Once upon a time, not too long ago,
I heard a story from a friend, I'm gonna call him Joe.
Joe didn't have the number of our mobile phone,
And for this story, let's all call me Joan.

One day Joe got SMSd but the number said "unknown",
He texted back to get a name, and the reply just said "Joan".
Joe didn't know anyone else by that old-fashioned name,
But since he knew me so well, he thought we were one and the same.

He messaged Joan day and night, with messages quite lewd,
But one day the replies stopped coming and he thought "how rude".
Joe got more and more upset until one Friday night,
He decided to tell tales on me and told others of his replyless plight.

But when he told the story, I was very surprised to hear,
That "I" had been messenging him since way before New Year.
You see, I don't have his number, it isn't even my mobile phone,
It's just a modern-day coincidence, with the other Joan unknown.

I want to know who this other Joan is, in case she steals my life,
With all her text-messagery, she might cause me a ton of strife.
For in this day of tech overload, we're just one number away,
From another random happening that'll cause me to rhyme all day.

You don't want this rhyming to happen, 'cos one day you will run out,
And have to use words that don't fit, like bout, pout and tiling grout.
And you won't be able to think how to end the poem, so you'll decide
To just finish the silly little ditty in the middle of a

• skive a lot
• instant messenger a-go-go
• not feel self-conscious about eating crap
• not feel guilty coming in five minutes late/going home five minutes early
• not have to justify my bizarre working patterns to anyone else
• make freudian slips involving the word "muff" as i did in the company of some sane people on friday night and not be embarrassed (as I was momentarily then)

http://burks.bton.ac.uk/burks/internet/rfcs/rfcs/24/rfc2324.htm

Plus, this (presumably hamster-powered) computer isn't capable of supporting MSN (*spits*) instant messenger or whatever so I don't have that to play on either. I've had a chance to catch up on Xmas related emailing though so it hasn't all been bad.

I wish I had done a degree in something exciting like the Media, then I wouldn't be stuck in a deadend job like this one*.

Just emailed someone from uni though and told him that I have rediscovered that I stand a better chance of realising my lifelong dream, to be a writer, if I actually write something. He wrote back saying suggesting some titles for films I could pen while in my present mind frame: "Office Slaughter 3: This time it is administrative", "The Boss Who Got Shredded" and "Stop Before I Staple You". Watch this space, party people, watch this space.

* Okay. So I did do a degree in Media and still ended up in a deadend job. Oh the i'ony.

GAHHHHHHHHH.

Also - a personal message to my Secret Santa:
I am the worst person to buy presents for ever. EVER.
In the words of Nelson Munz: ha ha.

I'm staying with Plimsole at the moment (because I was bad in a past life and this is my punishment) and anyway, we got in about 9pm last night from Leeds and I set up the luddite's new printer before she gave me a drink of water.

At least I think it was water. It seemed to have a powdery sheen on the top of it but I thought it was just the funny water you get down this way. But then things started going sway-ee, like in a Scooby Doo cartoon and my eyesight went all blurry (more so than its myopic norm). Anyway, to cut out all the rest of the stumbling and the drowsiness and the vomiting (oy oy oy), the next thing I know it is 12 hours later and I'm covered in bizarre scratches, whip marks and some chaffing that I haven't had since I made "Geek Sex: This time it's tentacle" for Geek-ware productions.

I have no idea what happened but I think, *think* there may be some pictures. If anyone sees any, could they forward them to me so I can try to piece together those missing 12 hours without the need of expensive therapy*? Thanks.

* I can't afford therapy as I seem to be spending a small fortune on vaseline and "Weekend at Bernie's" videos.

I can't believe it has taken just over a month but I am having my first serious regret about turning down the job that I was offered at the end of October.

I didn't get the job that I interviewed for this morning which is a bummer but not all that surprising - I fared pretty well when they told me and had some "i'm being so mature about this and understand" emails to friend in another department. Then my boss (who was on the interview panel) came in to give me more feedback (but also to support me as my line manager) and I stayed pretty calm and collected because I knew the points he was making were fair (I don't have enough management experience blah, blah, blah). When he left though, I felt the need to cry like a girl because I'm knackered and think I have the flu coming on. I'm so glad it is the weekend.

Only ray of light in this abyss-esque thing is that the person who I thought would get it - my new MLC to some degree - didn't get it either and the person who got the job I don't know that well so don't really resent her for getting it.

I know I would have regretted it if I had not applied/interviewed for the job but that isn't much comfort right now.

Bahh! Gahh! and other such words.

I really, really do.

I had three separate nightmares about this one last night.

With this and that whole big review thing last week, my stress levels are through the roof. Oh, isn't work SO much fun?

Gahh.

My dept has been subject to a lovely, not-at-all-draconian-and-time-wasting, government review this week (meaning I have worked *FAR* too much since I was one of the central people in the whole thing from our side). Anyway, we got top marks, 24/24, so everyone loves me and I haven't been hugged by so many people in my life (and I'm not a huggy person so this was not really welcomed). Got lots of "we love you" presents so I feel really appreciated. I suspect that this state of positivity towards work will last until approximately 8.45 on Monday morning. Ah well, for tonight at least *starts dancing again* I rule. I rule. I RRUUUUUULLLE....