The Friday afternoon of a Bank Holiday weekend is like some strange juxtaposition of the planets in our office.

The extended weekend, absence of any senior staff and lax adherence to a normal working day leading to mass communal migration

Somewhere in this forest of silence I hear a solitary keyboard clicker.

Just me and the burning boy on the deck now..


I like a good moan about slacking work colleagues and this week has produced a rich vein of blatant loafing.

It was capped off yesterday by someone coming back from a two week holiday and going home at lunch-time because the poor lamb was suffering jet lag. I almost choked on my Jammy Dodger.

They rang in this morning saying they couldn’t sleep the previous night, were still in the thrall of jet lag and would try, I say try, and get in this afternoon.

Well, that is mighty big of them to ‘try’ and make the effort to come in. I think they are in line for a Purple Heart for such self sacrifice.

Just for the record, when someone says they will try and do something they usually won’t.

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