Offices and Birthdays

What sort of a person dashes out of the office for lunch, having spent the morning staring forlornly at spreadsheets, only to hurry in to the nearest Internet café in order to stare at a different computer screen for an hour before rushing back to the spreadsheets? It bothers me slightly that this morning has been bearable only because I knew I had grand web plans for lunch. It also bothers me that whilst it has been bothering me I have also slightly looked forward to writing about it on the Internet.

I am clearly an Internet junkie. Oh well. It's cheaper than smack.

Other things I have done to make my temping less pins-under-the-fingernails terrible include the following:

- Identifying my Favourite Paperclip and lavishing affection upon it

- Writing 'BOOBIES' and 'BOOBLESS' on my calculator many, many times

- Making confetti out of the hole-punch debris

- Having wild and often very misguided opinions on all the varying aspects of the office gossip, most of which is regarding people I have never even laid eyes on, let alone formally met

- Developing a different characters for myself every day to send via text message to my friend Max. These have included Greta the evil German scienist who is semi-narcoleptic and fervently believes that sperm is good for the skin and hair, Tulip the Colombian flamenco dancer and Sally-Ann the apple-picker from the Mid-West, who has six fingers on her left hand and four on her right and can crush whole walnuts with her thighs.

- Watching the clock (this one does not work so well)

- Writing lyrics

- Perfecting my plans to take over the world via the medium of ponies

There are others. Mainly I am just trying to stay awake.

My birthday was wonderful. There was, admittedly, some temping involved, but I powered through it and was in Central London by five o'clock.

I met up with my friends Kirsten, Jessica and Kristen and we sped off happily to Balans in Soho for a happy hour cocktail. We sat there with our variously-coloured drinks in their variously-shaped glasses, me talking excitedly at a million-miles an hour and them smiling politely in between sips of their Margharitas. I saw Kristen slip off and have a chat with a waiter. A few minutes later he sashayed across to our table holding a plate bearing a generous piece of chocolate cake with a big pink candle flickering on top of it. I graciously allowed them to sing Happy Birthday to me before diving into the warm chocolatey deliciousness, but not before I giggled slightly at the writing around the edge of the plate. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANEY!" it proclaimed, joyfully. Near enough! I thought, before licking it all up in one go, as one is allowed to on birthdays and other special occasions like Christmas, Divali and Thursdays.

After cocktails we headed over to the John Snow pub near Carnaby Street, which is one of my all-time favourite pubs because it is cheap and a bit grubby with plenty of atmosphere. More people joined us as we stood outside, clutching beers in the warm early evening. I had a lovely time, then went with Sarah, Tom and Dan to get something to eat before heading home. On the train home I gazed out into the darkness and reflected that, despite my early morning misgivings I had really enjoyed my birthday. My favourite present was a Wonder Woman mug from Dan, which is now sitting in my bedroom waiting to be taken downstairs and washed up.

Tomorrow night I am having a Proper Celebration in Hoxton, for which I will put on a fancy dress and some sexy shoes. I will drink gin tell lots of people I love them. Which, of course, I will mean at the time.

Mostly, though, I am looking forward to getting back to the office to see how Favourite Paperclip is getting on and drink more milky tea until it is time to go home. Have a good weekend.