modern problems aren't that bad

Oh dear; my interwebs have been shaped.

What's interesting about having your internet shaped (because there needs to be some silver lining; no matter how tarnished) is that it points out exactly how impotent your spanky new laptop is.

It has lots of bells and whistles but, without online connectivity, there really isn't much to be done with it.

Hmmm...

ask yourself how much you really want to be here*

* I have been asked this question at least twice by management so far this year.

Why? Because I need to learn when to keep my big, fat mouth s.h.u.t.

There are mysteries afoot in the office. Sly intrigues not destined to be fathomed; and apparently I should just keep my head down and stay quiet 'til bonus time.

Something tells me this is improbable, if not implausible.

Meanwhile, it's almost three months since this post and the outcomes in the intervening time have been blandly predictable. Things did indeed g0 Wrong (with a capital 'w'). The fallout is just beginning to hit but – predictably – no one seems to be responsible or accountable.

It's suspiciously like the workplace is divided into two discreet camps; people-who-might-fuck-up, and people-who-shit-rainbows-and-puppy-dogs.

Guess which one I'm in.