Confusion and Clarity

I rocked up to my job interview yesterday and as I explained to the recuriter that I was just about to walk into the building, he expounded on how wonderful I am for being early. What he neglected to mention was that I was in fact 45 minutes early as I had got the times mixed up! The funniest part though was having a confused man arrive in reception ten minutes after I had sat down, telling me that he was so sorry and that he had forgotten to put me in his diary and that he was lucky that he was there! He led me up to one of those glass rooms and kept apologising and even offered me chocolate biccies to make up for his forgetfulness. After removing my coat and getting comfy in the seat he said, "So, as I mentioned, I'm 'such and such' and I work for 'such and such' and you're here about the X job." Cue blank face from me. "Er, I thought your name was...and I'm here for the Y job?"

The receptionist had asked for the wrong person and made me look like a right dick! I had to go off and have a wander and returned later for the correct interview. The interview went well, or so I thought and was told by him, but I was informed today that the interviewer thought I was too quiet and didn't seem enthusiastic or bubbly. The recruiter said he was shocked because this is me the guy was describing and he actually asked him to check his records and confirm. To cut a long story short, it seems that we both have completely different version of events and I think he's a twat because he's actually making it up. Sometimes I wonder if I really am cut out for all of this job hunting bullshit and today is definitely one of those days!

I was watching a programme on stalking last night and a woman stalked a man for three years after having a one night stand with him. All I can say is, seriously luv, the sex couldn't have been that good and talk about having misplaced energy!

I have to attend parties for the next two evenings so I get to be a social butterfly. They are work related and at least for tonights one, I don't intend to be out for very long. I have had a sore throat for days and want to curl into a ball! Working in media means that even when you go to these things, you still meet pervy guys, which means that I will probably have a few tales to tell. My recent social occasions have taught me that:

1) Wearing big rings or jewellery is a no-no. Do you know how boring it gets when guys keep saying, "Ooh that's a big ring. I mean the one on your hand...."
2) I should just carry my passport and my family tree. "Where are you from?" followed by "But where are you from?" is wearing down my last nerve.
3) I should dance badly because everything else seems to be perceived as provocative and get unwelcome hard-ons pressed against me and wriggly guys attempting to dance.
4) I should be a bitch. When I'm polite and nice, they stick around and only seem to respond to Angry Black Woman syndrome.
5) I should lie and say I'm pregnant or something, because guys can't seem to cope with the fact that I'm not drinking alcohol. I don't feel that I have to explain my illness and the constant questioning did cause me to ask one guy, "Gosh why does it bother you so much? Were you planning on slipping in some rohypnol?"

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, What You Gonna Do

I decided to catch a quick nap before B came over and woke up to Chico murdering MJ's Billie Jean on XFactor (Pop Idol is the closest thing in the US). I thought it was a bad dream so I turned over on the sofa and went back to sleep.

My next nightmare came when B and I headed out for our long overdue girls night out. We had a brilliant night but there are some really weird guys out there, with some even making my stomach churn. As soon as we walked in, guys were seriously harbour sharking and literally as soon as we put our drinks on the bar, the first pair closed in on us. "You having a good night?" is the most over used 'chat-up line' and it was all I could do to resist temptation and say "I was until you came over....".

The first guy was literally the most in your face creep that I have ever come across. The problem with me is that when it comes to talking to guys in clubs I either do bitch or too nice and I need to find a happy medium because I can't deal with talking to these dickheads. He leered at me, kept touching me and coming right up in my face whilst talking to me, even though I not too discreetly wiped his spittel off my face. I have nothing against short men (I'm 5ft 3" well almost, for God's sake) but guys, don't bloody overcompensate for it by being a big, walking talking prick of a guy because God may love a trier, but I'm not God! Don't keep touching me, don't leer at me, don't talk so close to my face that I feel sick and don't ask me if my lips are enhanced and tell me how much you'd love them to be kissing you and then pause and look at your crotch.

After the first encounter we decided to be hard with the guys because we just wanted to have a laugh and enjoy the night. It was like a conveyer belt of bad taste as one guy after another stooped to inappropriateness. Not one guy was actually nice and polite and they were even worse when we weren't taken in by their charms. It was funny though because fortunately we have a good sense of humour and accept that it is part of going out but it does get wearing. It's not flattering and I'm not an attention whore.

I was propositioned by a virgin with very sticky clammy hands (yeuch) and a much older guy in a black silk shirt Barry White style that sucker-darted himself to my body and tried to grind me. "Get off me" I hissed at him. "But I want to dance with you" he said wriggling around me like a slippery eel. "I'm with her" I said looking at B and he promptly grabbed a hold of the two of us and declared that he'd have the both of us. "NO!" we yelled and shoved him off us.

We left after 2am and B got it into her head to eat something which meant a trip to MC'D's. As we walked towards Leicester Square we saw two girls pushing and shoving each other as they braced up for a cat fight. I grabbed hold of B as she gets too inquisitive when she's pissed and all you hear in her girly Newcastle accent is "OOOH! I LOVE a good girl fight!" I quickly yanked her away and told her to zip it before we got the sh*t beaten out of us. We had a great night and it was good to have some quality time - I forgot what a laugh we have when we're together!

I had a really touching email today from someone suffering with sarcoidosis. I never really forget that I have it (you can't when you have the weird things happening to your body) but when I get these emails it brings it home again about what I am battling with and I feel sad, frightened, but then I block it out of my mind and push on.

I think I actually terrified MBF at lunchtime today when I showed him the Penis Parade on Baggage Reclaim and the pics that I have on email. He's black and darker than me but he went a bit pale and was seriously traumatised. I was tucking into a mini cheesecake from Marks & Spencer and as I licked every last drop off the spoon he said, "Seriously, I don't know how you can eat anything creamy right now!" and looked a bit peaky as he kept laughing nervously. "You get used to it!" I said as if I'm a pro dick analyser....

Don't Cha

Last night we headed out straight from work for ZeZe's birthday (happy birthday!) and today I am exhausted from dancing as if my life depended on it and to boot, one side of my face is numb from having my second and final filling done this morning. To make myself feel better, I popped into M&S on the way back and I'm tucking into goodies including flapjacks and a slice of fruit and cherry cake. Yes, I will brush my teeth afterwards!

I don't know where the week has gone as it has been a blur of interviews (job hunting is like a full time job in itself) and meetings (I will weep if I go to one more internal meeting). There was one meeting this week where I realised that this time last year we had an almost identical meeting and nothing has changed since. These are the signs that show I am definitely making the right decision. The more interviews I do and the more recruiters I speak to, the clearer my mind is becoming about exactly what I want. I didn't think I could get anymore clarity but it creeps in by the day and the next few years are having defined goals attached to them.

NYM and I email each other most days and she also gave me some clarity as we discussed our futures and she pointed out that Baggage Reclaim is my business, even though it isn't making money yet. I hadn't looked at it like that but I also realised that whatever job I take, I need to leave room in my life to get on with pursuing my dreams. It's difficult to do that when you're working long days and coming home to eat and sleep. There is no chance that I'm going to do that and I'm wary of being oversold to by recruiters.

