My Move And Assorted Do-Dah's

Ok, I'm not happy at work anymore.

My little department has moved floors and now I'm… sitting with people. I don’t have a desk on my own anymore, and have to mix it with my minions. The first week was ok - it was quite a novelty having people to chat to about X-Factor.

I'm totally into X-Factor this year. That makes it sound like I'm not obsessed with it every year, which I am, it's just that this year it's been brilliant. The standard is so high, there are about 6 singers who deserve to do really well. The big fly still in the ointment - I'm not counting Daniel cause he's only there on a sympathy vote - is that nasty little melted plasticine faced Irish pixie-troll boy. Have you noticed that his name is actually spelled for the sound you make when you see him and are sick - Eoghan. Apparently it's pronounced Owen, but I'm having none of it. Frankly he unnerves me, and quite why people are voting for him is beyond me. Even the usually cynical Cowell (I still would, unfathomably) keeps telling him how great he is. I've come to expect such balderdash from Walsh, but not Cowell. Apart from Eoghan I'm not liking Rachel's rather typical 'tude, but that's about it. Even JLS managed not to annoy me this week.

Oh, Diana to win!

Now look what you've done? You've twisted my arm into talking about X-Factor. Naughty, naughty viewers.

So, I'm sitting with The Plebs at work, as I affectionately call them (not to their faces), and the novelty has worn off. I had one benefit; I found I had a clear line of sight to a hot guy (one of only about 3 in my building - considering there are 500 people working here that's not a good hottie quotient - this place is ugly), so at least when the chatter had turned to football or Gemma Arterton (as all the boys here seem obsessed with both, but not for the same reason I gather) I could stare at the hottie and have a little "moment" i.e. fiddle with myself under the desk. Except that this morning I walked into work to find someone's moved a cabinet directly across my line of sight. Bollocks!

Having said that I did go off the hottie a little last week. I popped to the loo and someone was in one of the cubicles… er… "making a noise". I think you know what I mean. Apparently he had a large number of kids to drop off at the pool and they didn't want to go quietly. I think you get me drift. Anyway, I was rapidly trying to leave the vicinity when the cubicle door open and out walked the hottie, looking rather flustered. I find it difficult looking at him in the same light now I've heard every bowel movement. I'd normally expect a nice meal and a snog before I get to that level of intimacy, so perhaps it's for the best that I can't see him anymore.

This post isn't very nice, sorry. You wait for weeks for something and I give you X-Factor and Number 2's. Hardly very high-brow. I do apologise.