What a difference a layer of cloud makes in the first embers of daylight! Unlike Wednesday morning, today it was dark again when I made my way to work. It was bound to be one of those days. My boss made her usual cheerful appearance and said "I've got a little job for you."

Little jobs? Now that they've discovered stock they didn't know they had, they're dropping prices on almost everything and my boss informed me that my job was to write the new price on every tag. That meant checking through printed lists or going off to the database computer to look it up. Well... That's not rocket science. Shouldn't be too difficult surely?

She then went into Clothes Mode. It's a fearful experience when a woman starts to talk clothes. We males are psychology unequipped to deal with complex instructions dealing with apparel, and having no natural fashion sense, it's a long stream of instructions that might just as well have been spoken in Serbo-Croat.

"These ones..." She said, clearly relishing the task of pointing out which articles were to be repriced, "And these.. These.. Those.. Oh yes, and these... All of those... All of those... That too... Hmmm.... No, not these... But I want these repriced... And these... And these. Any questions?"

Gulp.

Shock Revelation

Our resident sex-change person has a hairy chest. Horrible thought, isn't it? KS apparently hadn't realised she(?) wasn't entirely a woman.

"I thought she was just really ugly" He said in all innocence. Certainly had him fooled.

Influence of the Week

Sadly so far no-one has addressed me as "My Lord". I just live for that moment. Before that fateful day occurs however, I have no choice but to send letters, certificates, and make irate phone calls to alert people to the changes necessary by my new-found status. So far I haven't had any great obstacle.

Today however I got a message from our library that my access to a couple of websites has been restored. I've tried before but gotten nowhere. This last time they reduced my access without warning me I had no choice but to enquire to a guy who does nothing but dither. Each and every time you ask for assistance he says "Sorry, I can't help.". He's become very good at apologising. Well, now that I have a noble title, an apology simply will not do. Oh don't just stand there, you silly little man, do something!

This time I had a word in someones ear and asked for copies of the Data Protection Act 1998, Human Rights Act 1998, and Freedom of Information Act 2000. That seems to have done the trick. Nothing like a shock to system to lubricate the wheels of the World Wide Thingy.