General Support Log, Week 9

General Support Log
v. 1, week 9

Gwen loves the coat too.

Monitoring:
Captain Jack Harkness (ask_captainjack)
Senior Agent PC Gwen Cooper and Executive Husband Rhys Williams (gwen_e_cooper, therant_willask)
Junior Senior Agent Ianto Jones (ask_aboutcoffee)
Senior Junior Agent Doctor Martha Jones (ask_arealdoctor)
Junior Junior Agent Captain John Hart (oh_doask)
Toast Lovers T and Andy (timeagency and dontask_pcandy)
HRH Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor and Butler Harold Putnam (inquireof_liz)
Time Lords The Doctor (askfor_bananas) and Jenny (askmydad)
Myfanwy the Dinosaur, Max the Beagle, and Tomb Raider the cat.

Incidentally, did you know there was a beagle on Star Trek? Bet it's a relative of Max's. Not a descendant, obviously.

( The Week, In Review )

Poor Rhys was the focus of our puns this week. Well, him and fish.

And then we all went out for tapas, the end.

(no subject)

Today has been a terrible, terrible Friday. Not for me, but for everyone around me.

Mum's chihuahua, Holstein, ate a vitamin and had to have vomiting induced. How you induce vomiting on a chi I don't know and I'm almost positive I don't want to find out, but I figure she'll probably tell me eventually. She called me this morning in a flat panic, on my work phone, and I talked her down. Which I'm sure was a fun conversation to listen to.

Coworker J is sick. I feel that this is not an excuse for him to be ten minutes late to relieve me for lunch, since by his own admission that lateness was because he was having a smoke, but I'm sorry he's not feeling well.

BossBoss has managed to break every machine he has touched today, and spilled spaghetti down his (white, brand new) shirt.

R got a speeding ticket.

I'm a little afraid to go outside, frankly.

(no subject)

I am here at the place where I am supposed to work tonight and they say yes, that event is here but nobody else is here to tell me what to do.

I am the office boy! I don't have any power when not in the office! And I have only one good leg! *wail*

See you all in 4 hours or when I bolt in disgust, whichever comes first.

(no subject)

I guess the awards won't be tonight

brb hunting weevils







ETA: Ianto WON a CoT Award! WE ARE PARTYING.

XOXO

- Gwen :o)


ETA ALSO: (Found your LJ password in your diary. And other things in your diary. Not that I would look.)

ETA ALSO ALSO: (Whoah!)

NICKED, WEEVIL!

JACK, I GOT THE WEEVIL! He was tough and really fast for a Weevil but I got him and now I just have to....



I....uh....

I won?

Oh.

I won? Are you sure?



Well, I know that this is really a...representative award, it represents all of us here at Torchwood, as a team, and our allies of course, and sometimes our...enemies, because they challenge us, or...

And thank you to our civilians and to the people at CoT even if I still am kind of concerned that Children Of Time sounds a bit like a cult, but that's meant in, um, a nice way...

And thank you to the Russians who own Livejournal, I guess?

Can someone help me with the Weevil please?

(no subject)

I am home! Finally! OMG.

The event was fine once someone showed up to tell me what to do. I didn't have to move around much, which was good because I didn't really realise that my come-home-eat-dinner-take-a-big-painkiller ritual was actually a necessity, but it is. Round about 8:30 my leg really started to ache. I took some naproxen as a stop-gap and that worked fine, and I got a bit of food into me, but mostly there was just appetisers and it's bad form to eat while working, so I didn't have more than a few bites.

That being said, I did have a good time, got to speak to some workmates I don't normally see very often and listen in on shop talk I'm not usually privy to. Plus I got to put it on my timecard, so I'm getting a bit of overtime this week.

I caught a cab home, got some food in me briefly, and now I'm for bed. Phew.