Last night I had brilliant fun taking the piss and boogeing the night away in one of London's many cheesy bars. They kept playing that friggin Pussycat Dolls song 'Don't Cha' and I got a lot of mileage out of it with Male Best Friend (MBF). His friend DJ thinks I'm very naughty with my piss-taking but he was crying with laughter every time 'Don't Cha' came on, and even when ZeZe came over for one of the replays she had a good giggle too and gave him a knowing look. Another friend of mine has an admirer that she had a drunken cheeky snog with a while back and despite her telling him many times previously that she's not interested, we spent the evening watching ubrequited lust unfold. She's a major party animal despite her butter wouldn't melt appearance and gets a bit nutty after one glass of wine, never mind the rest. It was excruciating having to watch her rebuff his advances gently all evening and MBF and DJ were in stitches laughing. I took her aside before she left and said "Just tell him. You need to be honest and blunt. Being over kind leaves the door open."

Later I had my own spot of bluntness when I said to MBF "Stop flipping dancing so close to me! People will think you're my boyfriend and I'm trying to spot totty!" He burst out laughing as I worked it on the dancefloor and after a while he said, "Do you know how many guys are eyeing you, trying to get a piece?"
"No I said but can you tell me if some of them are hot totty?!" and continued dancing whilst his mouth flapped.

I looked around last night at the birthday girls friends with their assortment of boyfriends and ZeZe's own significant other and felt happy for them and saw a little bit of why some of us may be single. ZeZe's S.O. is unbelievably nice (his only downside being that he told me I should consider forsaking my FMB's for more comfortable trainers when I complained about my feet hurting) and she is almost as crazy as I am and admits that she normally dates guys with massive careers living the high life. Yet she's blissfully happy and they clearly adore each other. I saw an ex colleague who really fancied herself when she worked with us and went after the big ticket guys, but she's settled down with what seems to be an ordinary guy that clearly adores her. Are some single people so caught up in appearances and the material side that we miss the boat entirely?

I'm on another big night out tonight with my long lost friend B (she'll kill me when she reads this). B works one floor above me but was snatched by the boyfriend alien a few months ago and I hardly see her, which was weird at first because I used to see so much of her. Brace yourself London, we're coming out!

Praying for Swift Mercy.

I think I am enduring a slow and painful, excruciating death caused by sheer embarrassment. It's days like today when I would turn myself over and give myself a wallop across the arse with one of my FMB's. Instead I'm hovering at my desk praying for swift mercy.

I'd like to blame technology, but I can only blame my flighty fingers. My other gmail account which I use for dealing with recruiters forwards to my blog one. I forgot to logout and go into the other one and replied to one of the recruiters - It has the blog url and Baggage's on the signature. I phoned M after my calamity and she was p*ssing herself laughing. Why do I do things like this?

On a good note I have 2 interviews which is a good start in the laborious process of looking for a job. I had to have a heart to heart with the boss yesterday and through his probing questions (it was like being in an interrogation cell), I ended up folding and telling him about everything that had transpired last week. Let's just say that he hit the roof and there was an enormous screaming row afterwards (yes men do love to get high pitched when they're angry) and I sat at my desk and again prayed for mercy.

I was given these speakers (also pictured) by a couple of generous work colleagues (male) although I did wonder if they were hinting at anything because the two speakers are very phallic and could be mistaken for vibrators (not by me obviously!) and the subwoofer is like a plastic bulbous vagina. All the boys at work are jealous and demanding that I ask for stuff for them. They were in a large box so I got Male Best Friend to bring them back for me. We got on the bus on Oxford Street and when he sat down beside this dirty old man, the old guy abused him and started cursing at him. Turns out the guy has serious issues and didn't want anyone sitting beside him and was fighting with himself. However when he stuck his fingers up at me several times and made a fuss at me, I told him to behave himself before I have him put off the bus. Cue much snickering from the passengers, who had already suffered his abuse.

I was exhausted last night and had a lie-in this morning and again wondered if my FMB's were magic. As I got onto the tube this guy stared and stared at me and it was really uncomfortable because his partner was sitting right there. Who does she glare at? Me. It's not my fault she can't keep her mans eyes in his head!

Tesco (big supermarket) is emailing me a few times a week with offers and I'm losing my patience. I am a single f*cking woman for God's sake! Have they ever looked at what is on my loyalty card, my receipt? I never buy alcohol because I can't drink yet I keep being offered so much booze I wonder if they want me to be an alcoholic singleton. Plus what the hell do I need an E-NOR-MOUS turkey for and a rackload of mince pies? Normally I'm being offered ready made meals - does this mean that they know something I don't know? Am I getting a husband and a few kids for Christmas this year?

Back to Normal, Kind Of

"So will I sleep with her on the first date?" my bro asks earnestly. "Definitely not! Don't forget how quickly you lose interest!" I said sternly. "Well it won't be a first date actually because I met her before. What can I do then? A kiss? A kiss and a bit of a fumble?" and he sounds so cute that I almost forget that he's referring to his date. "Er, no. Just a kiss. You should wait until the third date before you try and sleep with her." There's a brief silence and then he says "Oh! Well that probably explains where I've been going wrong all this time!" More silence and then, "A little fumble?" You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink!

I've given him all sorts of advice over the years, going back as far as he was seven years old, and he rarely listens as he follows his dick. He's the best thing since sliced bread but this is the same bro that has at least snogged most of my friends, albeit when we were teenagers. When we got to our 20s (he's 18 months younger), I demanded that he stop trying it with my mates and admittedly, he stuck to the agreement.

Funny though, like a lot of guys with double standards, when I had a cheeky snog with some of his mates he nearly murdered me and them. I remember asking him ages ago if he had any mates he could set me up with.

"Bro, have you got any mates.." to which he replied "NO!" "But you don't know what I'm going to.." to which he said "NO!" "But I'm sure you have some nice fri.." "I f*cking said no! I wouldn't trust any of those tramps with you! I KNOW what we get up to!"

It was back to work today and it was a relatively painless and peaceful day. My boss who has the flattest arse that I have come across in a long time seems to want to impress me and keeps playing me snippets of 'black' tunes and acting gangsta. When he and my old boss David Brent started singing along to Sean Paul and talking in gangsta talk about work, I felt the rhythm draining out of me. I mean, who the f*ck discusses revenue but calls it 'kwarn' (I'm not even sure if I spelt it right but it's gangsta speak for money)?

I met with a couple of recruitment consultants and so far the future is looking very bright but lets see if anything materialises. Naturally when you're dashing off for an interview, an immense paranoia kicks in because you become convinced that everyone knows where you're off to, even though I work with a bunch of numpties who are probably planning what gangsta speak they can come out with next or what time they're going to go for a 'dump' to read the paper! As I dashed to the first meeting at lunch time I found myself looking out for work cronies because London becomes a small place when you're in medialand in Soho. As I dashed into the building, I was sure I spotted someone else from my work but couldn't be sure so waited a moment. My place leaks like a sieve with a gaping hole!

