We're all Thomas the Tank Engine

One thing I have discovered about the British workforce (well, corporate anyway) is that they take thier positive reinforcement very seriously. Everything is 'Well Done', 'Good Job', 'Excellent' etc etc.
Now, generally I'm really all for positive reinforcement - when earned. Conragtulating someone for masteringthe art of opening thier email account does not count. Niether does the occasion when I actually complete a to do list in one day. In fact, over used compliments sound contrived and even a little patronising.
And it sounds even more so when its PMS time in the office.

You see, the girls here in the office all seem to get PMS at the same time. One of the girls - let's name her Barbie (and I mean that in a nice way) has decided she wants to go on the Pill to relieve the PMS.

erm...why?

PMS is in a way rather liberating! Guys get to be all testosteroney and macho and get away with fighting and losing thier temper all month long. Well, to me, PMS is the best excuse for most of the 'unseemly' things we do. Like mooching, glaring at fellow tube passengers who stand on yoru toes, crying during a movie and other irrational behaviour.
Embrace the PMS! Enjoy the PMS!
And blame every bad purchase on it!

Onto more mundane things about the office -
Someone has been buying the lame ass organic strength 3 Sainsbury brand coffee. I'd like to find that person and kick thier butt!
Coffee is only worth is consumption if the strength is at least 6. I would like to be wired after one cup - not two pots! It wastes valuable blogging time having to get up to refill my cup with boring, instant strength brew.

As for Joyce -
Being Monday yesterday, I worked late and avoided the flat (her son comes on Mondays for supper). Had supper with P and Nats at the Pembroke until we were kicked out.
Due to closing, not behaviour.
Anyway, I get home and Joyce was going on about her dog. Again. So in my three beers induced mellow and good will mood, I sat and chatted to her about the dog and her latest family crisis until I nearly fell asleep on the floor. dragged my ass to bed. Had been lying there for a while when suddenly i hear the door open, and felt this weight on me. I nearly hit the roof! (jo'burg paranoia coming through).
Turns out, Joyce, in her madness and sweetness, brought me an extra duvet. She said it was because my room is so cold.
I thanked her and promptly fell asleep (if only to avoid talking more about that freakin dog). This morning i discovered the reason for the arctic conditions in my room - someone opened my windows and neglected to inform me!!!
Note - my windows are on the opposite end of the room to my bed and are small and hidden, so I hardly pay attention to them.

SO life with Joyce is one day going to result in a death through heart attack.
My heart, that is. Stopped by her scaring the bejesus out of me.