Thank you, Samuel Drayton

I'm sitting through yet another meeting, populated by members of my "team" (remember - this term is used loosely...) My delicious new-found detachment enables me to observe the scene in the manner of someone having an out-of-body experience on the operating table. Politician's Daughter is communicating through a loud hailer (or so it feels) -the room is scarcely big enough to contain the decibels her vocal cords are producing, let alone her ENORMOUS ego. Ex-Army Man is similarly booming away, reciting anecdote after anecdote in dreary interminable fashion. Stylish Female Colleague is the only one whose voice is bearably mellifluous enough to prevent me from throwing myself out of the window (we are seven floors up....)

None of these people are those I would ever choose to be friends with. NOT ONE !!! But I am starting to realise the truth of the phrase 'one can be friendly without being friends'. So I am careful not to roll my eyes heavenwards, sigh, doodle, look at my Blackberry, attempt to use the antiquated and possibly lethal coffee dispenser, tackle the crossword, recite The Jabberwocky, or start writing a screenplay. I look out of the window it is true; but periodically my gaze returns to the person speaking and I do what is actually a reasonably good impersonation of someone listening. I also enquire politely after the health of Politician's Daughter's child (currently a wee bit sickly); and say "bless you" when Ex-Army Man sneezes (a sound easily confused with artillery shells exploding).

Line Manager is again my neighbour around the table - I am now demonstrating public allegiance with him, to confuse all those who have listened to gossip about our rift. But as soon as the meeting ends and he heads down the stairs thinking I am coming with him, I backtrack and head for the lift..

And find myself - before the end of the day - in New Boss's office. I've sent him an email which he has clearly interpreted as ironic. Funny that - as I meant it to be so. I am quite impressed that he is challenging me about it, and although I say "no, no, I felt it was important that you understood my position", he is quite intelligently amusing and manages to make me laugh. This inveigling of himself into my Good Books is exactly what Former Boss used to do - and he is probably the most manipulative, deceitful and ruthless person I have ever had the misfortune to work for. 

I surreptitiously give myself a sharp slap on the legs to bring myself to my senses, and start mentally reciting Samuel Drayton's marvellous sonnet:

"Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.

Nay I have done, you get no more of me -

And I am glad; yea, glad with all my heart

That thus so cleanly I myself can free'.

It works! So when New Boss, lulled by my Stepford compliance, starts unburdening himself to me - he worked all weekend, he is horribly behind, he cannot believe the workload he has inherited - I tilt my head sympathetically, but then look at my watch. It is 5pm. I tell him I have to go to a doctor's appointment. (It is actually true, but I would have said it whether true or not).

I skip out of the building into the late afternoon sunshine, so very VERY welcome after the long days and nights of rain.