I wore my FMB's (F*ck Me Boots - Knee High Boots for those not in the know) for the first time in a while and maybe they're magic shoes because guys kept meeting my eyes on the tube and I then had to bury my head in my book or a poster. Then there's this strange guy that works on a different floor. We've made eye contact lots of times over the past few months and apparently he was staring at me once because Male Best Friend made a point of mentioning it (male paranoia). I saw him again today and he looked at me so I looked down as I'm crap at this stuff and I think he's a bit odd and then...walked straight into someone. Merciful hour!

Keeping The Bed Warm

A hideous cold has descended on London and when I got into my friends car just after 1am after a girlie evening in and discovered that the windows were frosted over and that we were sitting in an ice box, I thought I was dying. It was so cold that my kidneys started to ache after a few minutes and M and I howled with laughter as we begged for the warmth to fill the car. My teeth chattered and I seriously wondered if hell was a cold place. Black people don't like the cold! Actually, that may not be strictly true, but I respond well to hot temperatures or spring and autumn. Winter makes me want to curl into a ball. The worst part is that I haven't had my FMB's reheeled yet, so I either need to get up early and do it on the way to work or wear high heels.

I spoke to my bro a short while ago who is already in bed and claims to be wearing tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. I suggested he get an electric blanket as I invested in a good one and a cold bed is a thing of the past. "Oh I don't think so. I'd be afraid of setting fire to the place like we did when we were kids." Jaysus, I'd forgotten about that! My step-aunt has a big farm up the north of England and runs a B&B. There was an electric blanket on one of the beds in our room and somehow, and even now I don't quite remember how, we set fire to the bed. We got into terrible trouble and we both denied turning it on and said that the blanket was faulty, when in actual fact we'd been messing with it and forgot to turn it back off. Now my poor bro is too afraid to keep himself warm! "Don't worry about it." I said. "Mine has different heat settings and I can leave it on all night or just pre-heat it. I've forgotten to turn it off loads of times and gone off to work." I didn't mention that every time this happens I sh*t a brick that I'll come back to a flat full of burnt out rubble, but my bro was crying with laughter so there was no need to. He's definitely not buying the electric blanket though!

I had a great girlie night in with two of my closest friends last night and as I described sex toys last night I felt like a sex therapist. You'd swear I use my rabbit all the time, when it is more of an occasional take the edge off instrument. It was great to get out after days of being cooped up and we talked about everything under the sun and at some points I laughed so hard I thought I'd vomit. I was bemused when I heard how they had both bumped into my ex recently with a hardback woman. Seemingly he wasn't too proud to be seen and pretended not to see them both (he knows one of them really well and would normally speak to her) as he went into his building with her and the overnight bag, whilst my friends fell around laughing. Apparently my ex is steering clear of going out with women like me and is instead going out with a woman with a mashed up weave, that's seen better days (bit 'tired' looking) and that was wearing a tracksuit. I have nothing against wearing tracksuits but considering that in one of our final rows he said to me (whilst wearing track bottoms) "And what makes you think that you can be so comfortable in this relationship that you think you can wear tracksuit bottoms?", it seems that he has been prepared to lower his standards in the two and half years since I left him. I don't feel anything for this twonk other than amusement and a certainty that I am sooo much better off without him.

Enough of him anyway! I feel a good bit better although the unexpected cold weather has knocked me for six, so my kidneys seem to be screaming at me. Today was the first time I didn't have to take any tablets as the migraine stayed at bay and I am looking forward to getting back to normality and getting life moving! I have been in PJs for almost the entire time since Wednesday evening and I crave getting back into normal clothes for an extended period. I just need to be careful with the big weather change as my immune system needs to rally against the change and not let me down. I think I'll be fine though, in fact, I know I'll be fine.

If you feel like finding out what the men do with their spare time, check out The Penis Parade in the Baggage Reclaim forum (you need to register to be a voyeur), which demonstrates that men really do love their willies even when it is puke inducing. It seems that female bloggers are receiving unsolicited willies via their email addresses or because they have a dating profile. I'm lucky that I have never had so much as a dirty email!

I just popped into the bedroom to turn on the electric blanket and it was already on. I slept at M's last night and on the sofa on Friday night which means that it's been on since Thursday night. I am a danger to myself! Well at least the bed is warm....

The Wheels Are Turning

I staggered out of bed this morning and prayed for the pain to stop, took painkillers with speed, threw myself on the sofa, turned the TV on, pulled the blanket over me so I couldn't see the TV and aggravate my head further and dozed in and out of sh*t talk shows for the next four hours. I was woken mid afternoon by my bro who was delighted by the news that they won't need to operate on his leg and he'll just have to have physio for his kneecap and ligament (he fell out of a window he was climbing into when he was drunk back in June).

He'd do well as a talk show host because after vowing to keep the info light about why I was at home, within minutes he'd got it all out of me and I was in tears. "Just f*cking say no! I say no to everything and people can't take the piss out of me! You don't get paid enough for that bullshit and it's disgusting what has happened. You've been at home for TWO F*CKING DAYS!" I know I was crying (I blame Extreme Makeover for messing with my hormones) but he was actually right. It just struck where it hurts. This is how my bro is and I wouldn't want him any other way as he tells it to you like it is.

I got off the phone and after sniffling to myself indignantly for a few minutes, I took a deep breath and sent three emails, each one had my CV attached and stated that I was on the market. I received the first call within 10 minutes and within an hour they had all called back and I've set up meetings. I have a pathological dislike of job hunting as I hate being inundated with calls from recruitment consultants as many can be like people that respond to your online dating profile - they keep ramraiding you with things you don't want despite you stating the specifics. This pathological dislike is what has made me take so long, but I jumped the big hurdle today.

I'm at home this evening as I feel like I have a woeful hangover after all of this migraine mallarky. I am OK though, if not a touch fragile, but the wheels are in motion. Male Best Friend (MBF) popped round to make sure I was OK and had everything I needed yesterday, which was nice but also strengthened my resolve about getting things in order and changing the cycle. Work has been a merry go round of brief periods of being OK but generally f*cked off and my love life has gone around in circles this year as Dot Dot Dot Man and MBF pop up in between the other numptys that I date.

With regards to working for myself, I need to work on the practical side of it, start it and grow it to a point where I can leave and I'm not at that point. In the meantime I get a change of environment, more money and some peace of my mind whilst pursuing the things that I love and want and most importantly, will get. Something tells me that when I move jobs I will turn a corner with my illness as a number of the things which drag me down emotionally (work and the underlying stuff with MBF) will finally get cleared up. I will be making wise choices to ensure that the environment I am in next is right for me. My health, my happiness and my personal life come first, which means that I won't be making a reappearance in a heavy corporate environment again. Penises aside, small can be a good thing!

Extreme Makeover

I've been at home today after having an enormous headache for about eighteen hours. Yesterday was possibly one of the most awful days I've had at work where I got the work of one of the most senior sales people dumped on me from a height because they weren't there to do it. I had an afternoon to do something they would have spent a few days to a week working on and I swear that I actually thought I was going to puke with anxiety. It's not that I can't cope with stress or pressure but there is such a thing as being reasonable and hundreds of thousands of pounds dangling in the balance would make anyone feel bloody uneasy.

