New Year's Eve 2015

I am currently tapping out this blog post via my Samsung Galaxy S6 - yes readers, I've finally upgraded the S3 and I'm beyond excited. I downloaded the Blogger App via the Play Store and it's a really handy way of recording one's thoughts.

My exact location is Father's living room. I'm perched on the end of the sofa and Auntie Barb's three cats are occupying the rest of the space. They're moulting too - I think the unseasonally warm weather has caused this. Heaven help them if there's a sharp frost in January!  Mind you, Auntie Barb has knitted them all onesies to retain  their body heat.

Must go - Father's burning the sausage rolls in the kitchen. Happy New Year!

Merry Catmus

May I just take this opportunity to wish all of my readers a wonderful Christmastime, a bit like Paul McCartney and Wings did back in the 1970s, but I have my doubts doubt whether he actually paid for a round of drinks in the public house filmed the accompanying video in.  Bah.  Well, I've currently popped back home to the flat, ostensibly to 'stretch my legs', but mainly because I want to get away from Father and Auntie Barb, not forgetting Jon Jon, Captain Beefcake and Priscilla Duckweed.  Yes, they're cats, they're frigging cats - spoiled furry bastards the lot of them.

After a Christmas dinner consisting of three pork chops, some ‘pigs in blankets’ and an array of tired vegetables, I went to investigate the third bedroom which is to become my ‘pad’ after January.  It was depressing to say the least – it was inch high in cat fur and smelt of flea powder.  Barb followed me upstairs and moaned that her ‘babies’ had got very used to lying on the single bed and would most probably retain their position on the top of the Holly Hobbie duvet cover whether I was resident or not.  Nice.  

The Central File Repository's Annual Christmas Drinks

Today I returned to work after a week's sick leave following a bad cold.  Unfortunately it coincided with the festive drinks do.  We were all told to bring in a certain item of food which were all detailed on Simeon from Finance's Excel Spreadsheet.  My French Stick was criticised because the end of it got lopped off as, due to its length, it got broken as I travelled through the ticket barriers this morning.  Simeon was most displeased and told me that would mean that I was permitted 15% less food than everyone else.  Huh.

Smelly Danny brought in some already opened dips and considering the rumours that I'd heard about his strange behaviour, I wasn't prepared to place a breadstick in any of the four trays - actually, few people did.  The event began at noon with a game of 'pass the parcel' - the prize being a set of those rubber correspondence thimbles which are barely any use in these days of the so-called 'paperless office'.  Internal Comms had run a competition for the best festive blog entry and this, written by Sarah Carstairs was the winning entry:

"I have worked in the Central File Repository since I left school aged 16 in 1993; my mum worked there and said that it was great fun and that you could eat your body weight in Digestive biscuits on Thursday afternoon.  I gained employment as a paperkeeper and my so my sterling career began!!!

In December 2015 I was honoured to be awarded 'The Best Paperkeeper In The World: Ever' in respect of the longevity of my employment and the simple fact that I'd never been promoted in my twenty-two years of working here.  I don't mind - Christmas means filing for me, it always has and always will.  Sometimes I even wrap tinsel around my trolley!!!  I once wore a flashing hat and won the award for 'best Christmas jumper' in my local pub two years ago!!!!

I sometimes think I love work so much because I'm a very lonely person at heart.  Mum died in 2001 and Dad turned to drink soon after.  I cannot afford to buy property in London, so still live in my parents' loft.  I race pigeons on Sundays."

I spent the rest of the 'do' hiding out in the stationery cupboard, returned to my desk at 2pm and then left the office by 3pm.  That's it for another year!

Alastair Crowley's One Day Travelcard

Yesterday morning at approximately 9:45am I received a call on my mobile phone - it was from Alastair Crowley (you know, he from the South London Board Games League and subsequent strange email conversation ...)  Anyway, the upshot was that he'd had to vacate his flat for the day because his housemate had invoked Satan's rage last Thursday and as a result, an emergency exorcism had to take place today.  To escape the confines of his zone 4 south London flat (ex-council) he'd bought a zones 1-6 travelcard and thought that I'd like to join him on his epic journey on the Sabbath.  Believing there to be nothing better to do and with the notion that I'd soon lose the flat, I agreed.

We met at Lewisham Station.  Why you may ask?  Well, it's because the majority of the London Termini were closed this weekend because of the extensive engineering work which has been taking place for ages now.  I recognised him immediately as I spotted his hat peeping out of the crowd milling around the entrance to the DLR station.  He looked slightly thinner, somewhat sinister, but was sporting a huge grin, which was pleasant.

