Late for work two days in a row. But really, how can I be expected to get here for 9am when there are presents to wrap, cards to write, boyfriends to snuggle with, and Most Importantly outfits to plan for my trip to London on Thursday? Somehow I must pack suitable clothes for all of the following: a) reading poetry, b) ice skating, c) dancing and boozing, and d) pre-Christmas duties at my dad's. All the Christmas stress (not to mention unpleasantness and general ennui at work) has meant that my 'no chocolate' regime has gone spectacularly out the window. Watch this space, for I may soon be driving to Dundee in my bare feet in a car full of Toblerone, muttering and drooling a la Alan Partridge. 10:17 . . .
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