Thursday, 23 March 2006


The day began badly. I woke up with poor attitude. Couldn't be bothered to wash my hair. And I really haven't been to work with third-day unwashed hair in probably a decade.

On the London news they announced that WAGN trains were suspended between Finsbury Park and Moorgate, so I had to chance the tube instead. Frequent but packed. Kings Cross Northern line was heaving. Couldn't get on the first train, but got into pole position for the following one. Carriage was full but still one man decided he couldn't wait and bundled on, with rucksack, crushing forward until the doors shut. If we were a crate of fruit we'd've been bruised and ruined. Man with rucksack decided to read the paper which meant that he couldn't hold on. Wedging himself between me and someone else to hold himself up. Behind me a short man was holding the overhead bar and leaning against me for additional support. I felt like a leaning post. Men on the tube are rocks. Solid. Unbending. Heavy.

So I arrived at the council-run training session, pleased to be doing recruitment and selection for the third time (3rd company), but happy to be out of the office and given some recognition for prior experience (1 day only as opposed to the longer 2 days). The trainer sat chatting to his assistant while we waited for the rest of the participants. The time ticked slowly by, past the start time of 9:30. Eventually I asked how many we were expecting. The man in the red shirt who I had taken for the trainer said he didn't know but having counted the stack of packs next to him he'd hazard a guess at 11. So you're not the trainer? We'd sat like dutiful lemons for quite long enough, so I went downstairs to enquire after our trainer. It transpired she was home in bed with the flu but had failed to call in. A sappy chap came up to apologize promising to rearrange as soon as possible. I got back to the office for 10:05.

Oh joy, more time to spend on preparing for my performance management interview. Sapped of the will to live by 5.00pm I left. Glad of the extra daylight. Saw a blossom tree on the way home in full bloom. Yearning for spring, as promised by the weatherman on the weekend, I might take out a greivance against him if he's wrong.

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