Despite the heavy rain, Leicester refused to wash away, so I had to go there today. I’ve got to go on Thursday and Friday as well. Looks like I’ve got another week in the job. I was the only person who even thought leaving this week was a (slim) possibility. I feel so tired.

Page Eleven of Bulletproof Poets. I’m going to start on full art when I finally finish my job. I’m feeling generous, here’s some more Eliza Effect as well-


Sarah was sure she should be holding up a board with her new works number etched on it. �If I�d known you�d be taking my picture I�d have worn more make up.�

�Oh don�t worry about it love. This thing makes everyone look anaemic.� The guard adjusted the focus of the video camera then checked the framing of the image on the screen in front of him. �Okay. Hold still. And now.�

The strange little machine beside the PC started whirring and, after a minute, clunked out a pass. Sarah checked out her picture, it looked like she had been living in a box for three months. The card came with a magnetic strip for the doors and a chip for the vending machines. He retrieved the card and punched a hole in it, �There you go. He should be along for you in a minute. You can wait in reception.�


There were company magazines on the tables. She tried to read one, but found her eyes slipping off articles after the first paragraph. Under the magazine were newspapers- the Daily Mail and Express, both even harder to read than the promo magazine. She stared, soft focus, at the front of the reception desk.

There was movement by the turnstiles and Sarah looked up. Two guys hurried past, the taller one merited a second glance. Not bad, could have done with a hair cut. She flicked through the Express and found a Dilbert she�d read on the Internet weeks earlier.

Her new manager turned up fifteen minutes later. He was wearing a suit which didn�t look as expensive as he thought. As he strode toward her, he smoothed his unruly tie back into place. �Hello, I�m George Webb. You must be Sarah. If you�ll come with me, we can get the induction started.�

I’ve got one week left at work, and I’m beginning to get that end of term feeling. I don’t want to do any work, though I know I should or I’ll get sucked into that other version of apathy which sees me staying there for another week. A week which will then become a month and…….

I’m going to Leicester again on Monday. The drive there’s quite interesting, I guess. And then I’ve got to do documentation and reports for my current project, then documentation for an old project. Then twiddling me thumbs and saying goodbye to everyone on Friday. Then on Monday they can start blaming me for all the problems in systems I haven’t worked on for a year.

Bitter? Me?

Page Seven of Bulletproof Poets, and a very small snippet of The Eliza Effect-


Paul hung up and turned to Mike. �So the project is on?�


�So we�re officially an IT department?�


�So we�re IT professionals?�


�So�.. Where the fuck are our Nerf toys?�

They paused long enough to grab their jackets.

The good news is- I don’t have to stay over in Leicester, and I’m not working there tomorrow.

The bad news is- now I’ll have to go back again next week. And the project is an extra week behind schedule.

I’m sure Leicester is a nice place once you get to know it, and I do like a little bit of post- industrial decay, but it’s just a bit too run down.

Anyway- today’s pic.

It’s nearly New Year. I’m going to be so glad to see the back of 2001. It had such promise early in the year, but that all gave way to disappointments, frustration and bad management.

I’m into the final straight of my 3 1/2 + years employment with The Gas, my absolute final day has been set as 15th February. Tthough the way things tend to work out, that’ll probably become some time in March. There are a few people I’ll miss, and one ex-manager who I’ll be glad to never see again (though someone with a mysterious resemblance to her will be popping up in The Eliza Effect- why make up idiot managers when you have such a rich source making your life hell.) It feels wierd, and a little scary, but it’s past time to move on.

List time (it is the end of the year, after all)-

Places I’ll gladly never visit again-






Places I’d happily return to under other circumstances-









If someone wants you sacked for another person’s mistakes, you’re probably in the wrong company.

Never promise more than you can deliver, and bitch slap anyone who does it for you.

In this networked world, why did I have to drive over 10,000 miles in the last six months?


Happier, healthier, wiser.