a note for first-timers

If it's your first time here and you're new to blogs, the first post you'll see is the most recent so that's where you should be ending, rather than starting. Otherwise, carry on...

Please, feel free to comment - you know you want to.

work is for losers. I lost.

Well, the holiday is over. Of course. All good things must come to an end, they say, and not being at work is most definitely a good thing. A very good thing.

Wombat (H), it seems, has elected to postpone her torturous return until the last possible moment. In contrast, I thought the traffic would be horrible (are the schools not open today?) so I left early and got in even earlier. Not than I left; just than I needed to be. It took me fifty minutes of being bored, replying to the one new email for today - the others were appearing on this computer for the first time but had appeared on my one at home over the festive period - and generally hearing about everyone else's Christmas before I decided to bail out and climb aboard the boat to Blogsville.

Dinky just turned up. I thought it might have been Wombat but she's still doing the sensible thing and sitting in her car instead of at her desk. It wouldn't surprise me if she was actually in the carpark and contemplating just starting the car up again and driving home. I'm considering it myself. Seriously considering it.

It's been a few days since I wrote on here, has it not? Actually, this is my first entry of 2005. I've spent the last few days sailing the Caribbean (a place name I always struggle to spell - two r's feel right, but look far from it), blowing other vessels out of the water - or boarding them and stealing all their stuff - and pretending to be Captain Jack Sparrow. I've even done the voice on a couple of occasions, though there's unfortunately no option to customise the look of your character. Shame.

Oh, you think I'm talking about playing a game on a computer rather than actually doing it? How mistaken you are, people. How very mistaken. I was really there. I did woo several Governers' daughters. I did marry a Dutch one and then seek for a way to divorce her (or commit bigamy) so I could marry a French one. I did personally see to the demise of nine of the most notorious pirates ever to sail the Caribbean waters, as well as a host of other less (in)famous ones. I did find several lost cities and I did go treasure hunting and find several different X's.

So there. You've been told. Ha!

Wombat's still not in. Perhaps she really has turned the car around and gone home. She could be caught in traffic, I suppose. Or she could be taking today off for some reason - I think she got back from her Christmas in another country yesterday. Or she could still be sat in the carpark considering her options. Either way, she's not here. Not fair.

Much more importantly than not liking being at work today is what it means for my sleeping patterns: since I have to get out of bed at six thirty (or so), I can't really be on the phone to my young lady until much past two - that's even more unfair than Wombat not being in. I'm wondering whether it's better to go to bed earlier (no mean feat) and wake up at about five to speak to S. Whether I continue with my current strategy or adopt the new one, I'll not be getting much more than about four hours of sleep each night - plenty for a twenty-six year old otter, wouldn't you say? I have Saturday and Sunday mornings to replenish my slumber supplies in any case.

Right, I'm supposed to be working. At work. What a strange philosophy that is. It's not my philosophy but I guess it's the one I have to adhere to, at least for the time being, so I'd best finish for now and get a wriggle on. Little doubt I shall return ere the day is out...