There's a running gag in Dr Who. (Okay, so it's only run twice but that's close enough.) As the Doctor prepares for departure after saying farewell to his companion, something happens to the TARDIS. In the most recent series, he waved goodbye to Martha, closed the door and … well, see for yourself.
The reason I mention this is the remarkable similarity between this scene and my life at the moment. Not literally, of course (which is a shame) but metaphorically (which isn't).
At home, I'm under siege from the mice and moths, my nice neighbours are selling up, my house is crumbling around me and hoons have moved in at the end of the street. But these are minor irritations compared to the absolute nonsense at work. Can I stick it out until April 2009 without going bananas?
Even the networked printer knows the answer to that.
(And the maintenance people have been going berserk with 'on brand' signage. My current favourite is the advice that appears above the cisterns in the loos: Full flush for emergency use only. I must seek their guidance on what constitutes an emergency. A floater? Diarrhoea? Nuclear meltdown?)
Anyway, my world (which is rather limited) is full of WTF? moments right now. I have refrained from voicing that opinion in staff meetings — including a three-and-a-half hour borefest this morning. (Now there's a reason to hit the full flush.) How long I can keep my silence is another matter.
Shorter Snail: I'm leaving as soon as possible. To hell with the consequences.