Two weeks break from the post-5pm drama. Two weeks break from the clandestine whisperings. Two weeks break from useless colleagues. Two weeks break from spineless boss. Two weeks break from stupid manager. Two weeks break from smelly ugly obnoxious arrogant creepy dishonest annoying unfathomable stupid turd.
One week looking after three small people that love me.
One week visiting more people that love me.
And then when I’m back at work I can look forward to having race week off during the Manx TT for the first time in four effing years. Expect to see some superior photography of fast bikes coming from my direction (not)
Sorry to bump but my two [and a bit] weeks is nearly up.
Today I safely delivered the small people back to ‘the mainland’ (The manx hate England being refered to that way. They like to think of it as ‘the other Island’). As far as they were concerned it was a relatively painless week. They were easy to handle and I think I’ve got a knack with little-person-psychology.
Got out and about a bit. Got to a few places I don’t go to often. I went to the laxy wheel (IOM’s most recognisable landmark) which I have not been to AT ALL in the six years I’ve lived here until the other day.
Back at work in a few days. I look forward to some catching up , and talking to the few ‘normal’ people I work with. I look forward to seeing if my break has done some head-healing and/or if things will move in a more favourable direction for yours truly. If not I will initiate another bullet point on the employment section of my CV.
