Trainers handing in their notice: 2
Untrustworthy colleagues : 2
Whiney bastard trainees : 5
Hot babe trainees stopping by just to say 'Hello' : 1

Mondays are always difficult enough as it is, but when you kind of get 'jumped on' as soon as you arrive ... well, let's just say that you know instinctively that things aren't going to be too rockin' hot

I arrived this morning to find that two trainers, who're half way though their probationary period, have decided to call it a day - they both turfed out their lockers, grabbed their stuff, handed in their keys and said 'Cheerio, we're off !!' - and so leaving a bunch of unhappy, paying people, twiddling their thumbs

Added to that, BoyIdiot (who incidentaly has taken a day off) stuck his mucky fingers into a pot that he really shouldn't have - he made out invoices for one of my clients without looking at the history files - which left me a bit of splainin' to do ...

And another plonker who created a new 'double' customer file - more splainin' to do

All of that, plus a ton of grief from MargeTheAccountsWoman who'd had an ear bashing from one of my littler clients who couldn't understand why we'd billed her and not a fund collecting organisation (she hadn't done admin stuff properly, so the organisation couldn't release the funds)

Does it make one wonder why i really hate Mondays ...

D!oh D!oh D!oh

Where do i start ...

Ever since TheGorgone - who organises the workload of my trainers - left us to put forth unto an unsuspecting world her sprog (Lucifer/Beelzebub/Damien call him whatever you will) we've had a succession of replacements that've all proven to be as usefull as a vicar overseeing a shagfest in a brothel

The newest recruit, then, phoned in sick on monday leaving us with no-one to open or close 'la boutique'

Which means ... (sigh) ... i'm counting the minutes before i have to go to bed and get up again at the crack of later on today (for me at any rate) to open the doors at 7.45

I'm going to be dead on my feet by midday and in the afternoon i'm supposed to be giving another very formal presentation to a potential client that i have (or had) high hopes for doing business with

Caffeine won't be enough and class 'A' drugs ain't my bag - i can see tomorrow being a paddle up shit street without a paddle ... or even an inflatable dinghy for help

It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world ...

I've been back to the grind for three whole weeks now and it feels as though i've never been away - i've managd to catch up a bit and am 'only' two weeks behind with my admin stuff :'(

I went out to visit my favorite DRH this afternoon where, after a good half hour of chitchatting about the summer holidays, she dropped the humdinger: her WorldCompany are going to stop centralising the training budget and 'empower' middle managers so that they have control over their own budgets.

If you are/ever have been in middle management you'll understand the full implication of that one for guys like me :'(

On 'the other' front: Enola's come back to visit us (me) .. and another ex has also let me know that she'll be back in paris soon ... i've already got my hands well and truly filled as it is (which explains why, incidentally, i've been posting more and more infrequently) ... the words 'rat', 'like a' and 'cornerd' constantly buzz around in my amphibian peabrain like a swarm of unwelcome mosquitos :'( :'( ... right now, i just want to run away and bury my sorry head in the sand and make it all go away ... i want to be ... Howard Hughes

Or
Reggie Perrin

Quite unexpectedly, on monday, i met up with the P.A and an underling ofa guy closely linked to the ministry of education who wanted to talk about my WorldCorp, what we do and other technical stuff

This evening, as i was leaving, his P.A called to say that i'd been 'summonsed'to see the head honcho - if Google is anything to go by, 'tis he with the golden pen whosigns the documents for all and everything that concerns french teaching institutions : HEC, Dauphine, St Cyr ...

He especially lnked to the ENA, which (if you're familiar with the workings of the french old-boy network) supplies the country with it's bourgois politicians - the 'enarques' as they're called here ... the guy has his fingers every where and in every pie that's worth *ahem* fingering

I can't say that i'm feeling stressed out or apprehensive about the whole yhing, but i'm hughly aware that i need to be extremely attentive - i may have a good level of french and can pretty much get away with murder, but i can see that everything is going to hinge on my ability to adopt the same register that he does

It's all too easy to be lured into franglish: business creeps in all too easily instead of 'entreprise', balance sheet instead of 'bilan' ... i can waffle on for hours about EBITA and balanced score cards but what's the equivalent in french ? (it doesn't exist !)

Partisan, moi ? !!...

