Someone has

written the word CUNT in the scum on my car's rear window.

I only noticed it tonight, leaving Asda, so I don't know who did it, why or when.

But they were thoughtful enough to write it backwards so when I glance in my rearview mirror, I can read it clearly.

At first I was shocked and was going to clean it away post-haste.

But now I've decided to leave it, as a warning and as a reminder.

Christmas mash-up

So last year I spent some time at the logistics bash dancing with someone I didn't know.

I saw him around the business after that and, once I'd remembered where I knew him from, didn't really speak to him again.

Then I went to a conference with work and he presented a large part of it and I realised that actually he is someone quite important and mentally kicked myself for acting like a twat yet again.

Then last night, at this year's logistics bash, he came over to talk to me when I was with my friends. Turns out he'd tracked me down, worked out what my job was based on where I sit, but then been too shy to attempt a conversation. Fortified with free beer and lots of salmon-based canapes, however, situations are different!

When I told my friend Vik this last night, she nearly passed out. Apparently, this guy is a catch? Shows how drunk I was, I couldn't even remember his name when I was telling the story.

Today's things:

1. Boiler wasn't working this morning so I had to have a freezing cold shower. I am now ready and prepared to swim the Antarctic (cursing and bitching all the way).

2. Upon exiting my death-shower, I discovered the washing I'd put in last night was not, as I had expected, still in the machine awaiting hanging. It had instead been mashed into a sodden, mildewy ball and thoughtfully left rotting in its own moistness on the leather armchair. My housemate's washing was instead in the machine and, residing smugly on the radiators (where my washing would have loved to have been and, as first-washed, had their rightful place) was same housemate's boyfriend's washing. Said boyfriend does not live in our house nor pay our bills, nor has his near-constant presence ever been discussed with me or the remaining housemate. This act of vandalism was enough for me to make sure I slammed all doors near her room especially hard on my way out.

3. I accidentally blocked a junction on my way home and the car just pulled right into my path and the occupants (Daily Mail readers) sat slow-clapping and bad-mouthing me whilst we all waited for the traffic to move. I did a comic doubletake and, after some searching, found the Vs I was looking for in my pockets. They were duly flipped. Then I felt bad, because I'm supposed to be being polite to people these days.

4. Just came home and realised I don't have any food. I really would like some food.

5. Boy Who Is A Tosser now looks like Elvis Presely and once again sits near me. I'm intrigued to find that I no longer have the desire to do rude things to him, however, and not just because of the image-change. I just don't think it's fair to get involved with someone new while I'm still emotionally involved with someone I can't see anymore (Merlin).

6. Tomorrow is the Supply Chain Bash and I am so bloody excited!

7. The shower is working now and I just spent forty minutes languishing in the opulance.

8. I've spent a lot of the day researching MAs because it's that time of year again for me to pretend I'm going back to uni next autumn.

How to suck at baking: the tertiery edition.

When left to my own devices, I always seem to get into trouble.

Two weeks ago someone at work gave me a tiny mince pie and that set me off boasting about how I liked to make tiny food too and that I would make some tiny mince pies for everyone! Then life took over and I never got round to it.

Tonight, I have made them!

They didn't turn out quite like I'd planned. I lost patience pretty quickly with the 'tiny' aspect (really hard to work in minature with long nails) but even regular mince pies in the cute pink muffin cases I've got didn't work.

Infuriated, I gave in and made regular mince pies. Two of these are pudgy-fingered ugly children because I had forgotten that the lid needs to be smaller than the cup. The rest are the work of a blind plumber with leprosy, the sort of thing you'd be embarrassed if your child made.

To add insult to injury, I've just realised that no where - no where! - in this whole house do I have any icing sugar to dust these monstrosities.

There must be something that I'm good at?!

ARRRRRRRRRRR

NOM NOM NOM

Because I work in logistics, sometimes suppliers cock it up. When they do, we issue a Notification Of Misdelivery.

Yesterday, because I was expansively hungover, the long and slurred conversation I had with my warehouse liaison about NOMs for a certain supplier was very difficult and all I could think of was this:

Update

Went out last night to the Panto with a bunch of people from a pharma company and a bunch of people from work.

Came home at 3.30am this morning, very very drunk and happy.

Woke up at 8.20am already resigned to the idea of being late to work.

10am: dizziness and cheese-hunger

1pm: sugar headache

3pm: suddenly cold

5pm: violent nausea

The worst thing is I've promised to meet a different company tonight for drinks and nibbles but the thought of doing anything apart from going home, having a shower and lying facedown on my bed is literally unbearable.

God how can I get out of this.

Oh my actual god

Some people have put together the best map in the world. Fact!

via this Telegraph article. All sorts of placename meanings have been translated back into English and they are so beautiful!

I need to start dropping some serious Secret Santa hints.

ooh ooh ooh a tiny twisty

Some bastard's sent me a parcel which I have to go and collect from the Central Post Office Of Death.

Who would do this to me?!

Minutiae

This afternoon when I got back to my desk my colleague passed me a note. She'd fielded a phonecall for me.

Plz call Killermeds about their email, it said.

I work in pharmaceuticals.

She meant Tillomed.

But now I am starting a drugstore chain called Killermeds.

So we need to talk about Merlin

I was going to talk all about how I went out over the weekend and how bloody awesome my friend Andy from work is and how Donna had a wicked birthday and how rough I felt on Sunday.

But the important thing is that I nearly didn't go out at all because it meant missing Merlin. I've got some sort of major problem with Merlin and I think he might actually have replaced Stephen Fry in my affections.

And then somone who's aware of my equally major problem with boy-kissing ('problem' in the sense that I am banned from watching any TV or movie scene - no matter how innocent -which involves two men, due to my constantly muttering "kiss him" to both characters in a threatening, hopeful manner), sent me a link to this video.

And now I'm ruined forever.