Tomorrow that is.

Oh yes, after two more months than was planned we are leaving this dire strip of tarmac boredom and going back to our rightful home just off Oxford street in that there fancy "The London"!

Not a damn moment too soon either!

There will be shops rammed with CD's and DVDs'

There will be great places to get food from (because althougth they have refurbished part of the office, the canteen is still dire)

There is an ENTIRE STREET OF GUITAR SHOPS!

There are a load of bookshops! including Foils, a shop which scares me as its too fucking big and there are far too many books in it and I get lost. Ahem.

And there is a lively supporting cast of celebs, women of negotiable affection and people of "No fixed mental agenda" wandering all over the place on the streets outside.

I will be able once again to stand on Dennis Nordens front doorstep while having a cigarette.

I will see that strange woman that runs the hairdressers upend her leather shoulder bag and watch a little dog trot out onto the pavement.

Although, I will still be doing this poxy job. It will seem better!

Ho yus.

And also tomorrow we have to be packed and out of the building by 12.30.

Early start to the weekend then!

Yayy and such!

About me, started by Znethy and carried on by others.

And to delay me having to start work.

1, Once, when I was a ickle toddler, I fell backwards down the inspection pit in our garage, landed flat on my back and swallowed my tongue. My Dad had to put his fingers down my throat and flip it out. I have no memory of this but as my dad was probably working on our car at the time, the chances are his hands were covered in oil and grease. Yummers.

2, I once managed to burn the inside of my left forearm with very hot oil from a wok by putting the veggies into a stir fry rather to quickly and splashing myself. I had to calmly ask jo to take over and hold the handle of the wok, then run screaming over to the cold tap. The burn marks took two weeks to go away after a bit of leaking. Charming eh?

3, One of my earliest memories is being passed down from the top of a pile of hay bales by my brother, to my sister in a hay barn when we were on a family holiday, while a rather angry farmer glared at us. Probably many "Get orf moi laaaaaaaaaaaaaand" type phrases were said. I can't remember what my parents reaction was when we got back to the campsite.

There ya go.

Sorry to have bored you.

In the name of Dennis Watermans gusset, how the hell is a quarter past one "nearly two o'clock"

Eh?

EH!

Having punted out another file of information that should, possibly be correct to on of our offices via the company network this morning, I am now facing a dilema.

Do I dive back into the file with 400 accounts on it and continue to wade through that till my brain runs out of my arse with boredom, or do I shred the box file of copies of old letters sent to customers so I don't have to take it with me when I pack up for the office move tomorrow........

No contest really.

Prepare to die you pointless pile of paper!

IT'S SHREDDER TIME!

Things that make me happy

Playing guitar.
My Daughter
My Friends
Relationships
Alcomaholic beverages various. (Enjoyed in the company of good friends or a good guitar)
Relaxing Jacuzzis
Loud rock music.
Holidays.
Good books.
Good films.
Bad films.
Good Food. (Enjoyed in the company of good friends)
Blogging.

Things that make me unhappy.

Commuting.
Relationships
Being taken for granted.
Not being able to help people I care about.
The monkeys in my head.
Me.
Fish with guns.
Society in general.
My job.
My domestic situation.
Blogging.

Yes, your right. I could think of bugger all to say this morning and would have been better shutting the fuck up.

In other news, Good luck to you today. You know who you are. I hope it goes/went well.