All Work

I didn't sign up for twelve hour days, I'm sure I didn't. I don't mind an early start; I've always been better in the mornings, but the late nights are killing me. I was in the toilet at work last night at 9:30 looking at my face in the mirror, noticing how like scrambled egg my make up looked after that long on my skin and wondering whether I could leave and not look as though I wasn't a 'team player' (as the rest of the team were still there). I did actually leave about 15 minutes later but the tiredness made me irrationally emotional. I was on the escalator at Notting Hill tube and a busking saxophonist was playing 'Baby I Love Your Way' by Peter Frampton which actually made me well up.

Tonight is a big in-house black tie event which we're all obliged to attend. I bought a new dress for it which is quite exciting (£110 down to £35 - gotta love the sales). I'm hoping it will give me the chance to blow off some steam and get to know my colleagues a bit better as I just haven't had time yet.

I'm looking forward to getting the house move out the way this weekend. Once that's organised I'll be able to concentrate on the rest of my life properly. There's loads of organisation to do but I can't let myself feel overwhelmed. Coupled with the sleep deprivation I'm likely to end up on the roof with a gun and a hostage demanding a pay rise, some Kalm tablets and a bucket of Merlot.