I really must be getting more responsible in my old age; this is the second time in as many weeks that someone has entrusted their kids to me. Mog and I babysat for Moranna's two boys who were so lovely they actually took themselves off to bed at 9pm. At first I was really chuffed that they were so well behaved, but then I started to worry that it was because I was so boring. I kept checking with Mog and saying: "Do you think they had a good time though?". Mog pointed out that it wasn't a date and maybe I should just shut up. So I did.
Week two in the new job vastly improved upon the first. I definitely feel like I'm getting to grips with the various systems and processes. My creative streak was invited out to play when my team started discussing our presentation for the department away day. After brainstorming some (very good) ideas, one of my colleagues told me I was born to do this job. "Yes", I replied, "if there was a job entitled 'Director of Fannying-about' it would be mine." I'm even starting to enjoy the whole 'finance' aspect of my job and was thoroughly engrossed in a presentation on inheritance tax and trust funds on Friday. I can't believe I just shared that with you - how sad am I?
On Tuesday night I went to a 'fashion event' at John Lewis. It was a seasonal update from the same woman who told me my hair colour was 'wrong'. I enjoyed a preview of the latest fashions for the season, champagne (in a plastic cup, because I was late) and an hour to peruse the shop floor. Although I had promised myself I wouldn't buy anything - I came home with 2 (adorable) skirts and one very pretty top. I felt guilty about blowing my monthly budget until half-way through my second G&T with Moranna afterwards.
Hooked up with Sinead on Friday night for more tapas. She had a conference over in Edinburgh and attended in the stead of one the local councillors. Hilariously, when she called to explain this to the conference organisers they assumed she was a councillor herself so she had to go out and buy a cheap shiny suit and some big bling jewellery to carry off the duplicity.
On Saturday morning my hair was dyed darker and, therefore, closer to my natural colour in an attempt to cut my 6 weekly maintenance costs. It got the thumbs up from both Sinead and Mog. On Sunday, I went to look at some flats and saw one that I really like. Fingers crossed, it gets a seal of approval from the surveyor.
Irritatingly, one of my former colleagues called to say that the dodgy guy from 'Networking?' (see below) had called to ask for my new contact details. They didn't pass them on but he said he'd "track me down himself." Every night, when I leave work, I have a look around; half expecting him to be lurking suspiciously in a Milk Tray man gone to seed kind of way.
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2 comments:
This guy isn't George from Desperate Housewives, is he?
He does dress in a remarkably similar style but he is shorter, fatter, older, more married and has that kind of pink face thing going on ( a la Bill Clinton) - and well he should thinking that someone of my calibre would ever even consider ... just plain gross.
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