Wednesday, January 16, 2008

"...what the hell am I doing here?"

17.12 Twenty Six Minutes Late
It had been suggested that, in view of our low morale and general unease, it might be a good idea if HeadHoncho were to attend our team meeting to answer a few questions.

As he took his seat that he would, even for a moment, consider using my filing cabinet as a foot stool, let alone actually do it, didn't bode well. Ask anyone else in that room if touching my stuff or encroaching on my personal space was a good idea and I think you'd get the "Are you insane?" slow head shake and pitying stare.

( I know how that sounds, but it's How I Am, right?)

To be fair, he stopped when I asked him to please not do it; then he edged right away from me, so that was a result. And as good as it got.

That he started his spiel with: "This is not a veiled threat..." was ominous, that he used the phrase 'climate change' as often as if he had a bet on it was bizarre, that he spoke for what seemed like hours at a stretch without ever saying anything or finishing a sentence was awesome.

But not in a good way.

Did he answer the questions? Of course not. I can't decide if he really does have such low regard for us that he thought we wouldn't realise or if he's merely deluded.

Either Way - Wilco
Our Life Is Not A Movie, Or Maybe - Okkervil River
Resurrection Fern - Iron & Wine
Parker's Mood - Joe Henry
Blooming Heather - Kate Rusby
Parliament Hill Fields - Stephen Duffy
Creep - Radiohead


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