Political meme from apolla, and then lots of crazed rambling

[emony]

You scored as Democrat. </td> Democrat 92% Socialist 75% Green 75% Anarchism 67% Communism 67% Republican 17% Fascism 17% Nazi 0% What Political Party Do Your Beliefs Put You In? created with QuizFarm.com

Am v tired. We've got an event on Monday so it was all hands on deck today to get things done. I also had to phone some more people about this school children and nutrition event we're doing, and answer all the emails about that, despite that fact that I've only been there a month, I haven't done one of these before, and I don't really know what I'm doing! It's mostly good, don't get me wrong. At this point in my last job, I was already decided that I was going to leave, and had actually been to two interviews. In fact, it was tomorrow, in terms of last time in my old job - ie. the Saturday after I'd been there for four weeks - when I burst into tears in the car and finally admitted how utterly miserable I was. So compared to that, it's great. I've not even thought of leaving once, certainly haven't looked into any other jobs, and don't plan to. I can't see myself staying there forever. The company won't want me to stay forever, apart from anything else. But I think I'll do six months at the very, very least. Probably a year. Possibly more. So yeah, it's good.

I do get a bit annoyed sometimes that firstly they treat me as if I just ought to *know* how to do everything. Like I ought to just *know* how to reply to all these insane emails, that I ought to just *know* what needs to be done in planning an event at this stage. As if it's all totally obvious. Which it entirely isn't. Also, when I ask a question or suggest something, it's like, "... what? Are you *insane*? That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard." or worse, "uh .. yeah, that'd be a great suggestion, if we were all *as stupid as you*." It's not quite that much, obviously, but there's always just an undertone of "why did we hire this moron? We wanted someone who could do the job, not someone who'd ask questions about everything." And I'm terrible at asking questions. I don't know why, but I just don't do it. I have to be really pushed to speak up and voice anything at all. Personally I blame TMO. I'm not sure why, but I think she probably stunted me at childhood by telling me to sit in the corner and shut up and stop asking bloody questions or something like that. No evidence, I just suspect that deep down it's her fault somehow. That sounds so insanely paranoid. Anyway, this isn't meant to be a long, boring post about my issues. This is about work.

I mentioned to my family a week or two ago that we were doing this seminar on nutrition and children, and they all - as anyone would really - kept saying, "ooooh, you should get that Jamie Oliver!" Like I could never have come to that stunning revelation on my own. Anyway, I looked in to it today - went to his website and stuff. There's a campaign that he's doing, Feed Me Better it's called, linked in to his tv show. Wow, I thought to myself. They're exactly the sort of people we ought to have had in one of our panels. We should at least invite them along, assuming there are actual human bods behind the "Jamie does this, Jamies does that, Jamies thinks blah blah blah", because somehow I doubt Jamie has the space in his busy schedule at such short notice for a seminar appearance. However, I mentioned to the bosses that I thought we should email this group to let them know that we're running this event, and suggest that they might like to at least send someone along to attend.

First they stared sort of blankly. Then they went into a bit of a double act of, "oh yes, we tried to get Jamie Oliver once, do you remember?" "Yes, yes, his agent, we got a number from that chap, Joe Bloggs." "No, no, it was Joe *Smith*." "No, I'm sure it was Bloggs. He was the one we went to about Anthony Warrell Thompson." "No, no, that was *Jane* Bloggs." etc etc. After a bit of chat about how they couldn't get Mr Thompson (or whatever his name is), they went off for a shuftie in the filing cabinet to find this leaflet from a company that arranges "star" speakers for events, to see if they could locate a contact for dear Anthony, or indeed Jamie. They couldn't find it, and resolved to sort out the filing system, and then sat down to get back on with their work. "Uh, so.." I said, after a minute or two, pointing at the Feed Us Better website on my screen. "Can I send out some information to this company then?" They stared as if I'd sprouted a second head. "What company?"

You see my traumas. Grr! I did send out the invite in the end. I hope they do come, just so I can look bloody smug when they come and pick up their badges.

Anyway, enough of my moaning. It's 95% good, 5% trauma, and that's pretty reasonable.

I'm going to an ice hockey game tomorrow. Should be interesting. All I know about ice hockey is that it's jolly violent, but I'm feeling in the mood for a bit of violence, so that fits nicely. Then on Sunday TMO is descending to help Aunt C (recently split from partner, and needing to sell their jointly-owned house asap) paint the living room, and I have been drafted in to assist. "Do you have any old clothes up there?" TMO said. "No," said I. "I only brought stuff I'll actually wear." "Right," she said. "Do you have any old clothes at home?" "I don't know," I said. She repeated the question four or five times, as is her wont when faced with a lack of comprehension on the part of someone she's talking to. It's never that she's phrased something badly, that she isn't making sense, or that she could do anything to explain what she's talking about. It's always just that you are too stupid to have understood the first time, and need to hear the question or statement again so your slow brain can process it*. "Unless the wardrobe is right there in front of me, I don't know what's in it!" I explained. She threatened to go poking around looking for "old" clothes, but, partly because her view of "old" and mine do not coincide, and partly because I have mildly indecent fanwear in there, I said no freaking way. She's bringing me an old t-shirt of hers to wear. I live in fear.

* the management would like to apologise for the unreasonable amount of bile and wrath spewing forth from this journal tonight. It is attributed to a low blood sugar count, and it is predicted that normal operating procedure will be back in place within a few hours. Thank you. Have a nice day.

I swear, I'm going to get on to those fics this weekend too. Promises from me should come with a disclaimer. Sorry. But they will get done. They might take some time, but hopefully they'll be worth it. I am planning to research Prague this weekend. Yay :)