Be Excellent To Each Other

get a mac

am I doing this right?

I've just been stung by a fucking wasp (I think) at the bus stop. On the front of my neck. Fucking knacks. Fucking cunt wasp/unknown flying insect cunt. I didn't see what it was properly because I assume it flew away. Cunt.

Keep an eye on that mate - if it starts to swell too much and/or if you feel your airways becoming impinged, even slightly, get your arse down to A&E.

I hate wasps; they're the only insects (apart from green fly and shit like that on plants) that I make a point of killing.

Should have taken a taxi.

!!

It's still bloody hurting!

You're worse than Hitler. I demand fewer opacities!

Less opacity.

Damn you.

If it helps, my trousers are not opaque.

AAARRRGGHHH!!

The 'sneaky' proxy server I use for net access at work seems to have gone down so I'm stuck with the proper and fully filtered server everyone's supposed to use and Jesus shuddering Christ is it fucking ridiculous. I'm not ever talking about Twitter and whatnot which I don't care about, it filters out stuff like all blogs everywhere. Which makes investigating critical stuff like portable Chrome install errors and whatnot literally fucking impossible. I swear that right now if someone came up to me and introduced themselves as having ever been involved in the implementation of Websense in any way whatsoever I would gut them where they stood using only my fingernails.

Haha, Websense. I remember that during my time working for a massive global energy company (before they outsauced me).

I mean, you have my greatest sympathies.

... Their Béarnaise to your Béchamel, Myp?

Not that posh. Think more of a type of table sauce.

Gentleman's Relish?

Hey no worries mate, I'm that anonymous, unbranded red shite they squirt all over bacon butties at burger vans.

He works for Cuprinol.

I'm actually concerned that you may think I didn't type that on purpose now. It's as if none of you know me at all.

I know you. And you're far more vinegary than either a bearnaise or a bechamel. In fact you're vinegar.

Maybe if you kept one name for a while...

Wife has been landed with a(nother) £1300 dental bill.

Jesus fuck!

Brush better. and floss.

What is she, a walrus?

(But seriously, no disrespect and that.)

No, Janet Street-Porter.

Feex. Bring her some fahking champagne!

11 hours working last Saturday, last minute. 3 nights last week working past 9pm. Not going to be out of here before 9pm tonight. This weekend can't come soon enough.

My mate was over for his annual visit last week, now admittedly he is handsomely paid (comfortably over twice what I earn, where I buy a five year old Citroen on credit, he pays £30K cash for a brand new Lexus), but he's no millionaire and he's salaried, no overtime, no flexitime or shit like that.

He said that for the last few months his AVERAGE working day has been 10-11 hours, add on his commute and that's basically 13 hour days, five days a week, and one out of two weekends as well.

He leaves the house at 6:30am, gets home at around 9-10pm, eats something, watches a bit of telly, collapses into bed, wash rinse repeat.

We had quite an extensive chat about this situation and of course he knows it's absolute shit and he hates it, and whereas a few years ago this sort of work pattern for him was for crunch periods only, now it's basically how it is, all the time, with no prospect of it ever changing.

OK he's focused on retiring at 45 (single bloke, no wife no children, paid off his mortgage years ago, been saving like a bastard for years), but as I said to him, what kind of fucking life is that in the meantime?

Point being in all of this, something has gone badly wrong with life/work balance IMO. My mate was saying that in his workplace there are very few women, and absolutely zero mothers, as it's such an incredibly unfriendly work regime in family terms. There are fathers he works with who almost literally don't see their children during the working week, and they're so fucked at the weekend they've got no energy, and they're weighed down by knowing they're back in on Monday for more of the same.

People are not fucking robots, they need time and space to do their own stuff, a job is a means to an end, nothing more - when we become units of production we lose a big chunk of what makes us human.

That's a big reason why (other than being awful at dealing with stress) I don't ever really give a fuck about work. It has meant I'm not on six figures yet, but in terms of balance I'll take it.

AFFIRMATIVE.

Crikey, what business are you in?

you know the film "Along came Polly" he does what ben stiller did in that.

Shits himself?

Acts? No idea, I haven't seen it.

Some sort of risk assessment stuff for money companies, or something. (I think)

I'm a senior risk analyst, but not for the kind of risks from that film. I think. I've not actually seen it.

Ah cool. Like this?

He does this:

Not detailed strategic breakdowns of this, then?

No, this:



All day. Every day.

We've both taken that opt out. It wouldn't take much application for either of us to nail huge salaries, but at the cost of burn out in 5 years and then back to (ultimately) a lower salary that we have today, and ultimately ending up poorer. Fuck that.

Indeed. I don't give a crap about work, but I still own a number of responsibilities to my co-workers and the company. I don't work long hours to impress, I work long hours to fix shit that breaks.

Also, I spend most of my time dicking around on BeeX.

And yes, I'm still at my desk.

That's probably why you're still in the office at 21:49

Well yes. I don't take my desk home with me.

I'm just sucking cock where I can, trying to move up in the world.

I meant the beex thing

I await the best time for a putsch. It is close.

And I opt out of that by having a less responsible job.

Though my current financial situation might mean I have to start trying to move up, which sucks.