I took tablets to soothe my head and was fast asleep just after 9pm which meant I missed the documentary on Take That, a boy band I used to love...OK still love and I'm gutted because everyone else seems to have watched it! I woke up at almost 2am on the sofa feeling very confused and as if my head was caving in, so I turned over and went back to sleep. I tried to get up this morning and as soon as I thought of work my head felt like it had been battered, my stomach churned and my heart seemed to race. The day has passed in a blur of crap TV which includes Sally Jesse Raphael (can't believe she's still alive), Judge Judy (doesn't she get tired of being a bitch), The Tyra Show (I think I'm addicted) and a weird show called The Jeremy Kyle show (couldn't help but laugh when a 17 year old pregnant girl with worthless boyfriend got upset and walked out because he pointed out the cold hard facts) and Extreme Makeover.

Now WDKY watches this show on the regular and because he gets a bit teary watching it, I try to steer clear. If you add in the fact that I bawled my eyes out ages ago when I watched an episode where they fixed a whole neighbourhood, I felt nervous watching this one. Yes I cried and even though I think it's unethical to clean up people's lives with a spot of cosmetic surgery, there is no denying that the massive change seems to give these people a boost and I only hope it lasts for them. I cried for these mofo's after all and God damn it they'd better be happy!

My doctor has recommended that I don't go back to work until at least Monday and if I don't feel up to it, sign off for a week. She did point out though that the environment will be the same and unless I resolve the issues, the anxiety will return.

It seems that I need an extreme makeover. I don't need an extreme makeover of my appearance, but I do need to get my life in order and prioritise what's important. Thanks to everyone for their great advice and I have made some decisions but I shall keep you hanging just a little bit longer.

There are signs around us, occurrences small and some large, but they are there to show us things that are smacking us in the face. Over the past few months, particularly since I started my alternative therapy I have made a series of realisations about family, friends, work and life in general and the worst thing that I could do is fail to make changes. I have been imobilised by fear and indecision and trying to think everything out, but I have to remember that there is only so much that you can think or rely on external factors to change before you have to make a decision. You can think until the cows come home but there are very few things that you can get 100% right other than answers on quiz shows and choices between doing something legal or illegal.

The next few weeks are going to be big, scary, dramatic but most of all, they will be what I want. Things don't just happen to you, you make them happen. If we want things to be different we need to make them different. We are the only character that turns up in every scene of our life and we are the only people that can change things, change the pattern, change the frustration. Don't ever be one of those people that bitches and whines about things but doesn't change things. Don't hold people to ransom to get what you want. Don't screw over people either. Go out there and get it and move on. Trust me, karma is a bitch and the things that you do will feel good, worthy and deserved.

Love and work are the key areas that need an extreme makeover and I suspect that when I change work, that I will close the door on what has been a bitter sweet period of my life. I have no regrets, but I do have dreams and aspirations that don't get solved by being in limbo. Fortunately I don't need any lipo or a scalpel to my body parts, but I'm going to lipo the f*ck out of everything else in my life. Woo hoo, I feel excited!

Stop The Madness. Oh and Men, Stop Repeating Yourselves!

Oh my God! Is it possible that I have had three men bleating on and on and on and on and on about the same thing over and over and over again for, oh sweet Jesus, almost forty minutes? Haven't all of these things been said almost forty minutes ago? I stifle a yawn brought on by the sheer boredom of having these nobjockeys listen to the sound of their own voices. Surely I don't actually have to explain myself again. Oh no, she can't jump back in now because this conversation will never end. Right I'll explain myself one last time and try not to sound like I'm gritting my teeth.

Oh thank God. I normally hate internal meetings but at least I'm being saved from having to listen to anything else.

I don't bloody believe this. I've gone from having four people sh*tting on for over forty minutes now to eight people. For f*cks sake I wish this meeting would start as I swear I'm going to lose it in a minute. I don't believe it, he's still effing this and effing that and he has now said the same thing about fifty times. Why does he sound like a whining child? Does he think I'm a therapist and he's paying me by the hour to listen to him rant? NML don't respond. DON'T RESPOND! DON'T RESPOND!

"Shut up" and everything goes really quiet for a moment.
"But.." and I can't believe he's about to start again.
"Shut up!" I cut him off.
"I..er" and he looks uncertain.
"Shut up. Just shut up. Just shut the f*ck up!" I'm about a second away from standing up and doing something melodramatic like doing a jig on the table or muzzling him with masking tape.
"But I'm just saying that...."
"I have had to listen to you say the same thing over and over again for forty friggin minutes. Give it a rest. I've got it. I hear you. You're upset. You're bothered. But don't ever tell me over and over again for forty minutes. I'm bored." and I daren't look up at the big boss.

A couple of seconds pass and everyone starts pissing themselves laughing and I wonder if we are all smoking from the same crackpipe?

I love the way when we're under pressure we all murder each other. I think today was a record for the F word being said in our office but it was good fun even if I am concerned that I am losing the plot. I know us media types are supposed to be highly strung, but are we supposed to want to kill each other and finger point all day long? The meeting ended with the big boss telling us that he was leaving and I felt a brief moment of guilt for my Diana Ross in the airport outburst but quickly told him to make sure he signs off a raise before he goes...

Oh and when did buying a bottle of water from your local newsagent mean that you have to be subjected to trite remarks from the dodgy shopkeeper? They are always very flirty when I buy things but there was a new, older guy in the store today.

"Where are you from?" he asks (that question is sooo passe) and I tell him that I am Jamaican Chinese. "All women I find some attractiveness but you, you have a bit more than most! You very attractive."

"Just a bit?" I laughed. "Yes but it's very good." he replies and I look at him in his dodgy dirty white vest and battered beige camel coat, greasy tufts of hair on his shiny head and medallion around his neck and wonder where the hell he gets the cheek. Whatever it is that men have, women need to get some of it, because men have no sense of reality about their appearances and actually believe that they are hot stuff. They should bottle it and sell it to insecure women.

"You want to buy a comb? Or a brush?" I have a wild-ish curls this week and everyone else other than this poor excuse of beauty pageant judge thinks it looks great.
"You want to buy a new outfit?" and at least he had the good grace to laugh.

What NML Did Next?

I've been fannying around with this post for about an hour so it'll be a brief one as I can't be arsed to delete it again. My day started with the bag full of rubbish that I was taking outside exploding it's contents in the hall and my brain is in danger of exploding from strenuous thought patterns. What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?

I could stay in my job till I get working for myself sorted out but see Male Best Friend (MBF) each day. It'd be fine, we'd continue being great mates but I need to move on completely and I suspect that having him so much in my life is subconsciously impacting on other areas. I may go crazy at work but at least I'd have a job whilst I figure out what to do next properly.

Or I could start applying for other jobs albeit for more money but be unsatisfied till I could leave to work for myself. I looked at jobs today and felt vaguely quesy, but maybe I need to look harder.

There doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day between work, trying to have some time to relax, BaggageReclaim, and of course keeping up the blog. Something says I will do it. The problem is having lots of ideas and not having enough time to sit down and get it in order because my brain is frazzled by the end of the day.

