Eeek

In a fit of being horrendously organised (I’m yet to decide whether that means I’m exceptionally organised, or organised horrendously) I’m off after work to sign up for a proper little office unit thing for my company to operate from. It’s a complete pain in the arse that it’s happening now, rather than in a month’s time, but that’s the way the world goes, I suppose.

I’ve been wanting to seperate the company registered address from my home address for a while now. There’s a range of reasons for doing so – but the main one is just to be able to seperate work and home. 2004’s likely to be manic enough, without having that kind of thing to contend with as well. But christ, it’s all a bit grown-up and sensible.

Short Fuse

The office where I work has installed a new lock system on the doors. It’s not difficult – the swipe card we had anyway just needs to be waved in front of the sensor. Even the most cerebrally challenged should be able to open doors with it no worries.

So far, not one single person going through the door has managed to get it right first time.

So many people – bearing in mind that the door has always had a lock on it – are now trying to open the door without using the swipecard first, it’s really beginning to fuck me off. Every single one gives it a yank (Fnarr) before remembering about the new card. Then the card gets used, a *beep* comes from the fucking doorbox (and I can tell you now, that beeping little bastard is due for a fix a la windchimes) they give it a tug again (Fnarr again) before the lock’s disengaged. It’s not rocket science, but this bunch of fucking ‘tards still can’t get their heads round a new locking system.

The best one was a woman who’s obviously used to doors that just push open, who was completely befuddled by technology like – well – a door handle. I despair.

Shite

I was intending to blether today about a very silly piece of animation I got from a friend – only I’m utterly crap, woke up late, and forgot to get the URL. So I’ll add it in later tonight, when I finally get home.

Down

There’s been a lot going on in my head of late. The SAD has hit me harder than it has in years, and I’d tried to take the advice of someone else (for once) and keep myself busy this year. Well, that’s been a fuck-up of epic proportions. I’d thought it might be better to be busy, to be out and about rather than inside and in the throes of an SAD blot. How wrong could I be?

The thing is, I’m now in a position where I don’t really know how to break the circle. Not exactly a situation I’m used to, and definitely not one I’m comfortable with. I wish I were – it would make life a shitload easier than it currently is. Instead, my brain keeps racing at 200mph round a figure-of-eight racetrack, never quite coming off the track, but coming close.

One thing that’s not helping is the onset of the true Festering Season™. I’ve got friends staying here for it – and in all honesty that’s a first. I’ve absolutely no clue even where to start when it comes to the general Christmas Day thing, because it’s not something I bother with. I’m still not going to go over the top – but these are friends whose opinions I care about, so yes, the entire concept is preying on my mind. And yes, I feel like a twat for letting it get to me – but it is, so there’s not much I can do.

This Too Will Pass

Do you ever have days where there’s just nothing working right, and even if it were working, you still wouldn’t have the words to describe it?

Today is one of those days for me. I can’t think what to write, nor even how to string words together in an interesting way. So we’ll call this a one-day hiatus, a brief interlude, and keep quiet about it ’til tomorrow. At which point I’ll have hopefully managed to get some sleep, and not feel like utter, utter shit.

Calling a Spade a Manual Digging Implement

According to the BBC, Donald Rumsfeld has been given an award for speaking complete bollocks. I love the Plain English Campaign‘s annual awards – there’s normally something funny within them – particularly for the “Foot in Mouth” award (which is the one Rumsfeld received) for people who make absolutely no sense. The “Golden Bull” ones are quite stunning too.