Air Spreadsheeting

Lilsister’s mad boss is drawing spreadsheets as he talks to her.  Obviously at the other side of the desk she is witnessing fingers and pens drawing lines (with occasional ‘x’ marks that are meant to reference her) backwards but she says this is not the reason she does not understand a thing he is saying.

There is also the distraction of what I can only refer to as the ‘eeeeeesh’.  This is the noise the boss makes ever time he starts a sentence, takes a breath, or tries to deal with what is evidently a humour-filled Lilsister sitting opposite him.  It is the only way I can think of to describe a man of great stress, who in my opinion is extremely close to blowing a gasket, sucking in his teeth and grinning like a mad man at the same time.

Picture the scenario – Lilsister sends a report to an absolute cow, who rings every two minutes to clarify the information in the report i.e. what does ‘received’ mean – it means it was received what does outstanding mean it means it’s outstanding ok well then can you send me an interim report highlighting what is received and what is outstanding no because I just sent that to you if you want to know what is received filter on received should you wish to know what is outstanding, filter again but this time, under ‘outstanding’.

The absolute cow has now taken to ringing the mad boss on the alternative minutes to ringing Lilsister.  Boss calls in Lilsister and the conversation appears to go like this:

Boss ‘eeeeesh’.

Lilsister – silence, staring.

Boss ‘Well now Lilsister, eeeesh, the absolute cow has been on the phone’ (nods head towards phone on desk, Lilsister, like a berk, nods her head in unison, to show understanding that yes, this is a phone, and quite probably the one that was used in the aforementioned phone call).  ‘So she’s needing an eeeesh interim report and I’m thinking eeeesh you know?’  At this stage usually the head goes into the hands, and the head is then BANGED with the hands.  The head is raised slightly; pick up pen.

‘So what I’m thinking is that (cue pen in the air drawing an ‘L’) that you are ‘x’ (draw x at the top of the ‘L’) and this (turn ‘L’ into box) is your spreadsheet for let’s say number 1, which is this week.  Okay?’

Lilsister nods, she gets this, she is a letter from the alphabet and her working week is a box which she currently is outside of.

‘So that’s your work (circling the box with the pen) and there you are over here.  Now the absolute cow is over eeeeeesh, here (bullet point made outside of box, on the bottom) and she would like to be eeeeeeeeeeessssssh, over HERE.’

Lilsister loses the plot as the dot placed at the bottom of the box, on opposite side to her ‘x’ now has several lines drawn from it, going – what – OVER the x? TO the x?  Behind?  In front?

Boss ‘So we want HER over HERE.’  More lines drawn, heavier than before.  The pen is placed on the desk and the boss’ two hands are placed on opposite side of the box.  ‘So she is BEFORE here, you know?’

Lilsister is taking a lot of headache tablets, and came to tell me that she had agreed to this but doesn’t know what it is and how she will do it.   I thought if I wrote it out I would be able to decipher the code, but unfortunately I have an urgent need for tea, biscuits and a lie down, in that order.

 

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Chocolate in the Coffin

Today I went to the funeral of the woman we know as The Dragon.  The Dragon sat at her table drinking coffee from a tea cup and smoking. When I was younger I would yell at her for smoking on me, especially when I had clean hair.  She usually told me to fuck off.  When Spongecake gave her some grandkids smoking would occasionally take place out the back garden.  This was the woman to whom Panties apologised to after pouring hot oil from the deep fryer all over her arm (said arm was so badly burned that Panties needed a skin graft to replace it).  After apologising, my friend then cleaned the floor of the oil that had carelessly missed her arm.

The Dragon has been cremated with a Frys Chocolate Cream in the coffin with her, which I was told about by the family as they expressed their horror upon discovering her husband, their father, trying to steal it in a moment of starvation at the funeral home.  After expressing my solidarity with this action I very nearly didn’t an invite to the funeral, which turned out to be the season’s social highlight, with uileann pipes playing her entrance, Elvis welcoming us and Luke Kelly singing her through her cremation.

Afterwards, soup sandwiches and smiling and I find myself now thinking how I’d like to travel from this world, and if a Dairy Milk would be safe with my ghost in the coffin?