An admission...

Today I have decided to admit to myself that my PMT is getting out of control.

I need something to take the edge off the moodswings a little, before I go completely postal.

Luckily I seem to be holding off the nastiness at home and work (it's all internalised) but this is only a matter of time. And I'm worried that if I leave it, it's going to head into full scale depression.

Suddenly...DRAMA.

The shelf in our stationary cupboard has fallen onto our office manager. She's covered in tinsel and christmas decorations. This would be funny (and I was tempted to get the camera) but she's hurt her neck. I'm ashamed to say that I panicked...I was the only other person in the office and she was awake and giggling. Then she realised her neck was hurting. Oh dear.

The paramedics are here now. I can another Dotmund situation arising. Oh yes.

It's raining again. I can hear the pitter patter.

Actually it's not so much 'pitter patter' as THUD THUD THUD. It sounds as though the pigeons are dancing on the roof of my office in hobnail boots.

They told me 'you'll love Suffolk, it never rains here'. They LIED. Ok, it doesn't rain like it does in Manchester (once a year, from the beginning of September till the end of May), but it still bloody rains.

In other news, I'm being very very productive in work, to the point of being able to actually archive some of the larger claims files. It's a Very Interesting Job.

God I'm bored.

I know I'm absolutely useless at keeping up to date with this blog malarkey, but actually, on the face of it, this blog has been updated more than any other. Oh yes.

I should put some pictures of our housewarming in here really...there are a few of me looking like a giant drunken red-headed weeble-wobble. So very very sexy. Oh yes.