) really does feel like home. Even the ‘Jersey City Smell’ seems right somehow. Met up with the lovely Pob (no point linking to him, he hasn’t updated in AGES) at Heathrow, where he spent most of the time taking phots of my cleavage, and comparing them with Marilyn Monroe.

This was my Victoria Beckham impression - although the chin looks more like Bruce Forsyth!

Did some shopping, although not a huge amount - I was a little less like a kiddy in a sweet shop this time, despite the phenomenol exchange rate! I did take some cash out, gambling that the rate will go down by the time I next visit America in December.

Walking back from the mall, we saw a crazy sky rainbow. I assume there was something on the top of the building reflecting the sun, but it did look a bit weird.

We tried to find Roger-the-Barman, but the bar he moved to was awful, the staff were extremely unhelpful and rude, and very slow to serve us drinks.

So off we headed to Fitzies.

To be greeted with a hugely warm welcome - I have never known a place quite like it. Plus it has the added bonus of a barman who looks at me and says, “You like it strong?” and proceeds to poor the British equivalent of around 4 vodkas into a glass. And then deciding the glass wasn’t big enough, so pouring it into a bigger glass, and then adding another slug.

I had 4 of those.

Plus we were given 3 shots of various things - no idea what they were, some were left over cocktails mixed for someone else, but some were mixed entirely for us.

Saturday we met up with another friend, and of course ended up back in Fitzies.

Why do I always end up looking drunk and sweaty?

Oh yeah……….

I have been listening to BBC radio 7, last week they had a 4 parter of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I have listened to two of them, and was hoping to listen to the 2 remaining episodes tonight, before I head off to the Large Granny Smith tomorrow.

It didn’t seem to be working though. No sound coming out.

So I closed it, and tried a different programme.

Still no joy.

So, I tried to listen to some of my stored music.

Silence.

Crawling around on the floor, checking all the connections, checking the plugs (although not sure why, since there is a light on my speakers indicating there was power coming through).

Final check was the volume.

And for some reason, between last night and this, half of the controls had been set to the lowest.

How did that happen? Why did that happen? It’s okay now, but is a bit spooky.

LELI is a big puff!

Saturday night, evening was very pleasant, nice festival going on, and the special ‘Eye’ in town….

“Shall we go on the big wheel?” I asked.

He didn’t even pause for breath.

“No.”

I laughed - he just looked so horrified.

“Why not?”

“I am afraid of heights…..”

Bless.

I know it’s been leaking slightly the last few days, but have been too damn busy at work to ring the plumber. Then yesterday I got up to find the kitchen floor flooded. Bucket put under the sink, and rang the plumber first thing I got to work. He promised to come round last night after 6 o’clock.

I got home from work, the bucket was full to overflowing. I emptied it, and sat down to wait.

And wait.

At 8.30 I rang him, and he was all hassled, still stuck on the job he’d been on all day. So he promised to come round tonight.

This morning, even more water, despite the bucket. I switched the water off at the mains, because I couldn’t afford to have the whole house flooded!

At 7.30, he turned up. And fiddled around with my pipes (oo-er missus). He says it shouldn’t leak, but in a couple of weeks, he will come round on a Saturday to redo the whole plumbing works (he didn’t have al the stuff with him - it’s still with the other customer who still hasn’t got any plumbing sorted, although he did manage to get away earlier tonight).

And he didn’t charge me.

That’s the third time he’s not charged me. He says he’ll charge me next time.

You hear so much about rip-off plumbers, I am pretty lucky to have found him!

Photo taken last night, while spending a pleasant evening with LELI by the water.

Of course, today it is pissing down.

I was working late in the office today, and one of the security guards came round to close the windows (air-conditioning has been broken for a week now - for those hours I am in the office I am glad it’s not a nice summer this year).

He stops to chat to me about inconsequental things.

Then he asks, “Do you live in Big Jugs?”

“Erm, yes. How do you know?” I am expecting him to tell me he lives there.

Oh no.

“I used to love there, before I worked here though. I remember seeing you there.”

Now, hang on a minute. I can understand if he saw me around the office, and then saw me shopping in the neighbourhood after that. But this man saw me in the neighbourhood, and I made enough of an impression for him to move house, then move jobs, and see me in the office and recognise me.

Even worse - I mentioned my car, and he says, “Oh, your megane?”

My old car. The one that gets parked in the offside carpark, which he has nothing to do with.

I am a little worried.

…. than an Italian telling you the most unfunny ‘knock knock’ joke in the world, with a puzzled expression on his face, asking for an explanation as to why it is funny?

I had tears of laughter running down my face.

I work in an office which is effectively split in two. I think at one point in the distant past there were two companies, as it is really two buildings, with shared lifts and stairs.

On each floor there are two doors, one to each building, which requires a person to swipe the card to open the door.

The other night, as I was leaving, I had put my card in my bag as usual (I wear it hung around my neack, and it annoys me wearing it outside, especially when it is as windy as it has been of late), and walked out of my side of the building talking on my mobile phone to Krazy K.

As I walked out of the locked door to my side, so this man walked out of the stairs, and tried to open the door to the building opposite mine. While still chatting to Krazy K, I signalled to hang on, while trying to juggle into the depths of my tardis like bag, and still arranging the nights festivities.

In the end I gave up, waved him to wait, and finished talking to Krazy K.

I was very polite when I hung up, apologised, said I had put my pass away and I needed both hands to dig deep into my bag. He smiled too, apologies, said he had a passcard, but it was broken.

As I was about to wave my card in front of the scanner, I thought better of it. After all, the place he was heading was where all the big bosses of my part of the company work. And you can’t be too careful, can you?

“Erm, before I let you in, do you mind if I ask who you are?”

He looked at me strangely.

“I’m Petey Pete, head of all the retail part of the business.”

If the head man of the whole of the company, not just the split off part where I work was God, this man was Jesus.

It’s lucky I am such a quite, non descript little thing, and there is nothing remotely memorable about the fat woman with the two tone crazy hair……. He won’t remember me at all.