Dear Cleaners,
While I like talking to you when you are wiping down the desk, moving things around so I can’t find them the next day and vacuuming when I am trying to concentrate, I don’t think my conversation was that bad. I really do object to you leaving you cleaning fluid on top of important paperwork and then leaving me in the room as you all leave early. I ran to the window and banged on the glass, shouting, “please don’t leave me in here overnight,†but alas your dinner was more important than letting me go home.
I picked up my many bags brimming to the top with files, more paperwork and the heaviest laptop in history and balanced them about my body strategically again. Struggling like a tired packhorse, I lugged them down the hallway to find that you had in fact not only left, but all of you had left, locked all the doors and set the alarm.
With the whirring and howling of the alarm ringing in my ear I unzipped my bag to find my mobile and diary. I called the one colleague whose number I had, to find that the next day while she was pissing herself laughing she had changed her number, and I couldn’t get through. So after trying most of the numbers of people who could help me I resorted to the police.
An hour later and 4 phone calls from the nicest police lady (once I had convinced her I was not a burglar and that she shouldn’t arrest me) the key-holder had been found! He arrived an hour later to find me sat on the floor curled up wondering if anyone was going to come and let me out.
The whole thing was a little bit too traumatic for my liking and I hope this is not an indicator of the type of week I am going to have (knowing my luck). I promise I shall never <tut> or FFS under my breath next time you clatter with the Hoover or when I can’t find something I need. In return, I’d like to remind you, dear cleaner, to check the upstairs rooms before locking up.
Yours truly,
Miss. L. Gem
Sex God
poor thing! What a cracker that is.. :lol: 
:blink:
:rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao: 
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