As for my heart, I am ready to give it to someone else. It's F all use loving someone that doesn't make the most of it. The great thing about acknowledging how you feel about something or someone is that you can do something about it. So although I don't quite know what to do next, I also feel free as a result of making the final realisation. If you were me, what would you do?

Love is...A Pain in the Arse when They Belong to Someone Else

We're standing outside a pub in Soho gathered to celebrate a colleagues birthday. We're all in a bit of a pissy mood because this is not where we're supposed to be and it's started to drizzle but the pub is narrow and smoky making drizzle far more attractive. Something, I'm not sure what, makes me look up and Male Best Friend (MBF) comes into vision in his denims and a woolly hat and a weird dawning realisation crept over me as he smiled at me. I still love him. Not in the lusting, white hot, emotionally, mentally tormenting way. There were no fireworks and no tell tale flood of excitement into my betraying body. Instead it just was, just is. It's there as sure as the sky will be there tomorrow.

Now before everyone gets their knickers in a twist, this isn't a knowledge that will change anything about the two of us, but it does make me realise that if there was ever a reason to change job, go my own way, this is one of them. I may love him and I'm not going to try and segment it to figure out what 'strength' of love it is, but just because I love him, it doesn't mean that I'll pursue the unavailable.

When people fall in love and end up broken hearted, most don't have to face their 'tormenter' every day. F*ck knows how I've done it but we have managed to put our friendship back on an even keel and even work together. When things kicked off and I was broken hearted, we worked on different floors but now he works about 10 metres away from me and we work together on a number of the same accounts. We actually work together scarily well. We did an important pitch to an agency recently and as we slogged our guts out in the meeting, there was a moment when I thought how strange it was that I work so well with the guy who I fell in love with but who ultimately left me broken hearted. Where the hell do I get the energy from?

When we subsequently won the business and we were being congratulated, without thinking I threw my arms around him and everyone gave us that 'knowing' look. See that's the other downside of working with the guy that you fell for, is having everyone giving their opinion, observations on us either verbally or with winks and special looks. It's calmed down considerably but it's difficult having people who really don't actually know either one of us say what they think they see and they think they're seeing a love story unfold. Everything that we have both experienced has made me wary of people and their motives as people love to interfere, to sh*t-stir, to cast aspersions and we are two people try to get on with being friends without our every move being analysed.

There was this really funny, ironic moment when we had moved to the next bar and the Pussycat Dolls 'Don't Cha' was playing and he looked at me singing along to the chorus and we both had a fit of the giggles. "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me..." I didn't dare look at some of my colleagues!

Fortunately I didn't get to stay out for too long as I had to meet the stepdad and the bro. Whilst it is nice to have a night out with colleagues and MBF, hearing some of the haters from work being nasty about people, spiteful about people's life choices, I suddenly thought "This is not my idea of a Friday night! There must be more to life than working with such narrow minded people!" So I left them to it and met up with my rather drunk bro and stepdad and had an entertaining catch up.

I think it's good that I realise and admit that I still love MBF because at least I know what I'm dealing with and I'm not hiding from myself. A lot has changed and my feelings are so far removed from where I was before and trust me when I say that I'm fine with this. I think I'd be more worried if I had stopped as I have gotten over previous 'loves' in such scary short times, that I began to wonder if I truly did know what it meant to love someone. In the past 'love' has been a twisted version of dependency, circumstance and often a sacrifice of my character, the essence of me. I get myself into a sticky situation where someone who shouldn't have made it past three dates slips into a relationship because they pursue so hard and I become worn down. The problem is that I make allowances but they don't make allowances for me.

Now whilst people may think that I'm too picky or that I call things off with dates 'too soon', I'm not. I've been through more than enough in the past which tells me that I haven't been picky enough and that I have let things run and run because I hate awkward conversations and I worried too much about what other people would think as you'd be surprised how many people think you should stick it out with a jackass and give them another chance. I think people project their fear of being single onto others so they are really telling you what they'd do.

They say the best way to move on, to get over someone is to get on top of someone else. I have tried that but I also suspect that they have not been formidable contenders for my heart. Must try harder, but is that them, or is it me?

I Expected Catastrophe but I Ended Up on a Double Date

Things really didn't go according to plan which makes me wonder was it some sort of cosmic intervention, or was is just the arrival of my stepdad and my bro's inability to stop flapping over miniscule details?

I had accidentally arranged an evening with moi, M, her BF, Dot Dot Dot Man (D3), Male Best Friend and a guy who I'd had a cheeky snog with. In the end I somehow found myself on what could be described as a double date. A monkey wrench in the form of my lovely stepdad appeared when my bro arrived back late from Italy and was all stressed out about my stepdad staying with him, which meant that I went and collected him, took him back to my untidy flat, got changed to meet everyone later and then went back out with my stepdad in tow to meet the bro for dinner. In the meantime Male Best Friend decided to pop home (we had originally planned to hang out) and then stay home as it was too late to come back in and meet us and the cheeky snog had work issues.

I had a rather raucous dinner with the bro and the stepdad where they both got very drunk. My stepdad is currently living in China (he was previously in Indonesia, Vietnam, Russia, China and a few other places in the past few years), which meant that the bro thought this was a great time to mention that his mates were going to Indonesia for a sex weekend, regale us with tales of what certain ladies can do at sex shows that involve ping pong balls and spelling out things with their twinkles. He kept plying my poor stepdad with red wine and he looked very much the worse for wear when I left them. The funniest part about going out with my stepdad is that he's a 62 year old white guy from up the north of England and guys kept giving me strange looks as I think they thought he was my boyfriend. This guy sat opposite us on the tube and he's eyes were nearly popping out of his head and he kept looking from my stepdad to me in complete confusion.

I actually had a really funny night which admittedly had a lot to do with me making M nervous but giving her the special MJ sign. Apparently she gets nervous when I place my hand on my right side of my waist as she thinks I'm about to start high kicking and moonwalking. Instead I made up my own body popping moves and out of the corner of my eye, I could see this group of guys cracking up laughing. M's boyfriend and D3 hit it off and talked animatedly about God knows what for the whole evening. I think it's great that they got on but being nosey, I wondered what the hell they could have to talk about for two hours. I was also sh*tting it that M's boyfriend would inadvertently say something about my 'situation' with D3. And then I remembered that they were men and that they probably talked about sex, football, other sports and breasts. This was partially confirmed when he remarked that one of the members of the entourage of the performer had enormous breasts and that they were trying to figure out if she was a singer too. "How were you going to find out? Did you think her breasts were going to reveal the answer if you stared at them long enough?" Cue stuttering..

D3 being a typical guy suddenly felt the need to 'show affection' (really means show ownership)when he could see other boys looking. He failed to show supposed ownership though when this guy that was walking towards us grabbed my arse and squeezed it as he walked past. Instead he just looked rather confused.

I was actually glad that the evening had worked out as it did as I didn't have to have any uncomfortable moments and with cheeky snog being unable to make it, Male Best Friend would have felt like a spare prick. My conscience was niggling at me yesterday and I had visions of at least one hurt and confused face and I couldn't do it. Just because they don't do things right, doesn't mean that I shouldn't, so fate collided to save me from actually having to say something before the event. There is a teeny weeny part of me that was disappointed at the lack of drama though...

