And so it begins

I've been summoned by my boss. That would be my new boss who, contrary to expectations, is not the same as the old boss. I forgot to mention....owing to the loss of will to live....that the consultation process is over, the final paper has been published and the new boss, who was many people's old boss, was slotted neatly in without so much as a nod in the direction of an interview. So much for the democratic process then. I've been waiting for the call for three days: I'm surprised it took that long what with marked cards and payback time. I bet she's rubbing her hands with glee although, in doing so, she will have dropped the poisoned chalice she's just taken possession of. Enough already.

For a past-time, I'm wrapping presents. I watched my daughter doing this the other evening. Talk about multi-tasking: she had the whole lot done in an hour max whilst simultaneously eating a curry, downing a bottle of plonk....we each had our own due to colour preference - red for me, pink for her...answering a few texts and slotting in X Factor in between the Alan Bennett evening. Me, I've been wrapping mine for about six weeks. I average two a night. This evening, I had extra owing to having been allotted the task of dealing with the old boss's leaving presents which have been deposited in green crepe paper within a handy box file. I told them I wasn't much good at that sort of thing but they're all too busy counting their happy pills to be bothered.

My son was due home from uni on Sunday except that now he's not coming because he's going to a boot camp for young entrepreneurs somewhere in the land of the sheep. His best offer was a lift on Monday to any given point on the M4. Reading it is then. From here, he'll get a train to Poole. Somewhat stupidly, I suggested that we didn't really need a Christmas tree this year and had been out and bought a few sparkly branches to hang the odd bauble off. Mind you, I did make a bit of an effort: was stunned to discover you can buy a tree for three quid from Asda. So I did. Got it home and opened it...it looked like a three quid tree from Asda and now it's back in its box. I could hear the disappointment in the silence on the other end of the phone and will now, of course, buy a proper tree some time between now and next Monday.

I asked the new boss if she wanted me to bring anything to the meeting. 'No, it's just a little chat' came the response. 'Well, I would like to see your appraisal objectives and your work plan' came the afterthought which was really a primary thought. I do actually have the former. Didn't know there was plan for work though: thought you just turned up, sold your soul, stayed there until you couldn't physically stand any longer, then spent a pleasant forty minutes in assorted traffic jams trying to get home again.