Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Friday, March 25, 2011

25 March - Office bitching & W & Ivy

Office bitching wasa alive and well yesterday and today. Yesterday someone had enough and marched over to the desk of someone higher in the pecking order to say 'I won't be talked to/at like this'. Then off for tears (yes it was a lady). Today I was asked by the higher pecking order how he could change lower pecking order person and have myself tend to his sphere of work. I said it's not done at your level (sorry to burst bubbles of importance) plus how popular would that make me? then I proceded to suggest to each that the other really wanted to apologise and therefore the olive branch was forthcoming. If you flatter someone that they other thinks they made a huge mistake in offending blah blah , it gets sorted. Calm restored. I was about to write to the foreign office and offer some mediation with Gaddafi/Qaddafi/Gheddafi (I mean who's reaching out to him now heh? Who's forgetting which park they gave him to pitch his tent of the 40 female bodyguards heh?) but then I had a meltdown of my own and called HR to ask how best act in order to get a logorrhoic (spelling?) colleague to stop talking on the phone to her family various time a day , every day and then insist on telling me the contents of the conversation I've just heard! About washing machine repairs or health issues or orange phone bills addressed to the wrong recipient or haircuts of only an inch taken off all around etc. It should be simple, you get up and declare 'you bore me to tears you fool, shut the fuck or go use a phone in another level/building /town, oh go home and visit in fact'. But you can't do that. I should suggest she starts a blog and gets her mother/father/washing machine man to read it. 'And I said... and he said... then I said.. and he said...' Or I could ask to be sat opposite Bill Gates, he must have some good stories to tell his ma? So enough of all that, will go check the W bar tomorrow and then the club at the Ivy, just because you can't let all the new or relatively new places pass you by.

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