And We're Back On...

Hello all,

I am back with various news. One, I have a new job, which means I won't be working for crazy Lordy P any more very soon, which is good for my mental state, but no good for the blog. I've been thinking about passing it along to the new girl, if she's up for the drama....Anyway, I'm also back with you because His Lordship has taken to the booze. Again. He's also realised with a new girl working in the office, he can take that little more advantage.

So we get here at 8 am, and are rushing to get material together for a conference, and it's 8.25, and I'm like madly trying to get out the door to get to the place for 8.30, and Peter comes in his Kimono and makes the new girl go on a booze run for him!!!!! It is 8.25 in the morning, and the poor girl has to go to Sainsbury's again (she went yesterday, for her first time). I thought he was coming in to nag us to get going to the conference, but noooooooo! I am sitting here waiting for her to get back and am absolutely steaming. Why do I bother going to these stupid conferences???? More on this later....When I'm a little less peeved!
Ugh!!!

Listed MIA!

Hi All,

Sorry to be so completely off the charts these days...I'm writing an update by popular demand (*ahem* *ahem* Sadowski family...). Lord P has been sober, and therefore fairly boring. My only good news is that I have a new visa and I can start looking for ANOTHER job and release myself from my indentured servitude. Goody! So if any of you all are hiring, I'll be here, serving my Lord and master when you need me...

Lately, His Lordship has been completely broke, as in cashing in those cheques the credit card companies try and push on you for exorbitant amounts of interest. But he still insists on maintaining a ridiculous front which involves first class rides on the Eurostar, intense chocolate cakes on his arrival and a 50 Euro bouquet for his ex-wife. So really, every day has a little nugget of bizarreness, so yes, I have no excuse for my bad blogging behavior. I forgot how much looking for jobs can drain your soul! Boooo....

Ta ta for now, y'all! I will be in touch. I think I'll just start writing down any little crazy shenanigan Lordy P does. That should entertain the troops!

xoxo

Scrooge McYuck!

Ugh! I am so sorry to have dropped off the map, but His Lordship seems to have swiftly recovered from his long-standing bout of severe alcoholism and decided to make up for the months he’s missed in like 6 days. It’s been mildly manic, to put it lightly.

So, what has gone on…Well for starters, the lack of organisation at our publishing house lead to the misplacing of one our author’s manuscripts (this was all before my co-worker and I got here, of course!), which the author had since lost on his own computer, thus making the lost copy, the ONLY copy. Plus, to make matters worse, said author was on a short trip over from his native Estonia and my co-editorial asst. and I were put in the position of taking this lovely man out to lunch.

Let me give you a little background on this particular editorial commission. Lordy P put this book into the works five years ago, yes five, and failed to update us on the project at all until a few weeks ago. Assuming P had this all in hand, since he seemed to be the only person that knew about it, we didn’t think twice about it for a little while until the author rings to say he is in town and would like to discuss the completion of his long-awaited piece. This is when we realise that His Lordship had know clue as to where the manuscript was, and we would be most definitely sans any trace of the manuscript as we went into this dreaded lunch meeting. Of course I put it to Lord P that perhaps he should meet with the author as he is the only person that knows about this project anyway, but who am I kidding, not only did Lordy P refuse to meet with the author, but also refused to have the author come to the office at all and instead insisted we meet him elsewhere. Talk about not wanting to deal with any confrontation and putting us up for the slaughter as usual! Meanwhile I tried to find out from Lord P where he thought the manuscript might be or if he could even describe anything about it. He responded with the classically Lord P answer “I remember now! It was a regular CD [whatever that means!!!] and it came in a brown envelope.” That about narrows it down to…EVERY DAMN MANUSCRIPT WE GET!!! SO we had no choice but to meet with the author and tell him the truth, and he was distraught, of course, because what we had was the only known copy in the universe. Well, to make a long story short, I finally found the CD scrunched behind a pile of papers, only after practically ripping the whole office apart. Of course His Lordship responded with ‘Well, you really shouldn’t put CDs back there.’ What could I say? I was flabbergasted! UGH!!!!!

To diagnose my boss with Manic Depression is putting it all lightly. He has swiftly gone from his depressive drinking, pooping on the floor stage to his insane manic ‘DO EVERYTHING NOW! NOW! NOW!’ phase. In this phase, he comes up with random moneymaking projects that involve the Middle East everyday. So that every morning when I get in, there’s a new jacket I have to design NOW!!!!! That has little to do with the books we actually have to produce now and everything to do with Lordy P and his follies. It’s exasperating!

