weeknight and south london

i cooked for 3 workmates. my standard almost-dhansak chicken dal thing. the kitchen was small, the knife blunt, and i actually haven't cooked in over a month. but it came out well apparently, even though they didn't let me put in as much salt as i thought it needed. brit fuckers...

after a few wines, my tongue uncoiled enough to debate about how it was just kinda convenient to snog (and more) workmates. with a past snoggee present as a non combatant part of the debate. also to egg him on to go for the sandwich lady. in fact i managed to drop in a disgraceful mike-and-sandwich-lady joke that i had cooked 2 days ago at a slow moment in office. also managed to drool, but elegantly, about the not-a-boy-anymore lead actor in hallam foe. i think it has been established that i am not pining away for snoggee or anything, and i am pleased. hopefully he will see my future drunken cosiness and inviting-ness for the superficial physical thing it is.

got home bloody late because, well, tooting bec is kinda far from fulham, especially after the tube goes to sleep. so now, am sleep deprived, very behind on work, and have 7 unopened urgent items in work email inbox that i should see before i pop into a seriously important 10 AM meeting that my boss was already freaking out about at 5 PM.

working girl life continues interestingly.