Thursday afternoon. I'm knackered, fucked. I have not slept properly in, oh 2 weeks, or is it three. I feel out of kilter.

An office melee has finally erupted, on my behalf. Technical architects send out emails warning us of outages or downtime. I then send out a notification based on my mailing list. I have one for each instance, each server. A mail was sent out by the techies to everyone a few weeks ago, excluding me. One of the developers read it, then deleted it, then forgot about it. He then got everyone wondering why his fucking jobs failed. The buck was passed on to me, 'He's a developer' I hear them whine. I don't give a fuck, just because the twit can code, does not mean that I am to treat him like fucking Rain Man and wipe his ass, or give him a lollypop every time he does something. Learn to use your fucking calendar. There are people here who are stressed, and really have a lot of work to do, but instead they wander about and harp on and on and on about this. Fuck off. I am told that It is my duty to remind the 'developers', even if they have been notified, the Friday before the scheduled downtime. Worse still, it's planned downtime, this means that it occurs regularly, they are aware of it. What I want to know is, how often do I need to remind them, am I to presume that he has a memory span of 1 hour, 4 hours, 1 day, one week?

Fucking retards.

I am off to Devon tomorrow morning. Wonderful. Gail and Alice are flying in from South Africa and are meeting us at Paddington station. It's going to be good, I need to get out of London for a while and just relax, in the countryside. I shall be away for the weekend, so no blog. I'll take the camera down, hopefully get some nice pictures, weather permitting.