Strange Thoughts of a Strange Man

I was in such an unbelievably foul mood last night that I actually caught myself snarling at people getting in my way on the concourse and I really didn't care if I bashed into anyone.

I had become one of those people I shake my head at. Had I been dressed in Burberry I could have been a chav.

I was still simmering with rage as I was sitting on the train. Actually, it took me a few hours to calm down.

Nothing justifies such a dramatic change in character of course and I don't like myself in that mood. I feel madly dangerous and expect to find myself on the front page of the newspapers the following day and not for a good reason.

I think I had been pushed a little too far.

I had spent all day tracking down solutions to two problems for a major customer. That customer had been sending snotty emails demanding updates when it turned out that one of the problems had been their fault and the other had been solved the day before.

My day had been completely wasted. The really urgent work I wanted to be doing had to be sidelined yet again.

I hate my time being wasted. I hate support. I hate stupid users. I am a developer for a reason.

My job is deeply annoying at the moment.

I say job, singular, but it isn't. I seem to have at least four and splitting my time between them just isn't working. I am supposed to be a developer, a project manager, a team leader and support.

Also I am on the Entertainments Committee tasked with organising "lively" events for people who couldn't give a toss.

I have dozens of half-started jobs on the go that I have to put to one side because something more urgent comes along. I don't work well like that. I have no time to get anything finished. I don't seem to have enough time to get anything started.

On top of that, Transport for London have taken £1904 for my annual Travelcard, forced me to use the tube (which I hate) so the Travelcard could be loaded onto my Oyster card at Charing Cross and failed to deliver.

I was told to try again tomorrow. At the other Charing Cross tube station. How bloody ridiculous.

I don't normally go on the tube. My travelcard is for trains and buses. The tube is hot and filled with people who don't know their arses from their elbows and who stand in the way because they are too gormless to have any awareness of their surroundings.

No wonder I was growling.

I'm in a much better frame of mind this morning but I have decided I need to speak to someone at work. I really shouldn't be doing support. I shouldn't be working with people at all.