Invasion time. The Cow-orker is at a loose end - she has nothing to do, and with the Marketing Shrew away today she has no-one to make sure she stays put. So she's wandered into our area to remind us what we're missing out on.
Her replacement and I are busy with clients, so we're momentarily saved while she attacks our less fortunate colleagues to tell them that even though it's now been several years since she did anything remotely like their job, she understands perfectly the frustrations they're currently undergoing.
(This has become one of the Cow-orker's standard conversational gambits since she moved to Marketing - because she isn't involved with any of the part of our organisation that actually do anything anymore, she keeps trying to establish some credibility with the sections she has to talk to by trying to convince them that she used to do the same job they did and she knows exactly what they're going through).
Then it's my turn as she tries to explain to me how our department's new website and its content management system are intended to work (the website itself is designed by Marketing and, naturally, bears little resemblance to the way the place is actually organised). The method for updating information is simple, she explains - a retarded child could use it! She then tries to explain why our existing site that everyone knows and uses simply won't do anymore but, unfortunately, doesn't make a great deal of sense as she's trying to relay information that's not only secondhand, but slightly technical in nature and beyond her grasp.
Possibly the new system can be operated by a retarded child, but in that case maybe the retarded child should be trying to explain it to me in place of brain-damaged cow-orker...