When D3 dropped me home I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and as I moved away I realised that he might have thought that I was going to give him a quick kiss as he looked a bit caught off guard and his head was at a funny angle. The problem with him is that he's inconsistent and subconsciously thinks that I will fall into step to the beat of his drum. I had a nice night out with him but I don't think that just because on one occasion he's done something on my schedule and at 2 days notice that I'm supposed to be grateful or think that things have changed in a big way. Likewise, he's not the most publicly affectionate of people and not the type you have a snog in the car with, and if he's suddenly decided that he is, I certainly hadn't realised. What do you do when you get on great with someone, there is some attraction but after months of them being in your life you just don't know what to make of them?

Well until I figure out I'll keep flirting with boys and doing what I feel like doing. It's my perogative, I can do what I want to do! {{Cue running man move straight into a spot of body popping a la Bobby Brown}}.

I'm a Normal Person, Get Me Out of Here!

I'm going to nip out in a few minutes to get a cup of tea and there is a temptation not to come back. I am so busy that my brain is frazzled. If I ran away from work, this time I would remember to take the handbag, PDA phone, iPod and very nice coat, although I suspect that with my colleagues being so nosy, they would question me on the way out and ask why I needed so much stuff to go across the street.

My family have told me that when I was about 3 or 4 years old, when I didn't get my own way I would get my 'coatie' and my little bear suitcase and tell them I was leaving. My family being a bunch of nutters would let me get just outside the front door and then they would tell me to get my backside indoors before they called my grandma, which was enough to have me speeding back inside. Somehow I doubt that the threat of my grandma would persuade me not to run away from work now. Unfortunately bills, bills, and well bills is what will stop me from keeping on walking.

There is supposed to be a buzz when your days are hectic and you're hounding clients but I think we're all going to throttle each other by the end of the afternoon. In the back of my mind I am wondering what to wear this evening for my menage et quatre (joke!), plus I'm possibly meeting my stepdad for dinner (he is a typical man though and hasn't actually given us a straight answer about when he is arriving), plus my bro is getting in a strop from Italy because I can't give him more info about my stepdad (he is a typical man and won't actually find out himself) and he's flying back this afternoon, plus my flat is rather untidy.

I've just had one of the lads say the same thing to me about five times in the past twenty minutes and there is a temptation to do a high pitched scream just to scare the sh*t out of him. Why do guys have to go on and on and on and on about the same things over and over and over and over again?

They're Closing In

Don't ask me how the hell I have managed to do this, but somehow I am going out with Dot Dot Dot Man(D3) (formally the Contender), Male Best Friend(MBF) and another guy I had a cheeky snog with on Thursday night. It wasn't planned and when I told M this evening, who is also going, she howled with laughter and said "The world's closing in on you!"

I got an invite to a so-called VIP night at a club and not thinking that all the boys would say yes, least of all Mr friggin busy bee himself D3 who is more unavailable than a unicorn and has suddenly become available, they did in fact all say yes. My head hurts with this conundrum. I need to go back to being a complete bitch and not be friends with guys that I have fancied, exchanged saliva with or bonked. I wonder if I should tell MBF that D3 is coming? Ah feck it! He'll cope. I can do what I like. Have I mentioned that cheeky snog and D3 are friends? Fortunately that's a non-issue, but it is funny that my past is creeping up on me to pull down my boudoir knickers.

All I need now is for the ex fiance and some bad date experiences to turn up and I can have a Tired of Men party. Or maybe I should invest in a dodgy wig and a mac? Something says that I need to cast my net in a larger pool.

I wonder if there will be any hot totty out? It's going to be an interesting evening and I better be looking hot to trot! I really hope I don't get myself in any trouble....

Am I a toy? Am I a comedian? F*ck Christmas is coming!

Everything is fine at work after a rather long and frank conversation with my boss. I won't bore you all to death but suffice to say that I live to fight another day. At least being out of the corporate bubble is something that is actually in sight and close but I also think I've brought myself some peace and quiet at work in the meantime.

I hung out with Male Best Friend(MBF) at lunch which was a good giggle. I took the piss out of him quite a bit (bad habit of mine) and I kept making strangle high pitched Michael Jackson laughs. I had been attempting to buy Stepford Wives, which I wouldn't dream of normally watching by the way but I'm using it for a spot of research for BaggageReclaim. I've managed to convince MBF that I have ordered the DVD so that I can learn how to be the perfect wifey. Boys, they'll believe anything!

Dot Dot Dot Man emailed me a few times today and in a rare act of guilt, I apologised for taking the piss out of him so much on our 'date'. He told me that there was no need and that he hadn't actually been upset, but I think he wanted me to say sorry, he's just too wussy to say so. Unfortunately I couldn't say that as I'm not allowed to take the piss out of him anymore. He's talking about things that we may do in the future such as going to the cinema again and I just don't get excited about it.

The problem with me and boys is that these Mr Unavailable's that I specialise in think that I'm a toy that they can take out of the cupboard when it suits them. Well boys, NML is setting you straight. I don't care whether you think I'm black Barbie (can't remember her proper name), a remote control racing car, a kinky sex toy, a Cabbage Patch Kid, an action man or a PS2. This 'toy' does not get excited just because you take me out the cupboard, play with me and give me a few strokes. I need to be handled with care and given steady attention. I don't like to be sidelined and I'm not good at playing second fiddle to your ego or that big pile of problems that you think I have. Rant over....

As I went into Oxford Circus station this evening I realised that the Christmas lights are up which signifies that the end of the year is almost upon us again. I heard people talking about the presents that they were going to be buying for their significant others and realised that I don't have to fret over buying the man in my life a present, because I don't have one. What do you buy for the man that doesn't exist? A pair of sexy shoes in a UK size 4 for me to strut around at Christmas parties in! Yay!

I do however have to brace myself for going home to Dublin and being interrogated about my lovelife. I often feel like a low rent comedian as I end up regaling them with man tales and they all fall around laughing. There is a moment when you say to yourself "These f*ckers are laughing at me." and then I tell another story and start laughing myself.

Out of My Depth

Within moments of leaving my flat I began to regret agreeing to go to the party because this complete goon kept honking his horn at me and then came to a complete stop and kept hissing and saying crap to me. Then he said "Say something to me sexy baby!" so I turned back and said "F*ck off you twat!" and continued on my way.

There used to be a time when I could party every night but these days I struggle after two nights out. So you can imagine how difficult it felt to be going to meet friends at 1.30am! By the time I got there, I wanted to lie down. I thought we were going straight to the party but for the next hour and half they fannied around, collecting friends, waiting for friends and I lost the will to live. I was livid and if one more person had asked me why I wasn't my usual sparkly self, I wouldn't have been responsible for my actions.

