On Sneezes, Office Scandal and Spaghetti

Returning to work after the weekend at the best of times is not my favourite thing to do, so returning to work after a wonderfully lazy four-day weekend was a tad difficult to say the least. Thankfully, Lil' Miss Lisacles was there for half of my commute. We parted at the station, promising each other we'd send a email later in the day to try and distract from the mountain of work that had no doubt piled up over the days we were away.

My body has chosen the most inconvenient time to decide it is allergic to tree pollen/pollution/work. With everyone in full swine flu alert paranoia, it's not the best time to be displaying cold symptoms. I was sneezing all day, into tissues (or my hands when I wasn't quick enough off the draw), rather than into the crook of my elbow as we have amusingly been advised. I am feeling a little run down, but contrary to my dramatic nature, I am completely dismissing the idea that I have caught a pig's cold. Although I have never really suffered from hayfever to any significant degree, I am sure the pollen or the pollution must be getting to me. However, I have somehow been 'chosen as a volunteer' (can you really be a volunteer if you are chosen?) to man the doors at an awards ceremony at work tomorrow, giving out hand wipes at the door to every single person who enters, in some sort of attempt at preventing contamination. I'm sure an allergic, sneezing scruff like me, handing you a wet wipe as you enter an enclosed space with potentially 3,000 other attendees (many of whom will be from overseas), will more than reassure you that we have this pandemic contained. I've been mistaken for being Hispanic/Latina on more than one occasion, but never specifically Mexican. Maybe I'll be generous with the bronzer tomorrow and go for a full house on the 'ways to create slight unease and encourage impending panic.'

Meanwhile, ill-advised health & safety details aside, work just gets better and better. Despite Miss T's pleas for our only male team member to dance naked on the table because she was utterly bored, we remained without entertainment or excitement for most of the day. "It's rubbish here, nothing interesting ever happens!" she lamented, mid-afternoon. Barely an hour later, there were whispers and hushed voices and furtive looks and we discovered that a couple of days before, our bigwig had unexpectedly left the building! It all seems very suspicious, especially since I am pretty sure that positions at that level require at least 3 months' notice. Miss T was almost salivating with excitement. Did they jump, or were they pushed? The politics is a little intriguing, but all I really care about is how it affects our team, our morale and general working environment. Feeling that now was as good a time as any to chase up the position in another department that I had applied for, I contacted someone in HR. Who responded by just forwarding my email to one of the interview panel. How very professional. I finally found out, a whole month after my interview, that they have just offered the position to another candidate. I was assured that I had been a close second, but since it was for internal applicants only and with no way of knowing how many people even applied, I may as well have come fourth in a race of hundreds at the Olympics. Who cares about the number of contenders when you're out of the medals?

Trying not to feel hugely disappointed and bitter (twitch, twitch, lol), I am now without a plan B or escape route from a place that is becoming increasingly precarious and stressful. There are rumours of a third departmental restructure. I am consoling myself with the knowledge that I had prayed about this situation and there were others praying for me also. So I conclude that this position or the timing is not God's will and that there is a reason for the way things have worked out. Feeling less and less enthused about work, I was thrilled by the suggestion I meet Lisacles after work for a quick beverage. Even though we had spent the weekend together, one day of work was enough to provide an evening's conversation fodder. A quick beverage morphed into dinner by the time we met and our grumbling bellies led the way to our little Italian place for some pasta. Being perked up by the fact that the meatballs on the menu were beef and not pork (meaning I could actually eat them), we both ordered spaghetti and meatballs with tomato and chilli sauce. My sneezes abated enough for me to eat my dinner and we were looked after by pleasantly friendly waiters, but left alone enough to eat in relative peace while we let off steam about our respective days.

It's amazing what good company and good food can do. *sneezes*