Shhhhh

I've been taken captive by an expert on coffee. They lock me into a room in a building filled with crazy ladies who use bumbags as handbags, Patsy Stone and Jimmy Saville. They feed me on cheese and potatoes and water. In some kind of strange sleep-deprivation-torture-esque way they wait until I am about to write a blog entry and immediately make walking-past-my-room noises so I have to minimise the window. I need mindless internet surfing! Comment me your phone number and I'll call you back from my work phone to arrange my escape, you'll know it's me by the call phrase "Switchboard? I'm calling from the CSRI, we don't have intranet access to get extension numbers ourselves, give me the number for Tony Partridge, PLEEEEASE DON'T HANG UP ON ME AND TELL ME TO LOOK ON THE INTRANET!" - tis a common phrase round these dungeons so nobody will suspect a thing. You won't have access to this secret annex of the Clinical Sciences Building but I'll pass my ID card under the door as arranged and this will should work. Just help me, somebody. Please, before Professor Coffee removes my heart for medical research.


Translation: Interviews for the new PA took place today. Nobody, not even the present receptionist with a knowledge of the building and people and experience of covering for his colleagues' PAs, was given the job. Meaning I will probably have the job for more than 1-2 months. Oh yay.