Cannot wait for tomorrow. This will be the first time in London I have spent time with anyone outside of work besides Sugandh. And that wax statue.

Too tingly to sleep!

5 April 2007

7.14 a.m.

Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me!

What an awesome day this is going to be. Later.

11.45 p.m.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

Will explain from office tomorrow …

Can’t write all that when Gouri is around.

6 April 2007

1.45 p.m.

Finally.

THERE IS NO FUCKING END TO MY FRUSTRATIONS!

Since morning I’ve been asking that Polish secretary Valentina to book me a small meeting room somewhere so I can sit in peace, offload my tensions to the diary and figure and somehow speak to Jenny and apologize.

First I phoned her and told her nicely to check if there were any free conference rooms on any floor. As usual she immediately said ok. I waited for one hour. Nothing. Not even a call to say it is taking time. So then I walked over to her desk and slowly told her, in simple English, if ‘she had any luck locating a conference room for me on any of the floors in this building for one hour maximum’. She thought for two minutes and then looked at me and said: ‘No thanks.’

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS STUPID WOMAN! WHY ARE SO MANY HORRIBLE THINGS HAPPENING TO ME ALL AT THE SAME TIME!!!

I went hunting on my own and just found this conference room on the 11th floor that is permanently reserved for Lederman’s ‘Continuous Innovation And Improvement’ team. But I don’t think any meeting has taken place here in months. Dust everywhere.

Ok so now let me tell you the several disasters that took place yesterday.

In the beginning, as usual, everything looked fine. Jenny double-confirmed that she would come to my apartment. Alex also sent me a confirmation email and I replied, cleverly, ‘As previously discussed in my last email.’

Then I left office early, bought a bottle of wine from Tesco, went home, bathed, shaved and changed. Finally I got a chance to use the little bottle of Hermes perfume that I took from the British Airways flight when I came to London. The cheap airline bastards don’t put a cap on the bottles in the toilet and I had to make one out of those rings of plastic they give to put on the toilet seat. Thankfully not all of the perfume had evaporated.

At that point I suddenly realized that I did not have a corkscrew to open the bottle. I called the reception. Apparently they have one but it is only for ‘official use sir’. Bloody colonial mass murderers.

By this point in time Jenny turned up. She was wearing the same clothes she usually wears to office: pant-suit, white shirt, shoes and a small handbag. But did I smell a slight whiff of perfume of some kind? I think so.