3^rd weekend, so informal meet time again. Where one of the first people I walked into was one of my colleagues. It would appear that Adam is romantically attached to the niece of one of the club movers and shakers.

I hate work. I hate having a long commute to a remote office when I live five minutes’ walk from my base office. I hate having nothing to do when I get there. I hate it that on the very rare occasions when I do have something to do that something can be summarised as “Press refresh a lot. When it stops working, phone
Newcastle” which could quite frankly be done by a trained baboon. I hate my team leader’s “I want to be your friend” act and if I have to listen to much more drivel about his pet chinchilla I am going to break into his house and strangle the thing. The building reminds me of a prison, the canteen has been known to serve cheese-and-worm sandwiches and it’s in Telford, where most of the locals seem to be slack-jawed boss-eyed knuckle-dragging morons.

So it was, therefore, quite refreshing to discover that one of the co-irkers who I had previously filed under “twunts, miscellaneous, self for the annoyance of” is actually quite a nice bloke. But of course he is . . . he’s another climber, and they mostly are!

(And yes, I am actively job-hunting elsewhere!)

No climbing due to rain. Squelchy walk. As usual.

This entry was posted on Monday, July 20th, 2009 at 9:50 am and is filed under Navel-gazing. Both comments and pings are closed.