We've got a new health & safety inspector in our building. It is quite possibly the worst person it could be, a jobsworth middle-aged woman whose previous role seemed to consist in nagging people about the state of their office, refusing to allow non-execs to book hire cars and meeting rooms, and generally abusing her role as head of the building.
Well, it's nice to see the new role hasn't gone to her head. She's banned us from using the microwaves as she thinks there is bare metal showing in them. Nobody else has seen any problems, but her health & safety handbook must insist that the microwave be sealed off, in case it comes alive and kills us all.
Our building has three floors, with a big atrium in the middle. The stairs between the ground floor and the first floor are an exposed set of metal stairs. The stairs between the first floor and my top floor are a spiral metal deathtrap, which has really low banisters. Still, I've been in here for 6 years now and haven't yet toppled drunkenly over the railing.
Our new inspector has decreed that the railings are too low and that they present a hazard. Only, she hasn't shut off the spiral-of-death, no, instead she has cordoned off the lower set of stairs. So, we have to use the creaking lift of doom, or the emergency staircase, which also has rather low railings.
I predict a fire with everyone burning to death, as our health and safety officer stands outside protesting that she only caused everyone to die so they could be safe.
Then again, this is the lady that made Chris and I take down our tower of coke cans as they represented "a fire hazard".
The resistance has started already, somebody has written something sweary on the notice not to use the microwave. I'm looking forward to when she comes to empty our recycled can bin, as the cardboard bottom of the box has been destroyed by the little bits at the bottom of the cans dripping out and making it a soggy mess.
Sadly, every attack on the authorities will result in a dozen innocents being taken outside and shot in the car park.

I have to go to a wedding on Friday, a mammoth trip to Colchester for the wedding of my 3rd cousin. I don't really want to, but it makes my mum happy that we turn up for family things, even though they are the furthest related family from me that I can think of. I don't even know all of my Aberdonian first cousins, but I'll make the trip across the country for this. Sheesh.
We went to my other 3rd cousin's wedding a couple of years ago, again in Colchester.
The wedding a couple of years ago was possibly the poshest (and dearest) thing I've ever been to. Maybe I wrote something in the blog about it, I can't remember.