Stressful day for BM at the seat of Government today!
At around 4.30pm last night a member of BM's team presented her with a problem.
One of BM's team is Hannah, a little blonde piece weighing about 6 and a half stone wet through with BIG BIG issues. Hannah must cycle 5 miles every morning, come hail, rain or shine, will not change her lunch hour for anybody, has fat days when she bins every single scrap of food in the cupboard, makes her mother stand when visiting in case she mucks her cushions up and is physically sick when she has to spend any money. Hannah is unattached and lives alone.
Hannah to BM 'I can't balance this'
BM to Hannah 'Whats the problem?'
Hannah to BM 'It won't balance'
BM to Hannah 'Yes, I gathered that, why?'
Hannah to BM 'dunno'
Leave it with me.
BM took a glance at the paper work. No light bulb moment. BM can see she will have to start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.
One hour later and no further forward I retreat to Casa BM, and looking forward to Friday.
Friday comes around and BM logs in at 8.20am. Two cups of coffee, a check of FB and DF and BM is ready for action.
I'm no further forward at 10am when Hannah shoves some paperwork in front of BM. 'sign that' Hannah is Cumbrian and they don't stand on ceremony. 'What is it?' asks BM. 'Unpaid direct debits' says Hannah.
At this point BM had an out of body experience. here was she running financial controls by the bucket load while Hannah was foiling every one of BM's efforts by altering the cash when it wasn't balanced from the night before. BM (in her mind) stood up and put both hands round Hannah's neck and squeezed hard.
In reality I looked up and stared out of the window at 'The Royal'. 'Gavlar, what time does that pub open today?' Gav is a nice young lad who BM employed last year and is grooming for better things, a 19yr old rugby player. '11am', 'oh' says BM, who, if can't have a drink will eat instead. 'will you go down to Geggs and get me a sausage roll? And get yourself some sweets while you're there'
At this point I had figured what the problem was.
'Hannah, I think you have posted this payment file twice'
No
No?
No
I think you have, it's the only explanation!
I haven't
Oh
At this point BM emails her manager who sits approximately 3 feet away. 'Is there any way the system could have duplicated the payments posted?'
Now BM's manager is a very intelligent man, a bit of a looker, tall, blonde and very well paid. his response came along these lines 'why can't she admit she has f--ked up? For Christ's sake don't upset her, she will end up in the toilets throwing last night's supper of 4 grapes up'
So the system was ok, no hick ups there!
BM decides she must go through all the duplicate payments and reverse them all, approx 750 in total. Oh joy!
At 4pm the process was complete, financial controls run again, oh no! BM is £40.00 out! It did cross my mind briefly to practise the creative accounting I have perfected with HSBC but thought better of it. BM is audited by Internal Audit, External Audit and the Audit Commission, this is public money we are dealing with here.
I like to avoid Tracey from the Audit Commission. She weighs about 26 stone and likes to engage BM in talks about children, not one of BM's favourite topics!
We have the type of email system that briefly shows an incoming email in the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen. The last time Tracey was sat with BM, I had an incoming email from the manager. 'Does she have to fart to give her husband a clue?' BM aged 10 years. Luckily Tracey was bleating on about her son and was oblivious to BM leaning forward to cover the screen.
Anyways back to BM's dilema, I started once again at the very beginning and eventually found the mistake. During the second inspection of the accounts, Hannah approached BM 'Can I go at 4, I haven't got anything to do?'
BM looks up and through a red mist says 'yes Hannah, no problem, have a nice weekend' In BM's mind she jumps up and chins Hannah.
BM balanced the books at 4.30pm.
'What's that bloody song you keep singing?' asks BM's manager. 'It wasn't me' says BM
But she caught me on the counter (It wasn't me)
Saw me bangin' on the sofa (It wasn't me)
I even had her in the shower (It wasn't me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn't me)
She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn't me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn't me)
Heard the scream get louder (It wasn't me)
She stayed until it was over
Honey came in and she caught me red-handed
Creeping with the girl next door
Picture this, we were both butt naked, banging on the bathroom floor
I had tried to keep her
From what she was about to see
Why should she believe me
When I told her it wasn't me
Can some explain to me why women cannot admit their mistakes even when they jump up and bite them on the their backsides??? Is it in their make up?