I went to the party. I texted LELI, told him I wasn’t sure whether to go or not. He told me I should. Then had a phone call, and was told I should go, becuase otherwise it’d stay home alone drinkijng, and that’s what he was doing.

So I went. I paid 320 (in advance). For some chicken wings and some cheese. The foos was prett lousy. I had to drink double vodka’s to keep up.

I got my tits out for it. It was great. Meant I could ponce lots of drinks off people, and I did!

And rainsed a drink to Brian, who was cremated today. May you rest in peace.

I’ve just got back, am debating whether to go to my works Christmas party or not.

I had 4 messages on my home phone. Two were blank. One was half a recorded message telling me I had won a holiday (so much for the TPS!).

The last one has got me stumped.

It is a woman. Crying. Saying “Anni, are you there? Text me……”

Only trouble is, I have no idea who it is. And 1471 has got witheld number.

Only people from the internet know me as Anni. But very few people have got my home number. I don’t know who it is.

Got home tonight, car parked outside my house. I pull into my drive, and as I get out of the car, my dad appears.

My aunt died today.

Fuck!!!!

5.35 this morning I got the text. Been crying on and off since. Tried not to cry when I was on the phone to X, since he is upset enough already.

Was in an all day meeting again today (had one yesterday too), right at the start my boss was getting a coffee next to me, took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay?” “No, not really,” I said, eyes welling up. “I’ll tell you later.” For once she was tactful. Pause. “Okay.”

We didn’t break until 11.30. I think it was an intense morning, but I couldn’t really tell, I wasn’t really concentrating. I walked out as soon as we broke, and rang X. Conversation was going okay until he said, in a small voice, “I’ve got my Newcastle top on.” I lost it. The last few years X has been taking his dad to the football - something he hadn’t done since he was a boy.

His dad was in Spain. His mam was over here, staying with ex-sister in law, doing some shopping for Christmas. He had a friend staying with him, who got up in the night, saw the bedroom light was on, went in and found him, fully clothed, on the bed.

No idea what happens next. There will be a post mortem, and inquest. Well, we assume - I am not really sure what happens over here, let alone what happens in Spain. He had said he wanted to be cremated in Spain, so that is what they are planning to do.

X isn’t sure if there will be a service for him over here. He wants one I think, his mam at the moment just wants it over I think. I did point out that his dad liked nothing better than a bloody good knees up, and it would be fitting to have one. He always got drunk at family do’s, and would get up and sing Cushie Butterfield. He has even been known to do it in tavernas in Greece, serenading the locals!

If there is one, I don’t know if I will be welcome. Fact is, he was my father in law for 10 years. I remember him (again, drunk at some family occasion) once cupping my face in his hands, giving me a big kiss and saying “You know we love you, don’t you.” Thing is, I don’t know how long that held true. I’ve told X that if he wants me there, I’ll go. If he says not, I don’t know what I will do.

I have told my sister. I haven’t told my mom and dad yet. It will hit them hard I think. My mom is going out tonight, I don’t want to spoil that. I will ring her tomorrow morning.

I also rang X’s best friend. I asked him this afternoon if he had told K, and he said not. He then muttered something about sending him a text message. I asked if he wanted me to tell him, and then I’d ask K to tell the rest of his friends - he can’t tell them something like that via text message. I just told K what his intentions had been, and he laughed. “Bloody typical! And I can imagine the message, all it would say is ‘me dad’s dead’”. I had to laugh, because it is true!

I will be glad when this fucking year is over.

I have just been woken up by a text.

Please call me when u wake up. I’ve had bad news from spain - the worst

From X.

I rang him - first time I have spoken to him since I rang him to tell him about my mom’s breast cancer.

My father-in-law is dead.

Had to take the cat back to my parents this weekend. The plan was also to go and see my aunt.

Had my hair done in the morning (same two colours as last time, no shaved patterns this time though), then came back and started loading up the car with cat stuff. Normally, the cat sleeps through anything like this.

This was not a normal Saturday.

Little madam got wise to what I was doing, and it took me about 45 minutes to catch her. Eventually I managed to shut the doors to all the rooms apart from this one, and finally caught her trying to hide behind the curtain. As I came into the room, and she realised she was rumbled, she let out such a bloodcurdling meeow of pain. I hadn’t even touched her. Yet. Little faker.

Then ensued a good 15 minute fight to get her into the box.

Finally set off, and rang my mom on the way to the car, cat yowling her head off. I get told off for setting off so late, because they have been waiting for me.

Turns out they were waiting for me to turn up before they went to the pub for my brother-in-law’s birthday. Only they didn’t wait. Because I had the temerity to turn up after 6 o’clock, and they *had* to get to the pub for then. But, “luckily” there was a 50 minute wait for the food, so they kindly ordered me fish and chips. I have been to this pub several times with them. It is a chain. I have been to other pubs in the chain with them. I have never ordered the fish and chips, because I know it would be horrible. But they ordered it for me. And I had to thank them, as any other comment would have resulted in endless, “Well it’s your own fault for not turning up earlier.”

