Vent My Computer Desk

recent months are waving around me like a whirlwind, a gaseous feeling that surrounds me and left me almost no time to deal with the next bubble in a calm. The Mailroom manager internet job requires me full dedication in work hours. No one can say that incurs as a black man, but if you give 100%, organizing this and that, trying not to forget that and dobre all pointing in my task list in bold what's beyond. Work is appreciated, especially when you remember or hear others say that before was a mess and I'm putting the "Chaos Computer demiurge and creator of the universe" (of course they say otherwise, but que me leen habitualmente ya saben que a mi me gusta darle un poquito mas de pimienta a las historias, y el sentido es efectivamente ese).
Peter Lyons, el dueño de la franquicia, esta maravillado, no para de primarme sea con un portatil (cuya pantalla no funciona pero que no esta mal si lo conectas a un monitor), un billete de £20, o un incentivo extra en caso de que alcance nuevos objetivos. Yo por mi parte respondo creando con el Publisher un nuevo sistema de ubicacion de los paquetes, una lista de las llaves que hay que "cortar" (termino ingles para lo que en españa decimos "copiar" y que a mi entender es mucho mas preciso), o un archivador y un sistema de accesos directos que faciliten el control de las cuentas de reenvio de correo. Peter has, as mine bosses had other previously, the advantage of having a worker who takes it seriously and has even scored a beautiful goal, beating the record of Mailboxes ETC (Marylebone High Street, second of all the United Kingdom-) 550 users. When you reach the figure was 498 and in two weeks I have it in 509. With the promise of a hefty amount if it reaches 551 (for which I mainly maintain current customers and new will come always existing but closed their accounts are not moving) I lavish calling to each client and offering even weeks or even months free if you decide not to abandon us. For Peter is a real bargain, because capitalism requires though I'm the let me the skin and the wax on the phone to get a record, will be the English that you see on your bank account a higher profit. Either way I like to do things right, and since at least have the decency to make up the situation with a better salary (which has reached Gear Gifts fold in the last two weeks) worth the effort and save a few bob . Leaving the delightful

money issue aside, I would also like to mention that the last two Fridays Julie and I attended an event in the most peculiar in the busy London life. On both occasions we have gone down at 18:15 in Charing Cross and we set sail every man for himself after work, to the church of Saint Martin in the Fields for once located at the top of a queue thus is nothing until a while later, take a sandwich and wait for the 19:30 while the dome of the National Gallery and bustle of Trafalgar Square are drawn to the bottom as streetscape dream. But that is not, even if in itself wonderful, what I call the event the last Friday, "but what happens afterwards, when we enter the church and candlelight concerts of classical music heard. First a look at the Baroque, with classics from Vivaldi, Mozart, Bach and of course the Pachelbel Canon. Yesterday something different and worse, the Requiem of Mozart sonatas together with some of Austria. It's funny, because thousands of people were like ants moving at full speed to do their homework on time, you may encounter with the beloved, or perhaps the lover or simply the armchair in which to rest the butt after having exposed all day to the shift foreman, who wanted to make it a work of art to change a wage. But inside is different, the atmosphere exudes peace and music, even if not touched by the best, is introduced gently into every fiber of the hearing. There is not a great fuss, only about 300 people, maybe a few dozen above or below, and the vast majority retirees. But that is the charm, feel embraced by a small group (which for a change is a pleasure, in the city of those who come and go).
Well I run out of time, but I can not stop me from commenting to me I feel great. That what seemed an unattainable height became a reality and then a habit. I am happy, and I hope that all who read me what are tb ... Pogno me sentimental and I lose my time ...