Sarah get your gun

I don't talk about work much because it's work and work is boring. But sometimes it's a little amusing so I'll talk about it.

Not that you may be interested but I'll speak nonetheless...

So I knew today was going to be a long day.

The driver was there to pick me up this morning at 5.15 and I got dropped off at 23.07. That's a 17-hour day.

When I know I'm going to have an ultra long day I make sure that everyone else is aware of it too.

To do this I dress as sloppily as possible.

Today I wore an old pair of trainers, torn jeans and a few layers of top, all of which hung out with the outermost layer being something I pulled out of the laundry basket. To complete the picture, I didn't shave either.

At least I believe in everyone's mind they think "he must be having a rough day therefore I shouldn't talk to him", so no-one does and I get things done faster.

Anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is terrible. I mean, truly awful.

Our office is large and spread out so we have a system to message each other via our computers, a bit like MSN Messenger. You type your message and then zap it off to the person you want to send it to.

This is to stop people shouting at each other across the room and it saves time, so you don't have to walk across to someone to ask them a simple but important question.

Like maybe you'd send "do you have that tape? can you bring please" or
"please look at link in script at 23'05 - think needs changing" or
"walking up now on your left - HOT!"

Yes, of course it gets used for gossip and slagging off. Like, "look what Janet's wearing - ohmygod..."

Well last night, after a very long day, we were just coming to the end of things and one of the girls was busy, busy, busy. But she's also useless, useless, useless.

If you offer to help, you just end up doing it anyway.

This all sounds mad but when you think that part of what I do goes live on telly, you can understand.

So said girl is generally panicking and making a lot of fuss and noise over not much.

I type a message to my mate Jones (I must tell you about Jones actually...), sitting between me and Sarah.

"Shame... someone needs to do the decent thing and take poor Sarah to a back office and hand her the gun. Jeez..."

I am about to send the message and because I'm not tired or thinking I type in Sarah's name and push send. Subconsciously, it's so easy to do...

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfkjafdkjfakhjfda. It's not like e-mail so you can't recall it. It pops up instantaneously.

Ohmygod. I can see her open it and I'm just going FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK....

The really awful thing is she didn't react. But she did quieten down. I suspect she'll complain about me. But fuckit - she's a load of hot air and anyway and she's not very good at all and I'm sure my boss will secretly agree with it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. If she confronts me I'll just say it was a joke and if I didn't want her to see it, why would I send it to her?! Even though, she too has probably done the same thing with this stupid messenger.

Whoops! Fuck.

Finally...

Here are three video grabs of me from Thursday.

They're part of a programme which goes out this weekend on TV. If you spot me on the box then you win the prize. But I dunno what the prize is yet.

Don't usually smile this much but that's what happens when the sun comes out.

Dahling - that's enough of filming me...