joyeux anniv....

Wow so I'm 23 eh... Yesterday was my birthday. I was woken up by #1 throwing balloons on me, and I jumped out of bed feeling considerably more perky than I had done the night before, when I got into #1's bed, feeling very sad indeed. She'd bought me loads of goodies to eat - chocolate cake and strawberries :)

Went off to work, busied myself with doing sales leads (dullness-times-a-million). M, aka "picasso-potato" wished me "warm wishes" for my birthday and although I tried to control the involuntary shuddering, I couldn't help it. I got to chat to SS a lot more than usual, which was really nice. He's probably the nicest boss you could ever have. He's fair and he's really fun. Plus I like him a lot, we agree on a lot of things (including the new Rihanna song). I think if it wasn't for him and K, I would hate work. Whereas I feel that if I get my work done, I'm actually rewarded for it - whether by having a laugh or doing the stationery order (I am a strangely big fan of the stationery order). That makes it sound really lame. It's not lame at all. My job could be utter shit if the people were all awful - like M, as a prime example - but as it is, I like being there (up to a certain point, which I'll get onto in a bit).

I made a complete tit of myself when I was given a cake (normally I am the one who carries the cake so it was very interesting to be on the receiving end of it!). Apparently I didn't go too red, but I am sure I sounded like a fool. When I was trying to cut the cake, my hand was shaking so much. I hate that my hand shakes. I think it's my medication but it gets far worse whenever I have any pressure or anxiety - hence why when I had that argument with crazy-ayatollah-wannabe housemate, I turned into a lump of jelly. It was so sweet though to get a card, present and cake from everybody.

One of the other people at work had already arranged that we would go to the Fitzroy after work, so we all headed over there (en route I had a very strange conversation with my mum). To be honest, it was quite disappointing. #1 was there, which I was very happy with. A lot of people ignored me. I find it very odd how people can write "lots of love" in a card and then completely ignore me in the pub. That's not to say that the people I would consider to be my friends at work weren't nice. Some other people who I don't even know very well were very sweet and I must try to be less of a social retard when I see them next week (I am completely socially inept). But it's very odd. The pub was packed, so me, #1 and D sat outside the pub and drank wine, but in the end we got too cold and left, and went to an O'Neills. It was so much nicer, and I was glad to be with just #1 and D, who I don't know all that well, but I think is lovely.

I think I've written far more than enough about work now. After we left the pub, #1 and I stood underneath S's window and shouted her name until she came down and let us in, and we drank tea and ate twix bars. S is an amazing girl and I only wish she would recognise it.

On the way home, the train was delayed at Victoria station so we went to get the tube. We suddenly heard "Can Inspector Sands please come to the control room!" on the tannoy. 'Inspector Sands' is the London Underground's code for EMERGENCY, and whether it's meant to be a secret or not, I don't know, because we both knew about it. The staff said there was a fire and the whole station got evacuated, but there wasn't a fire - there was no fire brigade. There was a screen at ground level that showed what was happening on the platform, and we could see police, a lone man, and no trains stopping. Then a fucking BIRD did a SHIT on my jacket. It was strangely comical. Over an hour later, we finally got a train and back to the hood we went.

When we got home, we drank wine and I accidentally made #1 cry. Then I had an argument with G. Then I did something stupid. Then I fell asleep listening to my mp3 player.