tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4105614.post-21675998714997081392008-06-24T17:38:00.005+02:002008-06-24T17:46:24.395+02:00<strong>To do</strong><br /><br />On my list:<br />- Stand up for myself at work. Really. Desperately. No, I don't like the fact that other people -psychologists- are being hired for temp contracts as psychologists, while I -also a psychologist, doing a temp as a social worker- am not even asked if I'd like to "upgrade". Yeah, I know it's far from ideal to have to switch 15 cases to yet another temp, but it would have been nice to at least have been asked. Or to have mentioned to me beforehand "we're sorry, but...". What, I'm not worthy of a mention? Wankers. Tossers. <br />- Look for clothes brush and thermometer. The latter is necessary for when the inevitable "it's almost time for the holidays, I'm having a tiny burnout-fever" comes.<br />- Buy flowers for the "garden"<br />- Steal the garden furniture back from mother-in-law.<br />- Send "hurray, you've got a baby!" card to colleague who had a baby.<br />- Cuddle the cats. They're being neglected. <br />- Only cuddle the cats *after* I've found the clothes brush. <br />- Spend some time in the sun to get rid of this vampiric tan.<br />- Try to fix the scratching pole... the cats wrecked it.<br /><br />Good god, I haven't got time for all this!<br /><br />Also to do:<br /><br />- DelegatePiglethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16644272482180927595noreply@blogger.com