There are some times in my life when I realise that I don't always fit in with my own black folk and last night was one of them. The 'party' was something referred to as a rave and it was held in a warehouse, which due to the number of people, they'd had to get portaloos in. Back in my day, a rave was where I danced around in circles to 90s dance music. Last night it consisted of one floor that barely had any lights on full of 80s throwback guys and women that had obviously dressed in hope of pulling and were no doubt seriously disappointed. There was a lot of leather, clothing with bits cut out, skirts and dresses that barely covered the twinkle and so much breast, I'm not sure why they bothered to wear tops. I love my breasts and show a bit of cleavage but not practically the entire breasts! Add in more gold than a jewellery store, most of it in people's mouths and a few old men that looked like they got lost on the way back from my grandad's domino game and I felt myself losing my proverbial hard-on.

There was one cute guy and I only saw him because I stepped into the lit hallway for a moment. Not being able to see more than a couple of feet in front of you is not my idea of night out. Paying money and the club being too tight to use the lighting - ugh! I think I'm a bit of a snob because these particular friends seemed to be enjoying it. I'm a bar, nightclub person that likes a bit of ambiance, lights, good music, nice venue where you aren't afraid to use the toilet and some eye candy. The music was so loud sometimes that you couldn't actually make out what the song was, and I had to avert my eyes when we were walking between floors as guys would smile at me and I would return it politely and then see a woman looking like she wanted to scratch my eyes out. Everyone seemed to be enjoying this complete sh*thole and all I could think is that I wanted to get the hell out of there.

I lasted just over an hour, tired and thirsty as I had been too afraid to drink anything in case I had to suffer the trauma of going to the bathroom. I left the girls in the club and walked down to get a cab, staying in the lit areas and listening out for any creeps. As I went to cross the road to the cab office, two guys appeared on the other side and continued walking, but for some reason I looked behind me and realised that a guy had been following me. He stopped in his tracks and started fumbling in his pockets as if looking for his keys. I crossed the road quickly and went into the cab office. When I looked out the window he had disappeared. Prick!

I have spent the day chilling out, catching up on stuff for Baggagereclaim and trying not to feel nervous about a one on one meeting with my boss first thing tomorrow. Not really sure exactly what it's about, but I would imagine it's because he knows that I've not been very happy for the past few months and things seem to be going tits up with our team. I'm thinking positively however, lets just say that I don't want to get backed into a corner. My mum said to me in the summer when I made the arrangement about going home a bit early and coming in late two days a week due to my illness to be careful as it could be turned against me further down the line. Lets just say that for quite a while I've realised that the wise old bird (joking about the old) may well have been right. Oh dear... Ah feck it, I can't be arsed to be worried and with any luck, I'll be wrong. Wish me luck!

Hope you all had lovely weekends x

Familiarity with Dot Dot Dot Man

At 2am this morning we both woke up after dozing off watching the news after we had returned from the cinema. It was a nice night although I think that it's possible that I may have taken the piss out of him a little too much. I do it for self preservation and because, well it's funny. One thing that's for certain about guys is that they don't like to believe that they are anything less than the image that they have of themselves in their mind. They don't see things the same way that women do, so already there is a rather skewed perception depending on whose one it is. I think he thinks that we have this amazing connection and that we can potentially slot back into our old 'situation' because like he said previously we get on great, he likes me, thinks I'm funny, intelligent and sexy to boot.

I on the other hand think that whilst we do get on great, I couldn't be less interested in falling back into our old 'situation' if I tried. On top of it, even if he was available, and I don't think he actually knows the true meaning of the word (he thinks it's just showing up), I don't think that I would want to be with him. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and gives you twenty twenty vision.

There was this awkward moment after we woke up when he asked me if 'I' was going to bed. I told him I was and asked him where he was sleeping as I wanted to put the ball in his court, to which he replied "I don't mind. Wherever". "Er, OK" I thought to myself and pottered about shutting things off and moving things strategically in the sitting room so that he could pull out the sofa bed. It was my way of sending the signal that I really wasn't fussed and could call his bluff. Just as I was pulling the PJs out he said from the bathroom so that I couldn't see his expression "I'll sleep in with you and I'll be keeping my hands to myself if you don't mind."

The cheeky f*cker! That's my line! It's me that's supposed to set the boundaries! This was swiftly followed by a vague feeling of disappointment but I disregarded it as my mojo speaking out of turn. "Twat!" I mumbled to myself and when I looked in the bedroom he was under the covers pretending not to be peeking out. I pulled on nice pyjama shorts and a vest which wouldn't have me accused of teasing him and purposefully strode in and switched off the lamp before getting under the covers. It took all of about, lets say a split second before he rested his arm around me and wrapped his legs around mine in that familiar way that you do with someone that you've shared a bed with quite a few times. I thought of work so that I wouldn't laugh....

Admittedly it was nice to be in the bed with someone familiar and it was nice to be cuddled and there not to be any awkwardness. However, being me, I couldn't let the fact that he'd said that he was keeping his hands to himself go by and I kept letting out little giggles with every fidgeting movement that he made. "What? What?" he said but I played around with his mind for a bit (the actual one not his dick) and wouldn't tell him. Eventually I said "Gosh for someone who I recall telling me that they'll be keeping their hands to themselves if you don't mind, you've certainly a funny way of showing it" and we both burst out laughing. "Well you bloody took the piss out of me all night!" he said indignantly. "What the f*ck has that got to do with anything?" I said. "Well I don't take the piss out of you do I?" A moment passed and I finally replied "Well not being funny Dot Dot Dot Man, but there isn't really anything for you to take the piss out of me about." Being a man this was his great opportunity to tickle me which really meant 'Go for the kill' and we finished off the evening with a PG 15 fumble. (I mean the type of fumble that we all used to have in our teens, not the type that goes on these days) There was no discussion of 'boundaries' and he didn't try to literally push his luck on me. Gosh it was nice to have a man not an overexcited puppy in the bed....

He woke me up this morning when he went out to check if his car had been clamped and when he returned he asked if he could use my laptop for the internet. He was gone a while and as I snoozed I remember thinking that on my gravestone it will say "Here lies NML. She had a great broadband connection."

As he walked out the door a while later he made promises of calling me during the week and I was completely non-plussed. God, I'm behaving like a man!

I promised to go to a party with a friend I haven't seen since my birthday in July, not realising that the bloody thing starts at 1am! Jaysus, I should be in my boudoir knickers drinking friggin cocoa at that time! Joke! I tried to go to sleep but failed miserably and it's only now that I have to get dressed (I'm typing in a towel and some wet hair) that I actually want to go to sleep. There had better be some totty there or heads will roll! How duff would that be rolling up after 1am in your gladrags only to discover that there's no totty for me to ogle? I shiver at the thought!

Oh almost forgot. The dentist was so f*cking traumatic that I prayed for death whilst in the hot seat. Let's just say that whilst they were doing their work, I looked like one of those bad actors whose been 'murdered' and the feet start kicking until they die. But I probably looked more akin to the main character in Showgirls when she does that ridiculous sex scene in the pool where she orgasms but looks like a dolphin on acid. That was me, but do you know what the worst part is? I still didn't get a f*cking filing because my gum was so badly inflamed, I had no choice but to go on antibiotics and do Showgirls part two next Saturday. Bastard dentist!

