The Mighty, Fallen

I don't normally comment on the passing of blogs I like, as most lapsed bloggers seem to come crawling back to the big B eventually, like a bird on its belly.

But LC seems determined to give up this time, so I thought I ought to say a few words to mark the occasion.

Which is more than I did when LC first came to work in my team. I was going through a terribly bad patch at the time, what with my marriage breaking up and everything, and I felt barely capable of taking responsibility for myself, let alone anyone else.

So, like all great leaders of men, I addressed this situation by almost completely ignoring LC in the workplace, in fear that if I acknowledged him, he would immediately discern that I was a feckless and irresponsible waste of a human life masquerading as some sort of professional superior.

As far as I recall, this carried on for some time, until one day I noticed that some character calling himself 'LC' had left a comment on this very blog. My amazing powers of deduction, combined with the fact that LC had referred to me in this comment as his boss, led me to conclude that this could only be the 'LC' whom we had recently employed.

Naturally I was utterly mortified, especially as in one of my recent posts I had been contemplating the twin temptations of committing suicide and buying expensive French underwear, neither of which, I felt, endowed me with a great deal of professional gravitas.

The only redeeming aspect of the whole sorry experience was that it appeared that 'LC' also had a blog, which at least meant that I might not be alone in the public embarrassment stakes. I was far too scared to look at LC's blog at first, though, in case it referred to me as a feckless and irresponsible waste of a human life masquerading as some sort of professional superior.

Luckily I got over all of this eventually, and LC's blog became staple reading, and one of the few blogs that really, really made me laugh. His review of King Kong, for example, now sadly lost to the world, had me weeping tears of mirth at my desk.

Towards the end it seemed that the female blogosphere could be divided into four categories: those who'd slept with LC; those who wanted to sleep with LC; those whom LC wanted to sleep with, and those whose relationship with LC was strictly professional (if feckless, irresponsible and charlatanical) at all times. I suppose we'll have to find a new taxonomy now.

Unless he comes back, of course. Then we'll just have to forget that this post ever happened. We are British, after all; it doesn't do to display sentiment.