I have to go to North London on Friday for what is cheerily described as a Disaster Recovery Test.
This involves me going to a new office up there that has been recently built and is described as a shining example of something or other. The whole point is to prove that I can continue to perform the exercise in futility that is my job from an alternate location should Leatherhead fall to the aliens, as predicted by H.G.Wells.
There's no nice way of putting this, if alien death machines did land and wipe out this part of Surrey, the reaction of the rest of the country would be something akin to 'How much is your fucking shoe-box flat worth now dickhead?!'. We're a pleasant people.
Anyway, I digress. Leatherhead - a rubblesome, smouldering heap. Me, off to North London to continue my important and vital work. Presumably, whatever disaster/terrorist assault/alien invasion/stampede has struck Leatherhead has avoided the city of 7.5 million people that is about 20 miles up the road.
The office in question is being built, and apparently quite combustible. I'm told it's caught fire 'a few times' during the building phase, as with other cost-saving initiatives my genius employers taking the idea of hotdesking to a whole new high. Fuck-off, everyone needs a pun every now and then if only to be reminded how painful they are.
Talking of hotdesking, I don't have a hotdesk, I have a permanent desk. I've just been told that I now have to book the use of my own desk, or some other dithering fuckwit (ie, a dithering fuckwit who is not me) can come and use my desk. This, apparently, is to encourage me to record when I am not here so that some other dithering fuckwit can use my desk and mess up all my mess.
I have decided to see what happens if I do not follow this new genius policy, I suspect it will go something like this:
ME: Hi. You're sat at my desk
DFW: I booked this desk; you'll have to go somewhere else
Me: Uh-huh. It's my desk though, if I could do my work from anywhere I'd be at home in my pyjamas eating toast.
DFW: I'm afraid I booked this desk; you'll have to make other arrangements
Me: If you can work from anywhere, which apparently you can - including a desk that is evidently mine, it has my name on it and everything!- then why aren't you at home in your pyjamas eating toast?!
DFW: I have work to do!
Me: And I have toast to eat, but let me just take your email address so I can refer all questions to you OK?
Me: Well I assume you will be adopting my role for the day? Don't worry, I'm good with faces I'll go ahead and set up an Out of Office reply and go eat toast, have a good day!
I'm not sure of the logic. I'm essentially going to have an excuse to go home.
You see how good I am at taking the negative and turning it into the positive? That's right; I am the optimistic King of turning the frown upside down.
Though if you think about it that would just look a bit weird. 'Mate! What the fuck is going on with your forehead! You look like a failed Klingon!'
Anyway, I am going to do more work now.