As it was, I then had to submit to abuse because I had the cheek to have my food brought to the table first. Obviously I was in cahoots with the pub, and had arranged for it, just to piss them off.

I also had to submit to the usual half hour monologue from my mother about how horrible my hair was, and how when I was seven it was so long and lovely, and “Now look at it!” Funny, she always used to like me with short hair. In reality, she doesn’t approve of me colouring it (it’s bad for my hair, apparently, while the 3 perms a year she has submitted her hair to for the last 45 years is perfectly alright), but she has to hark back 31 years to add extra venom to the tirade.

Then, despite my dad having told me we were going to see my aunt on Sunday, I would follow them in their car, and I would head off home afterwards, because my mom hadn’t adequate warning (like she didn’t think I would want to go, and suddenly became aware of it at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and visiting began at 6, 3 hours not being nearly enough) announced she didn’t want to go, so I couldn’t go either.

I left at 4.30. I don’t expect I will go back until Christmas.

I had an email from LELI today.

Subject: I

leli

Bless! I did reply saying I hadn’t noticed, but that may be because I too am grumpy and fed up and not sure what I want to do.

Tonight was the beer festival. I was supposed to be going with Krazy K, but I was so not in the mood for socialising. In the end I agreed to go with LELI straight from work, because I knew if I came home first to drop off the car I wouldn’t go out again. In the end, went with LELI, J and another mediterranean guy, T. I only bought 2 halves of cider, and at 6.5% proof, I only drank half of the second half pint, giving the rest away.

I was trying to explain to LELI about CAMRA members all (okay, exaggeration I know) being beardie weirdies. This was difficult to do, as it was quite noisy in there, the place being full of beardie weirdies. Who might have overheard me. Then J and I were having a conversation about a particular gentlemen. J says, “Now, if you were to have, say, very, very ginger hair, would you grow it long, and then fashion a huge beard? Or would you be like Tom (a guy from work), and have it nice and neat?”

About 5 minutes later, LELI was standing next to us, and the ginger beardie weirdie decided to shout across LELI to his friend at the bar. LELI glanced around, to see who was shouting, and came with about 2 inches of the ginger beard. His face was an absolute picture. I laughed so hard I was crying, and I got cramp in my stomach. I couldn’t explain to either LELI or J what I was laughing at.

We left fairly early, and LELI and I went for a curry. J came with us, to sit and chat but not eat while he waited for his girlfriend to arrive from London. That was fun - I haven’t been for a curry since before I went to Australia. Met J’s girlfriend, who was really nice. Then they went off to have dinner together, and I took LELI home.

And of course, we sat outside his flat for an hour chatting, in the freezing cold. He had told me earlier that his flat was a mess, so I can only assume that was why he didn’t invite me in. But after an hour, I had to kick him out because I was freezing.

Tomorrow (today now) I take the pussy cat back to my parents. After I have had my hair done, although I don’t know what I will have done this time. It’s all a surprise, and my hairdresser can decide tomorrow!

Work is pissing me off.

I went to a ‘kick-off’ meeting for a project I have been told I need to get involved. Apparently my involvement was an after-thought.

I came out of the meeting aware that roughly 75% of the work on the project is going to fall to me. And my boss, who was also at the meeting, still expects me to do all the other crap I do as well. Already I have spent over 2 days completing a pre-project questionnaire. And still I got asked at 4.30 about a paper I have to write, and can I have a meeting with Z tomorrow to go over the figures.

I feel for ONB - we had a one to one today, and I told him that I will try and stop some of the things, but that a lot of crap is going to head his way because of this project. I am also going to be involved in another project, which is even bigger, and will take even more of my time.

Then this afternoon, Z comes over and is talking to Boss lady, and P over something. I am not really listening until I hear Z say in a loud voice, “Well maybe that will please our little socialist, what do you say, Ann?”

I turn around, open mouthed. P says, “Don’t rise to it, don’t rise to it.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

They are talking about some new thing he wants introduced, and he is so incredibly inflexible - once someone is bad, they are always bad. He was taking great delight in calling me the “little socialist” who objects to what he wants to do. “I don’t object to what you are doing, I object to there being no chance of reparation.” I also pointed them in the direction of a new initiative emailed about the company today, about how the new buzz word involves treating all customers with respect.

As Z walked off I called out to him. “Oh, by the way, Z, calling me a socialist is a compliment.” I smiled sweetly, and turned back to my screen. His face was priceless!

About 5 minutes later Boss lady shouts over, “Oh, by the way, Ann, that intranet thing, did you bother to read the bit in the blue circle? That means we can do what we want if a customer does this, this, this or this.” I just looked at her open mouthed. “Let me make this clear, I have never said we shouldn’t do any of these, I just want to make sure customers get treated fairly always, and are not dismissed like so much rubbish. And do you want me to go through it and find bits to quote back at you?”

I turned away before I could respond.

Bitch!