mutual coughing
Aug. 10th, 2005 01:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incandescensThe coworker sitting next to me also has a cold. Since it's about the same stage as mine (dying but still inconvenient) we have decided that we must have caught it from the same person, rather than one of us giving it to the other. If we ever find out who that person is, I assure you, there will be harsh language.
Work was moderately quiet. Good, say I. Good. There's some sort of reorganisation forthcoming in terms of moving some staff over to another building, but I have secured a definite statement from one of the senior members of our uberteam that we are not going to be moved. He knows this because he is involved in organising the movement. Good to have friends in high places.
(Fingers crossed.)
Still, the slowish pace has given me time to work on one of those less important projects which is going to involve a lot of red ink from my boss; Ethical Dilemmas For Coders, to amuse and instruct, multiple-choice stuff. I wonder how sarcastic she'll let me make the comments on the answers?
Though since she's off on annual leave this week anyhow, I've got a while to work on it.
---
"What?" he shouted. "You call my best Sunday Bicorne a daft 'at? No criticism from civilians permitted! Alors! Have you been putting it about zat I am mad? The Emperor Napoleon -- for it is I? Moi? Napoleon Forficula Auricularia -- Le Wig of Wigs?" he finished in a passion as he strutted up and down fiercely and proudly, with his chest stuck out like a battlement, before him.
Before Brigit could reply, an earwig jumped to attention and shouted:
"Permission to reconnoitre, Mon General?"
Permission was given with a wave of a foreleg and without any interruption whatever to the temperamental pacing of the little Napoleon. The other little earwig ran up Pidge's arm and onto his shoulder. He raised himself up on his back legs and pretended to sweep the countryside.
"Just say that all who are truly great are touched with madness -- he'll like that," he whispered to Pidge in a very confidential and friendly way.
"Well, Corporal?"
"All clear, Mon General!"
"We have heard that all who are truly great are touched with madness," Pidge said truthfully and not wishing to hurt his feelings.
The little Napoleon halted and considered this.
"So be it," he said dramatically. "If I have to be loony to be great -- adieu, sanity; ze cost is but a trifle."
-- The Hounds of the Morrigan, Pat O'Shea
Work was moderately quiet. Good, say I. Good. There's some sort of reorganisation forthcoming in terms of moving some staff over to another building, but I have secured a definite statement from one of the senior members of our uberteam that we are not going to be moved. He knows this because he is involved in organising the movement. Good to have friends in high places.
(Fingers crossed.)
Still, the slowish pace has given me time to work on one of those less important projects which is going to involve a lot of red ink from my boss; Ethical Dilemmas For Coders, to amuse and instruct, multiple-choice stuff. I wonder how sarcastic she'll let me make the comments on the answers?
Though since she's off on annual leave this week anyhow, I've got a while to work on it.
---
"What?" he shouted. "You call my best Sunday Bicorne a daft 'at? No criticism from civilians permitted! Alors! Have you been putting it about zat I am mad? The Emperor Napoleon -- for it is I? Moi? Napoleon Forficula Auricularia -- Le Wig of Wigs?" he finished in a passion as he strutted up and down fiercely and proudly, with his chest stuck out like a battlement, before him.
Before Brigit could reply, an earwig jumped to attention and shouted:
"Permission to reconnoitre, Mon General?"
Permission was given with a wave of a foreleg and without any interruption whatever to the temperamental pacing of the little Napoleon. The other little earwig ran up Pidge's arm and onto his shoulder. He raised himself up on his back legs and pretended to sweep the countryside.
"Just say that all who are truly great are touched with madness -- he'll like that," he whispered to Pidge in a very confidential and friendly way.
"Well, Corporal?"
"All clear, Mon General!"
"We have heard that all who are truly great are touched with madness," Pidge said truthfully and not wishing to hurt his feelings.
The little Napoleon halted and considered this.
"So be it," he said dramatically. "If I have to be loony to be great -- adieu, sanity; ze cost is but a trifle."
-- The Hounds of the Morrigan, Pat O'Shea
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Date: 2005-08-10 08:36 am (UTC)Apologies for the randomness. :p
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Date: 2005-08-10 09:22 am (UTC)