Stuff picked up from around the web ... click on the images to open in a new, bigger, brighter and better, new fangled window

This has been lifted, with a few edits from Rain's blog (many hugs, smaxxx and thank you's) ... i hope to do her justice

Zé rules (+/-) :

*Copy the list
*Bold all items you’ve eaten
*Cross out any items that you would never, ever, consider putting into your mouth orifice
*Optional extra: explain why/why not

Venison - heuuuu, i've never ever eaten road kill, but people have told me its good ... with a good sauce, that is

Nettle tea- Nettles, as in stinging nettles !?! ... things that make you scritch and scratch ?... s'not , not really for me

Huevos rancheros - WTF !?! Ranchers eggs ? Do ranchers produce eggs .. like 'man's eggs' ? ... have i ever put man 'eggs' in my mouth .. NO never, that's not my thang .. although i imagine we' could be talking about turtle eggs. In that case i would just say no as a principle

Steak tartare - You bet your life, but only fresh beef and with good, home-made fries

Crocodile - noooooooooooo, never.. it'd be a shame to ruin good handbags with tooth marks

Black pudding - Luverly stuff, either as part of a 'traditional english breakfast' or just with some sautéd apples and potatoes and a green salad

Cheese fondue - The season will soon be upon us .. i'll be eating fondue or raclette

Carp - Byeuuurk noooooo way ... that's a fish that makes me think of the Pulp fiction scene 'Royale with cheese' ... there's no way on earth that i'd eat Carp ... not even carp flavoured chips

Borscht - that's luvverly stuff, the time is now to start making it (beetroot are still sweet and tender,but not too much soo)

Baba ghanous - Only in my worst night mares

Calamari - Arghhhh, not even the promise of a night of the most wontonest sex would make me swallow a bite of squidgy stuff

Pho - Euh ... and i say 'phooey'

PB&J sandwich - Why not... as long as can go and kill the PBJ meself :@)

Aloo gobi - No problem (with a bit of saffron rice, naturally enough)

Hot dog from a street cart - It depends on the street

Epoisses - Ôooooooooooooooooooooooooo, no problem

Black truffle - A smidgen, either on a nice, un-sophisticated risotto, or on a tartare de noix de St Jaques

Fruit wine made from something other than grapes - Yeah, yeah, yeah !! No worries

Steamed pork buns - Yup, but it really depends on where though

Pistachio ice cream - Hmm ...from time to time ... vanilla or chocolate are my faves though

Heirloom tomatoes - Salad optional ?

Fresh wild berries - Yup

Foie gras - Héhéhéh .. of course !

Rice and beans - Of the 'pffft smelly noises under the sheet variety' ? I can eat them morning, noon and night

Brawn, or head cheese - Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, never

Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper- Pickled or stewed ? Yup ... but raw ? Only for a bet

Dulce de leche -Lecher !?! c'est ma spécialité ;@p

Oysters - Nope, they're just not my bag

Baklava - Hmmmmmmmm, love it

Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons - Beggin'

This is the Pilooski version from 2007 ...

Back to the grind then ...

The Guv'nor has settled in over the summer period and has come up with a few, extra, time consuming things to do

MissusBossWoman has sent a few e-mails to let me know that she's settled in nicely in her new job in Moscow, but, oooh my goodness, how frighteningly expensive it is to live there (i admit that i do miss her)

Marge, the wicked accounts woman from the east, in a pique of efficiency, has printed out a list of my unpaid bills (the list of shame, as i call it)

On friday morning there'll be a meeting with the Guv'nor, his boss (Jacquouille), BoyIdiot and .. euhhh .. me and my list

I'm going to have some 'splainin' to do on that one :-/

And ...

Enola is coming back ;@)

Once we were five ...

At the start of my teens, i used to hang around with Ged, Charlie, Marco and Horse

Ged was the hot head, always ready for a punch up at the slightest excuse - usually over a chick that he'd been trying to squire all evening

Whilst Horse was the mediator "Hold on boys, calm down , there's no need for all that ..." , Marco was the cheerleader : "gwaaaaan Ged, do 'im .."

Charlie and i were the 'strategic reinforcements' - if it looked like hospital food was a distinct possibility for someone, we'd dive in, fists a-flailing, ready to dish out what was coming in a bar fight stylie

At school (high school, if you're from the U.S or Lycée if you're french) we'd be the bunch who'd manage to get the teachers in our pockets and slope off for extra sport lessons or hang around under the railway arches (or the toilets) for a sly smoke

We were the the unseperable crew who, at the age of fifteen/sixteen, would smuggle a bottle of hooch to liven up the end of the year party ( girls= no problemo)

The bunch of us , who at eighteen, during 'A' level study breaks, would be in the nearest bar (with the physics teacher) downing innumerable pints of guinness at the lunch break

After college, we all went our seperate ways, only to meet up sporadically at 'important' periods

Like the time when Ged, decided to pack his bags for a trip around Greece which lasted for a year or so, or the time when Charlie took the plunge and moved in with his favorite squeeze, or when Marco moved 'up north' for his job, or Horse, on a spur of the moment idea, went off to hitchhike his way around eastern europe ..

In 1998, Ged and Horse came to France for a visit. We saw the sites and did the touristic visits.

I was Ged's best man for his wedding in ireland in 2002

The years passed and we all gradually lost contact, as happens

Until last weekend

Ged phoned my ex on saturday, evidently unaware that we'd split up. She sent me an e-mail saying that i should phone him 'urgently'

I called him on sunday afternoon :

Me : " hey buddyboy ! what's up ? "
Ged : "Horse has died"