Radio Ga Ga

Pahahahaha, one of the things I love most about London is that you can go to the pub and get pissed at lunch. I'm not laughing because this fact in itself is hysterically funny, but rather because after 2 bottles of wine between 3 of us, everything is midly amusing. Especially the fact that my colleague Sammi is pretty damn pissed right now, and half the office has just given up and either gone home or gone drinking.

The other half are at a radio awards ceremony today, which accounts for our wanton abandon. What's the point in sitting in a dull office doing sweet FA when you could go out drinking on your employer's time? And before you think I am totally rebellious here, this is a very normal thing to do, and indeed, almost expected. What can I say? "My boss was away, I had nothing to do, and I felt I couldn't justify bucking tradition and NOT going to the pub for a toot." It's the only way - you have to do what you have to do to fit in. Gladly, sir.

So now I'm sitting at my desk, reading blogs and whiling away (did I get that expression right?) the next 45 mins before I can leave. I've an early finish today as well - and they say those media types never work! But I'm trying to locate that stupid binding machine which has gone AWOL before I leave. Apparently the driver delivered it, but signed for it himself (yeah odd, ya think?) and just left it inside the foyer as no-one was around to pick it up. So now we are getting the CCTV tapes for that day and running through them to see exactly what this tosser did. How do you deliver something by dumping it in a doorway and not getting an employee signature? At least if it has disappeared, we can raise absolute hell with the company. I'm in the mood for it actually - I could do a showdown right about now! Gimme! They won't let me speak to the driver though. Obviously he's far too sensitive to handle complaints. Or maybe they can sense my spoiling for a fight.

Luckily, I only feel like fighting with dumbass drivers - not sweet boyfriends. Speaking of which, Shoes says he has some really good news for me, and he won't tell me til we get home. Oooooh, what could it be? I think I know... only because I know and he knows what kind of good news we need right now. Anyway, I won't speculate; I'll just find out tonight and fill you in on Monday - ok, maybe Tuesday.

It's my birthday on Saturday guys, and I'm turning 28. All commiserations welcome. I'll be sure to have some good stories for you after the weekend. Happy Easter everyone!