Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Tuesday 2 June 2009

It’s fucking cold this morning. Last night for whatever reason I left my bedroom window open obscenely wide. Were I a local yob or tough I would have been very tempted to throw something at and through the window before running off giggling. Fortunately this does/did not happen. Also during the night it would appear that I found myself shivering but instead of crawling under my duvet as any sensible person would do, I choose to grab my Tony Soprano dressing gown off the floor and curl up under that. It doesn’t take a professor to work out how little of me this actually covers.

I’m in a weird mood today, neither bad nor good. Please can somebody give me some energy?

I check my phone to check my emails (AOL has died during the night) and it is to find two emails from my friend in Holland Park.

The train is rammed today. It is a short train apparently due to last night’s breakdown at Witham (which I inadvertently experience and endured). When the train pulls into Liverpool Street at 8.08 Information Jimmy apologises about the physical length of the train today (the lack of carriages) but not the fact that it is late yet again this morning. Priorities.

Once more today on the tube I find myself sat opposite the Parminder Nagra lookalike. And then at Kings Cross station another Parminder Nagra lookalike gets on the tube. It’s a fucking good look and very popular with it.

As I walk into work it is to the soundtrack of “New Brat In Town” by The Auteurs. I am genuinely wowed by this song, it is my new favourite of the day and it is funny to think that it was recorded just a few metres away at Abbey Road. The way the Hammond overdrives at the close of the song is exhilarating. I wish all Luke Haines’ songs were as good as this.

At my desk flipping on the computer it would appear that I left it on last night with it MSN messenger and I find a conversation attempt from Sara in Dubai. I wonder what she wanted.

Again it is another quiet morning in the office, only the operations manager and I. Soon however the phone calls start coming and with them hassle.

The Girl turns up 40 minutes late and very stroppy to the extreme. This is a sure fire sign of defiance and an obvious gesture to disrupt proceedings. Ultimately this is a classic example of her shitty attitude. I wonder if she realised that as a result of such actions she is missing out on bonuses and payrises whether she would tone herself down. Perhaps I should inform her of the tangible damage she is doing to herself.

Almost immediately an atmosphere emerges straight after her arrival, as she displays no remorse or apology for being so late. If she is going to be like this I would rather she not come in at all. When Nora leaves the room I attempt to bring her round a bit and ask what is up but no dice. She tells me that it’s not work. Bullshit. I really don’t want to go back to the atmosphere of the dying days of Claire from earlier this year although more and more I do grasp a better understanding of them these days.

In a way I am lucky I am so busy and that I can submerge myself into work today and ignore it.

In brighter news I make arrangements to meet up with my friend in Holland Park this evening. Originally I was hoping we could meet up at 6.30 but she is busy with “work” so when she suggests 7.30 I reluctantly comply.

The atmosphere attached to the day eases somewhat when the IT Guy comes in and breaks it up to some degree with some uncalculated comments. It is almost with car crash hilarity that he points out The Girl’s strop. At it prompts her to grunt with a little more cohesion in response to him.

Ultimately though I cannot complain as the quiet gives the day scope to be a very productive one and I make a lot of progress.

With a delayed evening ahead I find myself staying back an hour to 6.30 tonight. This is however unfortunately soundtracked by the IT Guy losing his rag at the virus security software people who do appear to have a huge balls up of installing their wares onto our system.

Eventually I get to Holland Park around 7PM. While there I buy a bottle of water from Tesco having to suffer the slowest self service till exchange since their invention. It is lucky I am not in any kind of rush.

As ever I pop my head into the posh bookshop at Holland Park and inside there is some kind of book launch occurring. It isn’t by any author I recognise but as I leave the store I do find myself passing news presenter George Alagiah which is pretty impressive.

When I finally meet up with my friend we have a good old time - her and her shortcut to sexy. It’s a passionate and aggressive evening followed by sensual time,

Heading home the world seems and feels a better place this evening. Summer in the Notting Hill/Holland Park area of London is a beautiful thing; I only wish I lived here.

On the train home I watch as a couple that was previously eating/sharing a McDonalds begin to have a domestic. Its funny, those guys one minute so happy and the next so angry.

When I get home tonight I am exhausted and aching and soon head to bed.

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