I have learned my employers are a relatively unforgiving bunch.
You may have noticed my lack of blogging. This is because my work load rained down on me over the last few weeks. Initially, a new system was launched and let’s just says I was having trouble with it. I am not amazing with technology. When it comes to number crunching, I am the type of guy that prefers an abacus and chalk board. All this new software, currencies (that come in three versions), reconciliations, processes and responsibilities totally blew my bulb. I floundered to get on top of it. It came to the crunch and I misgauged my priorities. The net effect was a colleague and I staying back for two and a half hours on Friday evening.
On Monday morning, the proverbial pooh hit the fan.
My colleague who was detained that Friday evening was probably the worst person to keep late.
Accusations flew back and forth between she and I. She carried more weight because she does not use abacuses and chalk; she is an accountancy goddess. I received her wrath!
Don’t worry, I did not take it lying down. I bet you’re not surprised.
Now, as a result of these events, I have to sit down with my manager on a weekly basis and go through my list of tasks. I feel like the remedial employee. It’s ironic that I actually found it difficult to draw up a list of tasks since I barely know what I am doing. Unfortunately, blogging can’t go on the checklist. I was tempted to clarify that one.
It is for this reason and this reason alone I have not been able to inform you of the amazing time I had in Budapest over the weekend. I went with a friend form college. I was unable to write about the (literally) shitty club, Cafe Capella, that my mate and I visited. I didn’t have time to describe the holy show I made of myself on the dance floor while he was ‘occupied’. I lacked the time to describe how my shoes tore my feet to pieces. I would have documented the pinnacle of my weekend – drinking with the presenters of that new after hours show on TV3, Play TV. It was such a good night. We ended up in a bar called the Funny Carrot, where we remained until 06.00 on Monday morning. The barman, Lola, was an amazing host:
“You promeez Lola you come back hir veez yar pardner”
Monday in Budapest was spent panicking in the hotel when I learned it was in fact 13.20 and not 10.20. After locating a tram to take me to the park, I lay face down in the grass on Margaret Island for two hours. I eventually sobered up around 17.00 to have my stomach jolted about by a Danish taxi driver, who should not have been on the road. The gobshite even dropped us to the wrong terminal after consulting a list to ensure we were headed to the right one. After that pleasant jaunt in the cab, I became reacquainted with the contents of my stomach in the toilet cubicle of the airport.
Overall a good weekend and a not so good week, but hey, at least I had something to write about.