Honest Flasher

I'm in a hideous mood because my tooth is hurting like a mofo, in fact, it feels like one side of mouth is throbbing. It even hurts to talk and I think I overdid it with the ibroprufren yesterday and by the time I got into bed, I had the shakes. Whoops...

What do you do when someone tells you that they want you to be honest and then you are, but they look at you with a face like a smacked arse? I wasn't brutal and I didn't even say anywhere near as much as I could have but if looks could kill! What the hell does honesty mean anyway? In situations like this it means blow smoke up their arse and tell them they're the best thing since sliced bread. I'm crap at that because I won't go that far but will always be polite, nice, but probably distant enough for them to know that they aren't close to me. Here's a couple of hot tips: Never eat yellow snow and never ask me to be 'honest' when I've had a toothache for three days. You'll get what you're looking for.

I have a date tomorrow night in the 'loosest' sense of the word. Dot Dot Dot Man (formally The Contender) and I are going out for the first time since I told him to beat it (couldn't resist a MJ reference - it's been a while!) back in August. I have no expectations which could spell danger for him and depending on how I am after the trauma of my first filling tomorrow morning, who knows how 'understanding' I will feel like being. He's great fun and we remained good friends but he'll be going home with blue balls if he mistakenly thinks that we're going to sleep together. This should be fun!

I bumped into my old boss (the real life David Brent) and was startled when I saw a tassle hanging out of the back of his trousers. I stared for a moment and asked him if he had something left over from a kinky night in with the wife, but it turns out that it's to do with a religious festival or something. I've forgotten what it was because my embarrassment deepened when he attempted to shove it back in his trousers and someone else walked by.

I was horrified to discover that I had walked out of the reception bathroom of my office and had one side of my skirt tucked into my tights. Fortunately it was dark-ish but I was mortified when I realised as it had been like that for about 5 minutes. I wonder if I have a secret desire to embarrass myself by flashing something at least once a week........

Clarity, Plans, Racism and My Lovely Mum

I don't know if the light sometimes hard throbbing in my mouth has given me clarity but I realised today that I have to get things organised and make the move and set a date to leave because I don't want to be in the same space in life in 6 months time. I am hearing so many stories of people that are becoming disillusioned with killing themselves for the corporate life and I realise that I don't ever want to be one of those people that bitches about what I want or what I think I should be getting from a company as I think that once you start doing that, you shouldn't be there.

What do you do when you're in yet another meeting and it feels like same sh*t, different week and you struggle not to yawn? And it's not because you're physically tired, you're just thinking 'I'm not paid enough to have my head wrecked like this'. I'm realising that I don't want to do the whole corporate life which is full of backstabbing, overly ambitious people and more plots than a bad soap opera. There's nothing wrong with being ambitious, I'm ambitious, but I wonder how some people sleep at night. Do they keep brushing their teeth because there's a sour taste in their mouth?

So plans are sliding into motion and I'm talking to people about potential work that I can pick up that will keep rent and bills covered each month whilst I get up and running. I went for dinner with my bro this evening and he thinks that I'm totally doing the right thing and he's the type who'd tell me if he thought I was on crack. So it looks like I'll be ho-ing my self out to all and sundry over the next while but fortunately I have a design degree and lots of experience in various sales and marketing areas, so I'm not shitting a brick..for now.

I think of my mum who works for a company where she's being bullied (mostly racial) and I want to go over there and rescue her. She's my mum for God's sake! Why are people so disgusting? What do you do when someone tells you that you're disgusting for referring to yourself as black? I don't ever want to find myself in her position again (it happened to me when I lived in Dublin) and I want to give her a huge hug and tell her that everything will be OK. A while ago she admitted that she had never understood what the bro and I were talking about when we experienced racism whilst we lived in Dublin, however she's had a complete eye-opener and was terribly upset as she felt hadn't been supportive enough. Sometimes it takes it happening to us for us to truly understand and she was doing the best that she could do. I'm very hurt for her but she has been taking the steps to resolve it for a while and she has all of our support. I just hate the fact that she goes to work every day where she gets ignored, or her stuff gets hidden, or she's just verbalised. Gosh I'm so angry for her! My poor mum.

Like I said, I'm ambitious, but I could never mistreat someone or do something that could adversely affect that persons career. I look at what is happening to my mum and to other people and I just don't want to subscribe to that lifestyle. So maybe I'm ambitious, but not ambitious enough. But at peace with myself.

I feel excited though with respect to the future because I think I'm opening up a whole new direction for myself. I think that working for myself, whilst it will not be easy will give me the job satisfaction that I desire. I want to be challenged and I want to challenge myself. It will also give me the flexibility in my lifestyle which is beneficial for my disease, because you know what? I come first and my disease isn't curable but I can hope to go into remission. My personal life and goals are in conflict with my work and I want to tune out of the drama's of the bad soap opera of the corporate life and focus on getting better and having a quality of life, but in order for me to survive at work, I need to tune in and be a lead character and I just can't do it. I have one life and even though aspects of my life have been compromised due to my illness, I'd better damn well live it to the full.

And for my mum who I love very much, hopefully she'll be living here next year so we can keep an eye on her and I can train her to take care of those future grandchildren that she wants so much!

I'm Throbbing

I got to the dentist and suddenly the pain subsided and I was tempted to go home. I contemplated walking out and having a look in the shops and then I felt the throbbing again. Have I mentioned that I have no fillings? Well now I need two, which will be happening this Saturday and he has put this stuff to fill one of the cavities and holy sh*t, the pain is so awful, and it feels like every single tooth in my mouth is hurting. My cheek is throbbing and I want to curl into a ball. I want my mummy!

It's going to cost £75 per white filling and I jokingly tried to persuade him to cut a deal with me. He looked completely bewildered and he obviously doesn't get my sense of humour and started rabbiting on about inspections from the NHS and they may decide to spot check me when they see my name. "I didn't know I was famous..." He laughed at that one.

By the time I got home I was close to tears and the Ibroprufen hadn't kicked in. I phoned my ma for sympathy and she gave me a rollicking for being the first of her children to get a filling. I tried to explain but feeling tetchy with the pain I said bitchily "Well YOU'VE got fillings" and then spent the next few minutes grovelling and I could hear my little bro's and my stepdad who's visiting from Asia (he works out there) ripping the p*ss out of me in the background.

As I chatted with M a while later, I commented "Well the pain is subsiding but I can't actually close my mouth properly" and we both cackled and then pain shot through my mouth....

We talked about online dating briefly and I definitely won't be trying it again. "You can be who you want to be on those online dating sites. He's telling you he's single and his wife and two kids are having their dinner downstairs."

I'm supposed to be going out with Dot Dot Dot Man (formally The Contender) on Friday and I love taking the piss out of him. He emailed to ask if I had seen something at the cinema and I replied "I haven't been since I went with you a few months ago. I was too traumatised..."

Male Best Friend asked if I wanted to do something on Friday and I told him I was busy. "Can't you cancel?" he said. "Can't you cancel out your girlfriend?" and we both laughed our heads off. He knows I'm a cow, but I think we're genuinely friends now and I can make a joke without all hell breaking loose. "You out with a guy or something then?" he asked a while later. "No, I've given up on guys and I'm doing women now!" Joke!