Thursday, April 9, 2009

Missing work which means I must be ill

It's true - I went back to my old office at Waterloo, bearing cookies of yum that disappeared rather quickly because of my superior baking skills and the magic qualities and quantities of butter and chocolate involved. I only meant to stay 20 minutes because I know they're all busy making books and there have been redundancies but 2 hours later I was still talking to people, or rather, they were all talking to me and I was drinking tea. Gosh I miss work. I miss making spectacular fuck-ups and getting paid to complain about commas.

But am in Ireland now, where I braved a half pint of Guinness and it was all right. Would be improved dramatically by the addition of lemonade but I was a bit worried the bartender would slap me one if I asked so I opted for a whiskey chaser.

It is raining. Am not sure why I expected anything else. But the accents are knicker-meltingly good.

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