The Decline of Glenn Blog Power…Maybe

I think it's best that I keep things flippant on here. It won't improve matters if I'm serious, argumentative and pious.
I've already kept back parts of this blog since Monday. Some of it has been deleted, as events have superseded the need to say what I was going to. I don't want to appear insouciant, and all of what I write is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, yet I feel that is the way it should be for now.

I was going to write a blog today (well on Monday) about how blogging for me is about to drop off drastically. My boss has been off for the past two months with a mystery virus. It may be rather callous to say when the guy is quite ill, but it has made my life at work a lot easier. I don't get hassled about nonsense, and I generally seem to have more time and freedom to use my work-time as I see fit.
He was due back in this week and it wouldn't have been worth it to raise the antipathy that exists between us by being seen to be indulging in wittering on about oneself on the interweb. Plus, we are about to have an office reshuffle. Each pen contains four desks, I am the only person in my pen, Chris is the only person in the pen to my right. The pen to my left is totally empty.
The plan for our move rewards me with the thing I wanted the least, in that I will be sitting next to the boss. That would probably put a halt completely to this blog. This move is planned for the end of next week, yet we may have a reprieve.
Chris overheard on Monday that the boss won't be back in for a while and is still really ill. I wonder what sort of virus it is that can debilitate somebody so badly and for so long. The big boss lady received a phone call this morning to say that the boss bloke wouldn't be in for another month. Apparently he has been having bad headaches and keeps being sick. I hope he's had his bonce checked out, however much difficulty he cause me at work I don't want him to go a bit Edward Collins.
My friend John has been off work since mid-January with a bad back. He burst a disc in his back several years ago and every now and then it flares up. It generally passes after a few weeks but this seems the worst recurrence yet. He tried to come back this week but it proved too painful and he's been sent home again. Sadly, I don't think I'll see John for a while…
What this does mean is that I will be moving from an empty pen next week…to an empty pen. Again, I shall be sat on my own.

We've all done things that are embarrassing, yet there are some things that make us cringe and squeeze our eyes tightly together in the hope that we may cause our own expiration. I don't mean things that are embarrassing in the "failed relationship with somebody who you never felt anything for" or the "dancing in a Karl style" way. I mean things like these…

1. When I was little, I once excitedly told my family that "my tail was sticking up". By 'tail', I meant 'tadger'. I can't remember what was on TV at the time, but I wonder if it was something acceptable. Had my little soldier stood to attention on the sight of some young lady on the Benny Hill Show, or had I become aroused at a documentary of life in a slaughterhouse. I doubt it's something I'll ever find out as there is very little chance of me ever raising the issue with my parents.

2. I got my ugly mug splashed across the front page of our work intranet. I'd won a competition to win free flights to Paris; after receiving the amount of abuse which this produced, I wished I hadn't even entered the thing. Jesus, I'm cringing again. There were almost 10,000 people with access to that webpage.

3. I used to call armadillos -"dego-degos". Why?

4.I once asked my dad what a dildo was. I was 27 at the time. Ha, ha, no I wasn't.
I was 28.*

5. I’ve drawn the below graph. I wonder what it means?



Would Alanis Morrisminor say it was 'ironic' that after the blog gets a temporary reprieve, I suddenly find out that blogger won't let me post things from work today? I'll have to email it home if it keeps pissing me off.


*this is a joke.
I was actually 29.**




**Ha! Fooled you again, I'll actually be 34 when I ask my dad what a dildo is.