Buzz buzz buzz

Complicated social arrangements were happening all around me today. Bargains to get rides home from sober partners, and early starts for people who most definitely don't care about getting any worms ever, but were prepared to sacrifice their sleep-ins for the chance to relax with a few bottles glasses of wine.

I am the most useless of all things in these situations. I don't drink - which would be a great boon to all the drinkers in the team except that - I don't drive.

I get threatened with driving lessons more often these days than in days of yore. The frequency of mentions multiplied by the number of drinks the government has just reduced the limit by.

Well, that ain't happening any time soon peeps so 'bout time y'all moved on.

There was also some social manoeuvering between me and my darling. I had my work do at number twelve and he had his at number two and so it seemed stupid not to co-ordinate the trek homewards.

My work do started at two o'clock and his started at... five o'clock?

Well that was okay as long as he didn't want to hang around more than a few minutes at his one. It seemed fair. He thought it seemed fairer, since he was the one driving, if he determined what time he would leave and I could stay on until then or bus.

Fair point.

In order to give and receive messages we were both taking our mobile phones. This mayn't seem like such a big thing to you, but to my darling it took a lot of effort and organisation and testing of whether his phone was still working and whether he'd be able to feel it vibrate when it did ring.

I stuck mine in my bra. There's a sad shortage of pockets on most women's blouses.

Over the past few weeks you may or may not have noticed that I have a blog tour underway. This means that there are usually tweets going out about me from the blog tour organiser, a few PR retweeters, the blog hosts themselves sometimes, my own account, and anybody who feels the need to retweet when they stumble across any of these messages. On average there are about six tweets going out each hour with my username attached in some way.

I didn't realise it until today, but when my phone is on and someone tweets something with my username in it, my phone vibrates. It's a big phone - if you've seen the Samsung Galaxy 5 you know what I mean - and there isn't a lot of room inside a bra. It was sitting snugly against the side of my breast. And part of the front.

So I was sitting at a table with my peers and my manager and her manager, and people started to tweet about me.

You know, there's a high level of satisfaction and happiness when you see your own name being thrown haphazardly around the twitterverse. It brings a lot of pleasure.

But not as much pleasure as a large phone vibrating inside your bra.

And the last spot of the week goes to the lovely blog of Unabridged Andra. It's up there right now so just click on the link - go on, click on it - and you can be reading it instead of THE END.

Christmas party tomorrow

and you're not invited unless you already work with me in which case you know all about it already so may as well stop reading.

I have a new outfit (of course) and a good attitude (which may last) and a hearty appetite (as always) and nowhere else to be. I also have a ride home at seven-ish maybe so I can stay on late and par-tee.

I may even splash out a little and redeem my free drink voucher on, ooh I don't know, a Coke Zero maybe? Or I'll stay on the wagon on top of the wagon and have a tonic water which is my fancy I'm-at-a-bar-and-I-can't-drink drink.

But first I have to commit a sacrifice. A blood sacrifice.

En route to the office tomorrow I have to stop off in a seedy part of town and walk into an office I've never been to before, roll up my sleeve, proffer my arm, and have at least two tubes of blood drained out.

Not quite as dramatic as when I wander down the road to the blood drive and they take almost a pint, but close enough.

I'm not that bothered by needles and blood (obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have mentioned blood drive in the above sentence) but there are still the occasional thoughts rattling around about how I possibly shouldn't let too much of it go. Even for the bonus weight-loss.

The good thing about dropping by the blood-test lab rather than my doctor's office is that they're professionals at doing this. They know how to aim and how to hold their hands steady. They can whip out the little plasters while pulling out the needle, securing the rubber caps on the test tubes, wiping the stick site and teaching you how to apply pressure with a cotton wool ball.

My doctor's hands aren't that shaky, but she does sometimes forget there's a patient in the room. Once, she was talking aloud while trying to work out how many vials of blood she needed her medical assistant to draw, and exclaimed 'Gosh, we're going to have to use the biggest needle.'

Nice.

My eldest brother would always faint at the sight of blood (his own, not others) so although I don't share the same traits I am aware of what they can elicit in others. Enough to laugh in astonishment.

Still, that's not as bad as the time I was complaining of stomach pains and mentioned that my mother died of stomach cancer. 'It would be awful to have cancer at your age,' she exclaimed while trying to print out a referral on her computer.

And this is why we have alternative medicine. Or not-medicine as it's more accurately known.

While I'm having my veins pierced with large hollow needles, you can relax and have a lovely read through...It's Raining Books and Long and Short Reviews. They're not up there yet, but they will be shortly so check back in later and have a nice catch up.

Job Interviews

I have one looming tomorrow. The only bright spot is I only found out today so at least I haven't been brooding about it for weeks on end. Just hours. Hours and hours and hours and hours of brooding. My darling is truly impressed.

I've read through some trial questions and come to the conclusion that I shouldn't be trying out for new roles. 'Think about a successful business and why you think it's successful.'

I can't think of a successful business. I can't think of a business. WHAT'S A BUSINESS? Does the business I work for count? Is it successful? If it is successful and it does count as a business why is that so? Does the answer 'because it sells stuff' work as an answer?

There'll be no sleep tonight, I can tell you.

The last time I went for an interview the feedback I received later was that I'd talked more than the interviewees had expected. I had kind of guessed that myself as when I was a third of the way through my 'behavioural' answer both of them had stopped taking notes, and halfway through one of them put her pad down on the table.

I might try for the opposite approach this time. One-word answers. Sweet.

There's a single, glorious spot tonight at the wonderful Laurie's Thoughts & Reviews. As is now traditional with any blog with reference to a review - there won't be one. Carry on.