We boarded a train bound for Stratford as he was keen to see the DLR's relatively new extension up there.  He took a great number of photographs along the way and was somewhat disconcerted that the front seats of the driverless trains were packed full of children, causing him to exclaim "what is the world coming to?"  When we arrived at Stratford I was keen to divert into the Westfield Shopping Centre, but he didn't agree, stating that "Christmas shopping's a bally nightmare." and duly sat on a nearby bench and pulled a battered pack of homemade sandwiches out of his tatty bag.  Until now I'd never believed that boiled egg and pickled onion complemented one another in a sandwich and quite frankly, I was right - they stank!

When Alastair had finished his lunch he took out his tube map and suggested that we should journey onto Epping because "there was a particularly interesting species of woodlouse living under the platform."  Exciting as that sounded, I declined and pretended to receive a text on my phone from Auntie Barb stating that one her cats had escaped.  With that, I made my excuses and left.

More Bad News - Eviction Blues

I was settling down on the sofa to watch Bargain Hunt when there was a knock at the door.  Shuffling across the floor in my slippers I spied a bulky figure outside which transpired to be my landlord, the downstairs cafe owner, Mr Osmond.  The conversation went as thus:

Mr Osmond (MO): "Good afternoon Miss Weaver, I have been instructed by my solicitor to hand you this

[Osmond hands me an official looking document]

MO: It's an eviction notice Miss Weaver.  As you may be aware, The Ravey Gravy Cafe isn't doing as well as it could be in the current climate and I'm planning a new business venture which will encompass the current cafe premises in addition to both of the upstairs flats.

Me: Right - so what are you planning to do?

MO: I've often thought that what this immediate area needs is a day spa - I see thousands of weary commuters emerge from the station each day and wonder whether I could tap into their business needs by offering relaxing massages, steam treatments and pedicures?

Me: Don't you need a special licence for that kind of business?

MO: Yes indeed, but Councillor Parker is a very amenable man, especially after I hosted last year's Mayor's Charity Pie Eating Competition.

Me: What else can I say?  When do I have to leave the flat?

MO: Thirty days from the date of receipt of the letter, which was yesterday - so Saturday, 16th January 2016.  Have you anywhere to move to?

Me: Not that you care, but yes, my father and aunt live nearby, if I could persuade my aunt to move her cat cave out of the small bedroom then I could go there for a while?

MO: That's great news Miss Weaver.  To compensate you for your troubles I can offer you a voucher for a free pie and chips for two patrons during the month of December.  My seasonal turkey, pea and sprout pie is going down very well with the local building community.

Me: I bet it is.  Thank you - there's nothing much else I can say or do is there?

MO: Not really, I'm sorry to lose your custom Miss Weaver because you've always been a good, quiet and clean tenant, unlike your downstairs neighbour, Mr Saunderson, whose filthy abode is a disgrace to the block.

Me: Indeed, but Mr Saunderson's life has been a sad one since he was sacked from the Co-op for hitting one of his colleagues over the head with a frozen lamb chop.

MO: That is as may be Miss Weaver, but we're all put on this Earth for a reason; and hitting one's fellow man over the head with a frozen piece of meat isn't part of Our Lord's Greater Plan.  Good day to you."

[MO exits, not followed by a bear]

A Seasonal Cold and Possible Redundancy

I have been stricken by a bad cold for the past few days and am therefore extremely grateful for family members' support.  I am, not at work, but I'm concerned as I just received this email pinged to my personal account.

PERSONAL - ADDRESSEE ONLY

15th December 2015

Dear Miss Weaver

RE: Redundancies

I am writing to you to inform you of the result of the Senior Management Meeting which took place on Thursday, 10th December and the result of which was duly cascaded down to staff on the following day.  As you were not present I thought it best to write to you directly to keep you in the loop.

As you may be aware, the fiscal situation of the UK has been an issue for a while, thence we are making cuts of up to 43%.  To achieve this we have decided to make a number of redundancies within the Department.  Instead of the usual voluntary option we have decided to host a day's Assessment Centre for all employees - it will be sectioned by grade and the victors will retain their positions, the unsuccessful will not.  The date of the Assessment Centre has not been formally agreed, although it will take place at the end of January/early February - the venue will be a secret central London location.

I would like to thank you for your years of service to date.

Yours sincerely

Celia Broom
HR