Bad days at Black Rock

Clever wee beasties, cats. I'd not got the key in the door when I hear a rumble of small velvet boots down the stairs, a leap and a meow, and a visible flash of black behind the frosted glass door. I've been down before and he always knows when I'm off colour and so it was; too many early shifts, bad meetings and a barney with the boss; the cat is required to demonstrate his psychic abilities again, meeting me out of the car, far more friendly than usual and acutually keen to play. Folks, don't underestimate your pets.

It's been a heavy one. Seven straight days on for my team; only six for me 'coz I cheated and took a day off, but still, no fun. And barney's and meetings that aren't fun. We were due to finish at one on Friday; we stayed on til seven with no result to show for it because some silly little man in an office miles away thought he's had a good idea. We're back on Sunday night, around midnight. Not a happy bunch of wanderers we are at the moment, not enjoying the prospect of our microweekend, people are feeling shafted; I'm thinking of instituting my old team's nickname ("the needlework team"... always getting stictched up). It's down to the new systems of working that have been imposed by the centre that we basically haven't got enough staff for. Staff aren't being replaced as they quit. Tell me this is a good thing! Remember boys and girls, micromanagent from the centre is good for you!