I see that despite the football, University Challenge is back. I’m videoing it. I told one of my colleagues this [the one from Northern Ireland, she is entirely unlike anyone else I’ve ever met from the North, if she were in charge there, it wouldn’t be “Ulster says NO†it would be, “Ulster says ‘oh alright, go on then, if you want’â€. I digress]. She said “Oh, my God, what nerds, you are videotaping University Challenge!†Pause. “I like to watch it liveâ€. Mind you, I’m glad that I didn’t given her extra ammunition by telling her that we were going to spend the bulk of our evening organising our Summer holidays on a spread sheet. Look, it’s complex: the creche is closed for a month, the Princess has 9 weeks off school and our childminder is going to the Philippines for 5 weeks. Is there anything as dull as other people’s childcare arrangements? Perhaps I should stop while I still can.
Work
One dark and stormy night the captain sat down and said to the mate…
Me: Gosh, the weather is really creepy. It feels like a fairy tale.  I’m half expecting a forest to grow up around us for 100 years. Â
Single colleague: 100 years, that’s about how long it will take the handsome prince to come alright.
Dilemma
The Narnia flick is available on pay TV in my hotel. I would quite like to watch it. I am told that “All movie charges will appear as ‘room service’ on your bill”. But we all know that my employer will think that I am watching porn. I want the movie charge to appear as “Narnia flick” on my bill. What should I do?
Grammar
Work
A friend of mine who is an employment barrister has advised me not to blog about work. I feel that this is good advice but here I am ignoring it. I suppose that this is what good advice is for.
But surely, it’s alright, if I want to say good things? On Sunday, Mr. Waffle said to me “hang in there we go back to work on Tuesday” and I smiled feebly.
The other day I got a call from a friend and former colleague.
Him: You’re back at work then.
Me: Yup.
Him: How are you finding it?
Me: It’s great actually.
Him: It’s grim here.
Me: My boss is fantastic.
Him: I’m up to my tonsils.
Me: And my staff are bright, hardworking, pleasant and (very important this) obliging.
Him (suggestion of gritted teeth): Good for you.
Me (sunnily): And I have just the right amount of work, not so much that I am stressed, not so little that I am bored.
Him (definite gritted teeth): Marvellous.
Me: And I got a call from one of the boss of bosses today and she said that a) she was delighted I was pleased with the flowers she sent to me on the birth of the boys and b) she had the picture of them that I sent with my thank you card on her desk and c) she is in Brussels in a couple of weeks with the top boss and perhaps we could all go for a nice lunch.
Him: Lovely for you. (Reflective pause) You know, it should always be like that.
Me: But it isn’t, I feel as though the gods have conspired to make everything in my working life perfect.
Him (maliciously): You working mothers hate your children, don’t you?
Mid-life crisis
Me: I was saying today in the office that I was 37. Our 22 year old trainee was visibly startled.
Him: I hate to say this but, you know it’s not that she thinks you don’t look it.
Me: I know, it’s just that she’s surprised that someone my age manages to get out of the house at all.