Not only is he in this ‘Do! Do! Do! Now! Now! Now!’ phase, but he’s doing so dressed in an all white man’s nightgown. A MAN GOWN!!!! Yes, picture Scrooge from Dickens’s A Christmas Carol and you got it! He is running around our office, the very doppelganger of Scrooge. All he needs is one of those floppy nightcaps, a candle in his hand, and a kind of scrunched up quizzical looks on his face and he’s there. I’m trying to understand why Manic = Man Gown and Depressive = Ratty Kimono. I’m thinking he might be doing his white = purity thing again.

Watch this space!!!

Yuck Factor!

Hi all! Sorry to be momentarily MIA, but I was off vacationing -- something that is very important when you work where I work!

I got back late last night and text my co-worker to query about the state of affairs on the office front, and she text back that they were as normal. I of course had to text back, 'Normal sober or normal drinking?' Why I expected anything but the latter, I don't know!

In any case, I wasn't going to discuss what I'm about to discuss her on the blog, because I felt it was in poor taste, but after writing to my friend about it, and nearly peeing myself laughing to myself, I thought I'd share.

So, as I mentioned, I was away for a nice leisurely amount of time and to top off a nice vacation, I come home to the mother of all crazy boss stories. It turns out it was actually a really good thing I was out of the office this week (and bad thing for my co-worker) because His Lordship apparently took the liberty to POOP on the hall floor. Yes he POOOOPED! SHAT!!! Took a dump all over the carpeting in the hallway. EW EW EW EW! He then proceeded to leave a note for the cleaning lady telling her to clean it all up! I mean, even if you could relate to the situation at all, which I soooo cannot, wouldn't you at least clean up your own mess IMMEDIATELY out of shame???? Apparently, Lordy is above cleaning up his own fecal matter! YUCK! I am SOOO glad I missed that!! I cannot tell you!

Ha ha! Thought I'd leave you with that traumatizing tid-bit on this lovely Friday! Mu ha ha ha!!!

Madeira Madness

So my boss still thinks he’s getting on a plane at 7 am tomorrow morning and flying to Madeira. I might also point out that my boss didn’t even leave his bed all day yesterday, and has just stuck his puffy-eyed head into the office once today to sign my co-worker’s and my pay cheques (which I’d open up a large can of whoop-ass if that didn’t happen!). He’s still got his bony little fingers wrapped so tightly around his bottle of Gordon’s gin, that I don’t think even an army of British Airways flight attendants could pry it away from him. His ex, who was somehow roped into going with him, has been desperately on the phone trying to plead all kinds of reasons why there is no way he can fly, and why he should be getting his money back – epileptic seizure, near-comatose state etc etc. (the alcohol was not mentioned). Unfortunately, BA is very understanding, but can only grant a £20 refund per £200 ticket. Not much help. But what I can’t understand is, if it’s His Lordship’s delusion, and his delusional money, then why not let him delusionally lose all of it?

Anyway, I would love to be the flight attendant who attempts to board him. This is assuming he gets in a taxi to make the flight to begin with. His ex has also told us stories about my boss nearly getting arrested many-a-time upon disembarking various airplanes due to his intoxicated state. Apparently it’s illegal to be drunk on an airplane. I suppose a bit unfair if they tempt you with all those free drinks and duty-free. It’s like an alcoholic’s idea of heaven. It’s also like an alcoholic booby trap. Free gin, free whiskey, discounted bottles of booze…oh and you get arrested at the end of it all, by the way. But I would arrest His Lordship, if I were them. He totally deserves it.

Anyway, the cleaning lady (who turns 73 today and looks about 20 years younger than 60-year-old Lordy P) told me how she had to boot my boss out of his bed this morning, just so she could change the sheets. Which apparently desperately needed changing, for reasons we really don’t need to go into…When she finally got him out of bed (the image of it is too funny, since she’s about 5 foot if she’s anything and he’s 6 feet at least!) he stood up just long enough for her to put the fitted sheet half on and then he slouched immediately back into bed before she put anything else on. May I remind you that this is in the middle of a normal workday?

A day where he should be doing things like, for instance, publishing books. Like this one major book we’re working on – or rather my co-worker and I have worked on and slaved over for months -- commissioned authors, formatted it, presented it to the board of the company that’s sponsoring it, marketed it, etc. etc. – my boss is supposed to be editing, and he even has made sure that his name is emblazoned on the front cover in large letters. Now, he has not done one thing for the book except ask the sponsor company for exorbitant amounts of money for every step of the way (which of course, goes straight to his Lordship’s pocket) and now here I am BEGGING him to write the editor’s introduction, which would be the only editorial thing he would have managed to do for the project, and I get no response -- Just him passing out over his semi-dirty sheets.

