The works 'do' was last night.
I have the flu. I didn't go. I am very glad I didn't go.
Apparently the food looked ok, smelled ok, tasted, on reflection a 'bit' strange, but you know how it is, having a drink, relaxing with your workmates, no-one wants to be the one who complains, and anyway what does it matter, get the meal over, and on to the club.
On to the club they went, all 75 of them, in varying states of sobriety and dress. The typical company Christmas Party.......whoopee do. Come to think of it, even without a raging temperature and a face that looks like porridge, I don't think I would have gone anyway, I mean who wants to see their boss, er, relaxed? Not me.
So off they teetered in their new heels, bought especially for the evening, paddling through puddles of beer and vomit, to sit and shout over the musak, for a couple of hours at people they don't speak to all the week.
Missed opportunities, lost handbags, smudged lippy, everyone drunkenly told that someone "really loves them," new friendships, ruined friendships, broken heels, and food poisoning, all of life is here.
So, today I have been Mummy at work too. Grown women are worse than kids!
Our own 'do' is next week. Somewhere else I'm glad to say.