2002-06-06 - 7:03 p.m.

4359 8800 8387 2745�oh, sorry. I feel like that early Charlie Chaplin film where he works in a factory and then can�t stop doing the repetitive motions once he leaves. My right hand keeps straying over to the number keypad on my keyboard and the key question in my mind is�Visa or Mastercard? Today, as is my way with these kind of jobs, and indeed, life in general, I made a huge, elementary fuck up and had to spend a large proportion of my time making up for it, frantically covering my tracks and apologising, leaving me with no time at all to photocopy my arse, thanks all the same, Dave. My furtive calls to agencies have quickly turned into blatant conversations in front of my bosses about fucking off. We were threatened today with job loss if we didn�t perform � the company may be considering �moving its operations� to Glasgow, where the labour is apparently cheaper, which means people there must work for a handful of shiny buttons or something.