So back to Madeira. If he goes, I will be so surprised. Anyone want to wager bets????

Oh so its Gordon's now...

Lord P has left a note for the cleaning lady to buy him a bottle of gin -- this time it apparently said Gordon's Gin, which might be grounds for changing my blog name. I guess he's changing things up this year. The worst part of all is that he has no cash at all right now, so he's asked the cleaning lady to float him a loan to buy his gin. We have stooped to these levels, people!

Ewan McWTF???

So I got into work this morning, and thought I’d do a little office spring cleaning, it being mid-May and all. So I’m going through the documents on my computer desktop and trying to get myself organised, opening files and putting them where they belong etc. etc. So I open one file, which I don’t really recognize, entitled mcgrewan.doc. I don’t really think twice since I seem to accumulate a lot of weird stuff here at the office, but I open it anyway, only to find 22 Word document pages-full of pictures (one a page) of EWAN MCGREGOR. WTF??? Why, oh, WHY do I have a Word document chock full of Ewan McGregor images mysteriously on my desktop? It can really only be Lord P or his thirteen-year-old daughter, and I really hope it’s the latter. That would just put me one step over the top if His Lordship was surfing Ewan McGregor fan sites and gathering them into a Scottish Ewan-filled montage. And of all the celebrities? There’s an image from Star Wars with his little Jedi rat tail and a picture from his stint on the West End as Guys & Dolls’ Nathan Detroit (Which I won’t deny that I’ve seen) plus lots more of him looking sultry! It’s madness!

The fact that this could be a result of His Lordship does seem improbable, seeing that he stumbled in only once yesterday morning, all bleary-eyed and wasted, only to stumble back into bed for the rest of the day. I sincerely doubt he would have the stamina to even put himself in front of the computer, let along turn it on, google Ewan McGregor and find his way over to www.ewanmcgregor.net or whatever.

But I will tell you one funny thing, Lordy P has it in his mind that he is going to Madeira this weekend. Oh yes – as in the islands off of Portugal. And this is the time in his drunkeness that I think he’s on at least 1 ½ bottles of ginny gin, seeing that the cleaner found an entire garbage bin filled to the top with bottles from the weekend -- in his bedroom. We will see. Perhaps he’ll switch his liquid diet to a short stint of Sangria. More on his attempted trip to Madeira soon….

The Mysterious Nail Clippings

So. Sorry to be out of touch, but it’s been a lot of Lord P stumbling in with his kimono falling off, and me just averting my eyes, as usual. He’s been quietly secluded in the comfort of his bedroom, which lies behind the indulgently ornate red velvet curtain he’s installed to divide us plebeians form his Lordship’s domestic domain – not that I’d want to go anywhere near it.

But speaking of working off someone’s apartment, there are a lot of things that go on in such a setting that would not go on in your typical office building. Take this morning for example. My co-worker was happily typing along on her computer and had just sat down with her morning latte and upon looking down at her desk she found a scattering of nail clippings all over her paperwork for the day. Yes, nail clippings. After having a moment of mutual revulsion when she brought this to my attention, she quietly sprinkled them into the garbage and tried not to think twice about it. Where they came from, who they came from, remains a mystery, as the person had to have sat themselves down at her desk and clipped away! Anyway, we both tried to put it to the back of our minds and go on with our work. That was all fine until my co-worker goes to reach for her latte again, glancing down at her mouse at the same time, only to lay her eyes upon a large toe nail clipper nestled alongside her mouse on her mouse pad. Utterly gag-inducing! After we thought about it, as we left to leave last night, we did hear a clip, clip, clipping coming from the hallway, and were kind of grossed out by the apparent sound of nail clipping, but how does this explain how it got on her desk? How many nails does one person have to clip? And why move from the hallway to the office on a clipping frenzy?

On another note, did we mention our accountant has a really disgusting habit of belching extremely loudly repeatedly? I was reminded of this just now when he let out a particularly stentorian burp. He does this all day at intervals. The sad part is that now I barely notice, it’s simply blended into the usual background sounds of the office. When once my co-worker and I used to exchange disgusted glances, we now continue typing as if the accountant didn’t just eructate with passion.

As far as Lord P’s state, he is more or less in the early stages of drinking a bottle of gin a day, which usually consists of napping all day, coming out for brief meetings – only to call the people by the completely wrong name altogether, over and over again even after he’s been corrected. I will be keeping you all up to date!

At least tomorrow’s Friday!