.,._(@@)_.,.

I had to take a step back for a few days and consider what he did. I will never know for certain if he did what he did deliberately and maliciously; I do however know that he is highly intelligent, and it is very, very difficult to see how someone so intelligent could do what he did without having some appreciation of how wrong it was.

It very, very nearly cost me my job and it has certainly cost me what ever faint chance I had of promotion. Which is a bit of a bugger, given the limited options within reach of where I live. It has cost me the regard and respect of colleagues and the trust of my boss; I can't replace any of that.

Of course I'm shaken mostly because I put myself at risk by giving him the ammunition he needed; I guess I will never ever learn how to live safely with him - I suppose that more than anything else is precisely why I must get shot of him. And if it were legal to own a gun I might easily have just walked in and shot the fucker on Thursday night and pleaded temporary insanity based on what he'd done.

Instead we've returned to our world-famous performance art which we call Happy Families.

I'm back, sort of.