We have decided to have a party tonight. At short notice. Why? Everyone we know either a) has a life and can’t come or b) has children and can’t get a babysitter. Unfortunately, just enough people have said they will come that we can’t call the whole thing off. My favourite rejection email reads as follows: “Darling, If I could I would… but alas, I am in St Petersburg until Sunday afternoon. Oh, one minute Romania and now the other end of Europe… my mind thinks I am in Romania however, although some words are similar being Slav influenced even if Latin as a root, it’s baffling my fur wearing, seal bashing friends here.â€Â Charming refusal or not, it’s a pity he’s in Russia though probably not for him. Do you think we could play charades? Only saving grace is that we spent a fortune on drink this morning which should get us over the worst.
And in other bad news stories: I left my keys in the office yesterday and spent the best part of two hours that I has set aside for fun (I dunno, maybe cleaning the house and having a cup of tea afterwards), toing and froing to the office. Also, trainee and I were wearing the same outfit yesterday (black skirt, bright green jumper and boots), we looked like convent school girls.  As though that weren’t bad enough, she looked much better too and not just because she is a slip of a thing 10 years younger than me but because her clothes were, dammit, nicer. How can this be as I know for a fact that my salary exceeds R’s quite considerably? Is it possible that money can’t buy you style? Alas. And a previous social engagement precludes her attendance at the party too. Sigh.