Colleagues o' Doom
I love the people I work with. Really. I do. Every. Last. One. However, this has not always been the case. Some colleagues exist only to get on your tits, and are placed on the desk opposite yours by your personnel department solely as a test of faith of your loyalty to the organisation. The Civil Service does this too, but only because they'll employ any ratbag that crawls in off the streets. Me included, it turned out.
I bet the people you work for has at least one of these:
Miss "I'm getting married": A whole year of "I'm getting married", with conversation revolving about 'My Dave' and the minutiae of their forthcoming wedding-of-the-century, with endless phone calls to her "bunnikins" discussing dresses, suit hire, cake, marquees and the 300-person guest list. No-one has any idea what "My Dave" looks like, or even if he exists at all.
Who becomes…
Mrs "I've just got married": Her desk covered with dozens of wedding photos proving for once and for all that 'My Dave' is a real person, or an extremely ugly actor; a year's worth of conversation revolving about life with 'My Dave', how wonderful the wedding of the century was and "it's such a shame your aunt was savaged by a wildebeest on the morning of the ceremony, you missed everything. We've joined a badminton club, you know."
Who becomes…
Mrs "I'm having a baby": 'My Dave' eventually found the right hole, and now we've got nine months of baby planning before My Dave Junior appears. The office wag notes the due date is exactly nine months and six days after the departmental Christmas party. Oh!
This eventually became Mrs "I've just had a baby" in which a thousand wedding photos on the desk became a million pictures of something that looks like Winston Churchill. I handed in my notice at this stage to work for Mr "I'm off out to score some weed an' ting" at Motorway Tyres. A marked improvement.
Alas, there is no Thursday vote-o this week, as Scary "Two Sheds" Duck will be spending the day constructing his second shed. Instead, the Lord of Darkness himself, Satan, in lieu of the recent 6/6/6 dateline, and his forthcoming appearance in Doctor Who, tells of his attempts to visit an unpleasant and violent death on your humble author. Did he succeed?*
* No.
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