I bought two lipsticks today and I can’t afford food.
I’m looking forward to seeing mum on the weekend, however i’m growing more concerned that Jude has learned of my whereabouts and will miss me once again. It’s so romantic isn’t it? Trying for a long time to find me, going out with a rubbish alternative version (Sienna), winding up alone and heartbroken at a little pub in a village in North London, unknowing that the true love of his life (me) is asleep only a few metres above his head. Not like floating in some weird hammock, but like literally through the floorboards and up into my humble bedroom.
All of the above is an attempt at making the blog more interesting as STILL NOTHING HAS HAPPENED.
I had another mince pie today. They were deep filled fancy ones cos they came out of petty cash at work which means the pies are good (gave up on that sentence towards the end, did ya notice?)
Jo has decided that we’ll do cocktails at work every Friday, for charity, which is so much fun. This week we’re having espresso Martinis.
We were briefed again by Tim in the Snug (the Snug is a snuggly room full of briefs (paper ones not cotton ones, otherwise the Snug is surely just a room for sexual activities?))
Rhys and Jordy get in on Sunday. They’re bringing duty free peanut rutter cups and Rhys’ Pieces. Inside jokes lol lol lol.
Yesterday in the office Jo decided that the best way to promote her belief in strategy was to write it on her boobs. Good on you Jo.
The bowl of apples are dwindling. I think sand in a sand timer dwindles, what a lovely word.
Full Definition of DWINDLE
: to make steadily less
This evening we went to see Jake. Jake wasn’t there. Damn you Warren.
We got put onto the social media side of the agency- twitter, Facebook and all that online merriment. Move aside for the Hootsuite hotties and soup sistas.
We’re now on the tahhuubbbee going to see THE AUSSIE BOYS who are making dinner. Titties will be there too- Brent Furniss, and our own fair breasts.