“Ohh, isn’t it awful weather lately?” people keep saying. “It feels like it’s winter already.”
Well, the weather doesn’t bother me.
Cool days are a good thing. Summer heat is too hot. A cool grey breezy day is relaxed, the sort of day work can get done. A windier day is energetic, the sort of day you want to do work. Both are useful.
Rain is a good thing. Rain doesn’t bother me either. I don’t mind walking in it, getting slightly wet, when I can always get dry again later.
The one other reason the weather doesn’t bother me, though: I rarely see it anyway. I don’t smoke. Room 3B (The IT Office) has no windows. I’m insulated. Some days I wish there was a cool grey breeze on me, instead of the standard filtered and air-conditioned air that flows out of the ceiling vent.* But, nevertheless, the weather doesn’t bother me.
* Although we had to fight to get it, if you remember back that far.
Room 3B (the IT Office) lies deep inside the building. We never get fresh air, and there’s never any sign what time of day it is outside, or what the weather’s doing. Rain, sun, snow, whatever, nothing ever reaches Room 3B.
Until today, that is. Today, it was so windy, the wind broke through. A horrible howl burst from the air conditioning, before suddenly a huge cloud filled the room. A cloud of dust and chunks of plaster, blown out of the ceiling void through all the little joints in the ceiling. I spluttered and coughed, as pale pink dust settled on me, on Wee Dave, all over our desks. The weather had finally broken in.
Work is not good at the moment. We are supposed to be doing impossible things, in tiny amounts of time. Our contractors are getting angrier, and our management is refusing to manage. We’re sending warnings upwards, about things that don’t work, things that we don’t know work, and things that haven’t even been tried; the management isn’t listening, so later they can claim they didn’t even know. Our department is becoming less and less popular by the minute, because of the black hole it’s creating. The work is leaving me lightheaded, tired, and listless. Then again, that could equally be explained by the bad ventilation in the office.*
Me and Big Dave are in a game of chicken at the moment. A game of chicken, to see who dares send in their resignation letter first.
* The feelings I have by 5pm every day – anger, irritibility, tiredness, listlessness, light-headedness – are all symptoms of hypoxia, or blood oxygen shortage.
It’s that Friday post again…
It’s also getting into the hayfever season. I’m already getting complaints about the volume of my sneezes. This morning, though, whilst getting dressed I sneezed. And fell over. With one sneeze, my back became a little world of pain. I could barely move, and had to lie on the floor whimpering for ten minutes in the hope it would go away. It still hurts quite a lot as I’m sat writing this.
Things I’ve been thinking about a lot this week: the rubbish choice we have in the local elections, Flann O’Brien, and the Plain People Of The Internet. Expect them to pop up here again soon.
Following up Tuesday’s post: our ventilation fight with the Office Manager goes on. His latest claim is that it would be illegal for us to prop the door open, under the fire regulations. In retaliation, I now have a digital thermometer on my desk. At least The Boss is starting to weigh in on our side, having realised just how warm our office gets. Currently we’re at 22.3 Celsius and rising.
There was a bit of a spike in blog traffic the other day; it turns out I was spidered by a mysterious site which consists solely of an “under construction” page. How 1990s of them. I suppose it’s my own fault for not setting up
Current temperature: 23.8 Celsius and rising. Sorry, 23.9.* I’m off to get a glass of water.
*** or 75.2 if you’re American. Although it went up to 76.3 in the time it took me to write this footnote.