Someone else's pants

This evening sees me making this entry on 30%'s Laptop and it is an arduous experience.

Now I know that I have grumbled previously about my new machine and how it has a crappy image but I am getting used to it and, bit by bit, - no pun intended- am setting it up so that it suits me.

30% has obviously done the same with hers and we have quite different preferences. I, for example, prefer to use an external mouse and keyboard and although right handed use a mouse with my left hand. I am therefore repeatedly bringing up menus instead of repositioning the cursor and am getting slightly frustrated with the whole thing.

I have to say that I imagine that it is like wearing somone else's pants and I dont mean fresh from the laundry. I dont know why but there is something slightly "icky" about using another persons machine.

Whether it be the toast crumbs that jam some of the keys or the slightly oily slick that covers the screen and keyboard or the drift of dust - I hope its dust - that covers every surface.

Now I need to stress that 30%'s Laptop is not icky and has no crud, oil slick or layer of dandruff. It is just set up differently and is all a bit alien. For some reason when I access the Journal from her PC it takes me to it via a German Blogspot server so I have had to work out where to click to sign on from memory.

I have just found out that it also uses a German spell checker so virtually all of this is apparently misspelt according to that.

Anyway I shall persevere and advise that the "mate with the van" has rung and the Vespa is to be collected tomorrow, so that is good news. Hopefully it will be up and running again in a week or so.

On the work front I spent all day in a torture session with a customer, a third party, project managers and a sales person. Can life get any better?

By way of observation I thought, up until this day, that it was only possibble to have one Nemesis. Now I know that there must be a plural - perhaps Nemeses?

Anyway, I did manage to wreak revenge for this torture when one of my Nemeses advised that she was having to take some time off to have her gall bladder removed. You don't know how much perosonal restraint was applied when I avoided mentioning the "4 Fs" associated with Gall Bladder disease; Forty, Fat, Femail and Fair and this Nemesis ticks all of those.

Instead I sympatheticallly told her about when I had mine removed last year and came to on the Operating Table mid way through the procedure. Do you know, I nearly had to shout because she covered her ears and went La, La, La when I described being concious, paralysed and feeling the tools going in through the keyholes and touching my Liver. For some reason she didn't want to know.

Some people - I was only trying to make sure she was fully informed. Is that Vincent Price I hear?