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- Blog Monitoring Social Media
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- Offering Sabbaticals
- How to Stimulate Intellectual Curiosity in Yourself and Your Team
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- Bug Off!
- Winter Blues
- Pension and PHI
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- Should the UK Offer 24/7 Childcare for Working Parents?
- Gone Today, Here Tomorrow?
- How to Create Informal Mentoring Opportunities
- Perception of Disability
- How Managers Can Help Grieving Workers
- Not All Carrots Are the Same! Money and Motivation
- How to Stop Feeling So Stressed
- Can Dilbertian Thinking Improve Results?
- Court of Appeal Rules in New Holiday Pay Calculation Case
“Sir! The Dog Ate My Homework!”
Remember that daft excuse from school? Nobody believed it, but it didn’t stop feckless pupils from trying it on.
Since I have developed Chronic Monday-it is (a condition of which I firmly disapprove), I feel almost that I am making the same silly comment.
I don’t believe in coincidences, yet the last few months have seen a range of minor disasters that would normally only arise in a drama.
In July I went on holiday, fell off a bike while cycling and cracked a rib. Back at work, I hobbled round, creaking and grumbling and slowly healing up. No sooner was I able to laugh and sneeze again without collapsing with howls of pain, then my back went into spasm. Twice.
I had Alliance & Leicester/ MBNA to thank for the severe stress that caused my back to lock. Last Monday I had to tell my team that I’d been assaulted by a very nasty woman in my own street. It was a bit shocking but fortunately no bones were broken (though I suspect the Police might well prefer it from an evidence point of view).
I can’t say too much about it now as the Police are currently investigating the crime but further details will follow in due course so watch this space... And then this weekend I succumbed to food poisoning, the gruesome details of which I will spare you. Suffice to say that despite copious quantities of Imodium and Milk of Magnolia (sic), I am still a delicate shade of green and blench pathetically at the exotic offer of dry toast and tea.
BUT: unlike most CM sufferers I have turned up for work and stay there (though the team always try to send me home. AND: I am convinced that the only way is up, baby. Speaking to my partner today, I grumbled that bad luck is supposed to go in threes.
I’ve had five pieces of bad luck. He replied (quite wittily, I thought, considering it was before 8am) that since I never do things by halves, perhaps I should expect six bad things to happen.
So I’m now sitting here in my tin hat, waiting for the final thing...... Wish me luck!
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