So Easter is behind us and I have managed to remain "temporarily employed" for ten working days without being asked to leave.  However, life in the slow lane continues to get "curiouser and curiouser" as Alice in Wonderland said, as the working days pass me by.

We have been having some problems with our circa 1987 computer, and apparently there is only one chap to call to fix the same said computer - our I.T. extraordinaire - Warwick (names have been changed to protect the not so innocent).  I rang Warwick up this morning with a hint of desperation in my voice as I had a deadline to meet and computer that is very large, very heavy, very slow, and did not appear to be working much at all.  The hour-glass "I am thinking" icon on the screen went on for literally - an hour.  Warwick was nothing short of delightful on the phone and promised to be there within thirty minutes.  An hour-glass-and-a-half passed by and there he wasn't.  So I called again, and then, somewhat sheepishly, Warwick walked in with a very calm and relaxed approach to my by now hysterical pleas for help.

Time passed all too quickly and nothing appeared to be going on.  I know I was hovering, and in hindsight this may have proved to be part of the problem; and I think I may have been saying things like "is it fixed yet?" and "so what is happening now?" a little tiny bit too much... but then again, this was the "IT" guy of I.T. in the district, so I was sure he was used to a little bit of female nagging.  Obviously not.

An hour and eleven minutes vanished in a puff of soot; I was closer to the deadline time, but nowhere closer to achieving the deadline, and I admit, my ego was more than a little worried about missing the same said deadline and being fired from a temporary position - I just didn't think I could explain that in the farmer's pub on Friday evening... somehow, I had to meet the target.

My face started to turn crimson, and Warwick continued to have his foot on cruise control.  Eventually I couldn't hold myself back and with hand movements not unlike that of a nubile Italian woman at the very end of her tether I sort of shot out the words "Warwick, this is not good enough, we have to get this fixed!"  His reply - "Honey, just calm down" - well "honey" turned to its predecessor - a hive of angry bees.  I replied that there was absolutely no reason to be calm; on the contrary there was much reason to panic.  I said with what I thought was lightning speed "if you do not fix this quick smart, you and I are going to feel like we are in an apartment building in Syria being shot at as I will have missed my very clear deadline!!!"  Warwick looked at me with a completely puzzled look and said "Honey, what the hell are you on about?"

That was it for my nerves, they were officially shot.  My deadline was about to come and go, and Warwick carried on staring at the screen, typing a bit of this and a bit of that, and nothing was being fixed.  I eventually said to him as the clock struck one minute past one o'clock and my deadline was officially over... "Houston, we have a problem" - again, the blank look - again I felt as though I needed a large rocket and I had all sorts of ideas as to where I would place it... But wait for it, for the best is yet to come... Warwick stood up slowly and said "Philippa (my name, for once, was not Honey), I just need to get something from my car, I am coming back now and I will sort this out".  My reply was simple "what could you possibly need from your car?" his reply "just trust me on this, I will be back now, I just need to fetch this thing"... angrily I said "Warwick, what is this thing?" - "I will be back RIGHT now, just wait".  My sixth sense smelt a very large, decaying rodent.  Off our Warwick went to his car, and I sat down, face in hands, as he ran to his car to get "this thing".  A second went by, as did a minute, as did ten minutes, as did thirty minutes, as did an hour... it is now eight hours later and Warwick is still not back from collecting this thing from the car.

And so I sit here, bottle of wine in hand, with my deadline still un-met; my face still crimson; my awe of this town ever growing.

Miraculously I am still (temporarily) employed, and from what I can gather, Warwick is still collecting this precious item from his car.  What is my lesson here, I ask myself over and over and over again?  I have come to three conclusions - it is clearly time for a new computer, Warwick will most certainly be tripped up by one of my stilettos when I manage to find him, his car, and his thing; and perhaps this IS actually a town where, if deadlines are missed, tomorrow really is, as they say, another day.