November 17th, 2004

blade

Wrongfootedness

I got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. That is, I got out of the inside of bed, the nice-warm-under-duvet bit, and emerged into the outside. Bad move.

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So anyway, I start writing this post, taking a well-earned and somewhat late lunchbreak, and Nicola's phone rings. Nicola isn't here. Everybody else looks at me. I take my headphones off, and grudgingly go and answer the phone.

- "I sent an email through to Nicola to ask blah blah urgent website urgent blah blah pensions blah."
- "I'm afraid she's not in the office this morning."
- "Yes, I realise you operate as a helpdesk, so I had hoped somebody else would pick it up, but that was this morning, so I just thought I'd phone through to ... [tails off into mumbling]"
- "Did you send the email to webmaster?"
- "Oh ... er, no, direct to Nicola."
- "Well, if you send it to webmaster at admin dot cam dot ay see dot yew kay then we'll all see it, including Nicola when she gets back, and hopefully somebody else will be able to do it."
- "Okay, I'll do that then."
- "Okay, thanks. Bye." [I start to hang up]
- [pause] [scrabbling sound] "Except, oh, I think I might have deleted it."

In a last-ditch attempt to preserve my sanity, I pretend I didn't hear this bit and just hang up before I actually mutilate somebody.

Returning to my desk, I mutter disgruntledly for a few seconds before realising that Nick is still looking at me. "Sorry," I say, "I'm in a bad mood. It's the lack-of-coffee situation that's getting me down. I'm just going to put my headphones back on and pretend I'm not here, otherwise I'll just shout at somebody." "Oh!" says Nick, "I made some real coffee earlier, and said it was out there in the kitchen if you wanted any... but you didn't hear me, because you had your headphones on."