Friends in high places...friends in turbans...

It's been a while since I put fingertips to keyboard, but I figured, at the start of my tenure with Fucktwittery Inc. that there's only so much negativity that other people want to read.  After a certain point, it all becomes just a wee bit...meh.

So I stopped.  Jeebus, I was making myself even more depressed than I already was.

In a nutshell, since 21st May, things HAVE improved a bit - but only truly in the last two days when I finally got a colleague.  The original holder of Gandalf of Excel's post has been on maternity leave, but she's back - and she appears to be a woman after my own heart.  She is a ''getter-of-shit-done'', and that's good enough for me.  She's also a ''do what you think best - tell me if it goes wrong (which I doubt it will) and I will sort it'' person.  I think we will rub along quite nicely.  Plus, she is The Merlin of Excel, and trumps Gandalf hands down. She's also further up the food chain than Cherub.  It's all good.  Cautious optimism.

Cherub hates me now.  This is because I truly, TRULY got one over on her the week before last, and because I now have (by accident, not design) a friend in a VERY high place within Fuckwittery Inc.

The person who ended up helping me to solve a very sticky computer problem, just by dint of picking up the phone to me while passing through someone else's office and then making a side trip to the office on his way to a far more important meeting elsewhere on our floor, is SO far up the food chain that he's practically God Almighty himself. I had no idea who this person was.  He told me his name was Lucky.  I thought he was a simple tech nerd in IT.  I explained the problem.  He offered to come and help me. 

And there he was, at my desk, helping me, when Cherub walked in and heard me, in conversation,  calling him Lucky. It is, after all, his name.  

 ''Oh, Mr Skywalker'', she spluttered. ''What are you doing here?  I'm Cherub.  I'm the Ops Manager on this floor''. 

 ''I'm helping Pinny with a problem'', said Mr Skywalker, ignoring Cherub's introduction.

''But...but...how are you personally involved with such mundanity, Mr Skywalker?'' 

''Because I happened to pick up the phone.  I do that sometimes''. 

 ''Oh, but...'' said Cherub.  

''Pinny'', said Lucky, ''...did exactly the right thing in taking the action she did''.

BACKGROUND INFO:I'd phoned an outside agency about a glitch in a programme that Fuckwittery Inc are paying for as part of my project - Cherub had hauled me over the coals like a five year old for that - mostly because I'd done it without asking her.  Used to thinking for myself, see?  AND she was at yet another meeting, so I had no-one else to ask about how I should go about things.  I had, however, been introduced to a Charming Sikh Gentleman from Textcom, and had spoken to him for about thirty seconds, just after I started at FI. So I used my ''contact'', and phoned him.  He was charming, and gave me some pointers.

And back to my tale...

 ''Furthermore'', said Lucky, ''I know the Charming Sikh Gentleman at Textcom to whom she spoke about this, and I have also spoken to him, and we have now sorted out Pinny's problem for her between us, after she had been struggling with this issue single-handedly for more than 24 hours.  She should not have had to do that''.   

''Okay now, Pinny?''

''Yes, thanks, Lucky''

''Please let me know if you have any further problems, Pinny''.

''I shall, Lucky, and thank you so much for sorting this out for me''.

First name terms, see?  Me and High-up-the-food-chain-almost God-Almighty-Lucky AND the Charming Sikh Gentleman - who turns out to be someone pretty important at Textcom. 

Fuck you, Cherub.