"That sweet wrapper is still there. I'm not moving it!" Tizzy is still digging her heels in.
I still haven’t met the new, part time, evening manager who sits in my desk in the evening. There are little clues left here and there; a hair clip, a chewed pen, time sheets with things crossed out and irritating post it messages:
“Steven phoned. A personal call apparently. No message. Will call back. (Please read policy re. Personal use of hand-sets.”
Sarah Magellan, or SMAGELL as ‘the system’ likes to call her, is my nemesis and alter ego. According to her intranet profile she’s a Gemini and her favourite film is GLITTER. She sends me e-mails that are as bad as her post its:
“Please refrain from locking the desks in the area. My team requires storage too. I suggest that you are top and I’ll be bottom.”
You don’t get offers like that every day.