A breeze of change

Ok, so I'm a slow learner on some things. I'm one of those sorts who quite happily helps the world and his bro sort out their workload/personal issues/house-clearance/contract killings* whilst my own stuff is left undone. But this week is the start of the 'Campaign to Really Annoy Irritating Colleagues'. Or CRAIC.

The aim of the CRAIC is just to - well, it sort of says it all on the tin - irritate people. In the same way they've been driving me nuts for a while.

I call them the 'Slinkies' - they have no real purpose in life but they make you smile when you push them down the stairs. That's one pure gem I found on Facebook :)

And it has got off to a slow but satisfying start. We have a box of assignments here, referred to in Failed the Customer Service Brief. So urgent in fact, that the tutor has left them here for 7 weeks. The arrangement was that, rather than courier the box to a local FE college (about 5 miles away) we would box them up, shove the tutor in a taxi with them at the end of a new session, and he could take them back.

He hasn't seen it as urgent, so neither have we. They are now officially His Problem - the last bit of course delivery is for him to get off his butt and mark them. But today we have the delightful Wilty Emma on lunch cover, a drippy girl with a whingy voice and the dynamism of roadkill. She's one of the people whose assignment has been abandoned, and someone with more backbone has asked what the bloody hell is happening, they want to know their marks.

What old Wilty-knickers wants is someone to do something. The thought that she might get off her bony arse and remind the tutor? Utterly alien! Despite the fact that she was our contact for the programme, a fact she is conveniently forgetting. In her eyes, she's too important to phone taxis. I believe it's a big ask for her IQ, but she could at least try.

The last thing she expected was for me to tell her to sort it out herself with the tutor. He may have some excellent reason why they are safer with us. So she is now huffing and puffing, and wilting, which is more energetic than she's been in many a year!

"It makes us look bad" she whines, at the end of a 3-minute speech so dull that I nodded off partway through my sandwich. She then stops,puzzled by my lack of concern.

"It's not my baby so I'm not in the least bothered, I'm more worried about the BSL results". It might have sounded a bit odd, through the chicken and mayonnaise, but she got the point.

I can see 'Does Not Compute' signs starting to flash in the vacuum behind her eyes. I wait for the smoke as she goes into meltdown, having first moved away from the sprinklers and the electrical stuff.

Part of me is feeling very petty, and sad. Plus, Wilty-knickers has been blessed with sad puppy eyes, and I feel like I've kicked a Labrador puppy.

Then I remember the aim of the CRAIC, and feel good.

* I've not started the contract killings yet, but I'm considering a career change.