March 2nd, 2005

Peaches come from a can, they were put there by a man

So R at work was reading off a penguin packet, and this is a truncated version of the discussion that follows:

R: sharks are the only fish that can blink with both eyes
L: Is that true, I’ve never seen a fish blink.
P: Of course they can, L, haven’t you ever seen Finding Nemo?
Me: P, you do know that wasn’t a documentary?

He he.

Slogging away at the Germany write up. I want to get it *done*, because I have a load of icons I want to make and a load of brushes to play with, and some brushes I want to make (other people make brushes with proper nice song lyrics; I’m going to use Girls Aloud) Photos still good, most of them have come out much better than I thought they would.

The weather is foul today – rainy sleety nastiness – and I have to go to the High Street at lunch. Bleh.

Oh, and tomorrow I get to have Wagamama for dinner. You know why? (well, you won’t because I haven’t mentioned it yet). I am going out. To a gig. And who are playing at this gig, you ask? Presidents of the United States Of America. Oh yeah. Yes, the lyric at the top was a clue. Yes, I do know more songs than just Peaches (though only 3 more). Claire had all the cds off James but didn’t copy them for me (and hasn’t listened to them herself) so we’re just going to go along. Should be most rock. Will be wearing Emily t-shirt and bag. Probably not socks. May well cave in sometime and get the Emily knickers just to have the full set. Would like an Emily hoodie/coat/jumper but they’re about £50 for a black top with some stitching and I am too stingy for that.

And this weekend I may well be going to Orpington with Dear (it’s way more exciting than it sounds, it had funky shops and cheap food shops that sell foreign sweets and ducks) but if not I shall hide in my room, make icons and happily enjoy my bed.

Dear lady who phoned me yesterday in a flap:

When I thought you had a problem with a MOP contract, I understood. I don’t even understand them myself half the time. So fine, I said, send them to me. But when I get my post today and discover what you’ve sent me is an invoice, I do have a little bit of a problem.

You have a managing agent. If you receive an invoice relating to your premises that you do not understand, send it to them! That’s what they’re *for*, for God’s sake! Bloody woman.

Work is a total hard slog, btw. Every day I come in and do a load of data entry (but analytical data entry, which is why I’m not bored to death) and various other bits, and then I figure out the next lot of data entry I have to do, and then I go home and it’s like *ugh* till the next day. I’m not complaining, it’s just annoying because I never get to finish anything. Na ja.