All the fun's been sucked from my job, and I don't even have a hickey to feel smug about.
Thanks to the "new regime" (corporate-speak for "cuts, fear and weirdness"), my whole approach has changed.
I haunt my email, desperate for distraction (I even read Guy's endless sexist joke emails), and constantly pump sound into my ears to deaden my brain (Melyvn Bragg or Girls Aloud, it's all the same).
Lordie, it's been years since I've put a CV together, but there it is. Number 5 on my action list. After "Prepare Budget Projection" and before "Submit Task Spec Spreadsheet".
Suddenly my job isn't about creativity. It's about spreadsheets.
Yeah - I'm trapped in a double maths lesson. All we have to do is conduct business in French and throw in Rugby practice and it'll be school hell all over again.
Sparkling Cyanide (1945)
1 year ago