Secs in the City

While I do, of course, love my job with an absolute passion, there are times when I dream of packing up my tea mug and moving on to pastures new. Ideally, I would like a new job with a six-figure salary, 10 weeks of paid holiday a year, with a centrally located loft apartment thrown in as well. All, hopefully, in a role which allows me prolonged and personal contact with Jude Law. Failing that, I would just like to get the hell out of here.

So I have been reading the job ads. I am aware that most normal people do this regularly anyway. But my company is so small - and my boss is such a neurotic fool - that any sign that someone might be thinking about leaving is seen as a great betrayal, a rejection of the cosy, "family" atmosphere he has attempted to create (ie, we spend large periods of time not speaking to each other). It is like trying to leave the Mafia.

Say I am sat at my desk, then, just idly flicking through the paper. Well, what do you know? Here are the job ads. Might just scan through them, casually. And should I spot something I might be interested in? Well, I react as though I am trying to dig a tunnel out of a high-security prison. I glance around, to make sure no one is watching, furtively moving into position. Heart is pounding, blood rushing, sure everyone is on to me. With one deft movement, I rip the ad from the paper, faking a not-highly- convincing coughing fit to cover the noise.

And if you thought that was a trial, wait until I come to write up my CV and covering letter. No matter how hard I try to justify it - it is my lunch hour; I am just borrowing the computer; I might just be updating my CV (and, er, practising applying for other jobs) - I still can't stop the guilt washing over me. I sit ramrod straight at my desk, every sense straining for indications of an approaching colleague, ever ready to flick onto a fabricated Excel spreadsheet to cover the evidence of my wrongdoing.

If I ever get an interview, I virtually kill myself trying to think of an excuse to leave the office that is both reasonable and would explain me being spotted by one of Big Boss's spies leaving a competitor's office in my one smart suit.

So, given that it would be more work to leave this job than I ever actually have to do here, perhaps it is no surprise I have been here for so long. Ah well, just that long service award to look forward to...