Monday mornings always have one thing in common. You know exactly what is going to happen. The alarm goes off, you get out of bed, get washed, fed, watered, and straight to work like some sort of condemned zombie. But not this monday. Today has an air of uncertainty brought about by the forthcoming end of our work placement. This is officially my last week at the department store. That means a return to unemployed status and all the red tape and bureaucracy that goes with it.

KS has already been called to interview by the Job Centre. He was of course greatly annoyed at having to spend an hour in the town centre waiting to see the claims advisor after work, but if he doesn't get away with doing almost nothing about his job search I suspect he'll be much more upset than that. I haven't received a letter telling me when my interview is taking place. The tension is mounting.

The Baby Crew

After discovering myself the delights of working under Baby G, it's become clear how little respect the other bods at the department store have for him. Miss L spluttered dire curses at the very mention of his name, but then she'd been told to work on my section today and so she was fed up anyway. Since we're lesser mortals who don't understand the brilliance and wisdom of Baby G, we decided to follow suit and give ourselves 'gangsta' names. J told me that anyone who calls themselves Baby Whatever will not be listened to or respected in any way. So that means we have Baby J, Baby K, & Baby L. I was given Baby C, or Baby B (because of my high-vis label), but in the end I returned to my old 'gangsta' name, Alfred T. That's the one that Big Momma Miss J gave me way back when I worked with DS as my boss, which actually predates the start of my blog.

No, there wasn't any point to this at all, but hey, we survived Baby G and lived to tell the tale. This last saturday and sunday his weekend gang did twice the work they normally do. Well done. So what was it he was claiming about working harder than anyone else? It seems his other claims are based on his fervent imagination and desire to be the biggest, baddest, gangstarest team leader in the whole department store. I wish him well on his quest and could he please stop talking about it and start out?

A Bright Spark

one of the hazards of the workplace I've found over the years is static electricity. Sometimes you can feel the arc between you and a piece of architectural metal, and it's literally quite a shock. I used to approach the lift at one workplace with great trepidation knowing full well I was going to set off a small blue spark the moment I touched it. Today it was KS suffering this phenomenon, and he thoughtfully passed on his electrical charge to Mrs T. I'll bet you all can guess what KS said when he told me about that.

But he's not all bad. In between visits by Mrs T to see whether he was working, KS whipped out his mobile phone and ran an app that he described as a 'brain-trainer'. So far his brain hasn't responded to treatment, but we hope long term exposure to mental activity will improve his cognitive performance.

Hi There

Bumped into Sophie out in the street at lunchtime again. She's one of those researchers who stop and ask you questions before taking your name and address so you can be hounded for charitable contributions. I gave a her wave and said hello, and since I was being so cute, she let me go about my business unhindered. Have a nice day.