It’s going to be one of those weeks. Over the last fortnight I’ve been working on some reports that needed doing. Except I’ve no bloody idea what I’m doing, or why, or how the reports are supposed to look, or – to be honest – anything to do with this task. Which isn’t ideal. Any time I’ve been asked how it’s going, the response has been along the lines of
Well, I know fuck all about the system, the methods, the reports, and how it all goes together. I’m still waiting after [x] days for the information you promised. And I’ve no idea whether what I’m doing is correct or is a total waste of time. Other than that, it’s great.
As I’ve discovered today, it’s only the last sentence that has been sinking in. Sarcasm is obviously an unknown device here. And now we’ve got the clients coming in at the end of the week, and institutional panic has set in. Along with blame allocation.
Why didn’t you tell me you were having problems?
I did. Every day. You just chose to not bother.
This has not gone down well.
*sigh*
Well, the visit to the doctors (well, practice nurse, as it turned out) went fine. Having pissed in a bottle, they seemed to do absolutely sod-all with it. Mind you, can’t really blame ‘em, can you? I guess it’s just for their amusement “You think you’re so special, yet we made you piss on your fingers this morning. Ha!”
But blood-pressure’s fine ( 131 / 80 , if that means anything to anyone ), and there doesn’t seem to be anything else to worry about. I’ve got to make a proper doctor’s appointment in order to get thyroid levels etc. checked, so that appointment’s been made for a couple of week’s time. Oh goody.
