I thought I'd posted already, but in my rush I saved to draft instead - oh well, don't suppose anyone notice.

I got into work early this morning – my manager has overlook the fact that she is on holiday for two days and booked an appointment for someone to come in and see her. She rang up at 10.30 last night in a blind panic – she’d just remembered about it. So I’ve come in early to fib on her behalf and say she is ill, she’ll rearrange when she feels better – that’s right, she'll ring them Monday when she’s in again. I’ve got to hopefully perform this task before 9.00 because I have a 9.10 doctors appointment, when hopefully my doctor will agree to lower the dosage of my medication –she wouldn't do it last time and I was well and truly pissed off.

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OK, I have now made my mind up and know for a fact I hate being a manager. Why do I have to sort out other people’s crap? It’s not as if I don’t have enough crap of my own. Office politics my manager calls it. Office? It’s more like a playground. Who wants to be in my gang? If you're talking to her I’m not your friend!

I tried the nice approach last time. The sit down and talk – sort out your differences, find middle ground. I stupidly thought I had sorted it *slaps forehead*. When will I learn – I’m an idiot, whatever was I thinking.

So this time I've gone for the tried and tested method – I’ve just bollocked them! I only had a go at them on Tuesday - I couldn't have made my feeling known. I tried again yesterday - I think they now know how I feel on the matter. I don’t care whether it works or not – it’s made me feel a hell of a lot better and it's given those two something to think about – they can now unite and make a complaint against me.

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I bumped into my cousin whilst shopping, well second-cousin to be technically correct, our dad’s are true cousins. We were good friends as kids, we still are – it’s just that we don’t see so much of it other now.

I’ve got some good memories of the times we spent together. Scumping the stawberries out of the fields - stolen strawberries taste so much better than brought ones. We’ve a common near us with a stream running though it that forms into a large pool in the woods. We built a rope swing and used to swing off the bank into the water. The danger never crossed our minds and it was very deep in places – our parents certainly didn’t know what we were up to. No mobiles in those days. We’d go for miles on our bikes and we’d take a picnic. Tomato sauce sandwiches, crisps and squash - I’m not even going to try to explain my picky eating habits as a child. I do remember I had a thing for mashed potato, peas and mint sauce – all mixed together and made into a sandwich. The only time I would eat meat was when my Nan made a shepherds pie. She had one of those hand mincer’s that screwed to the table. You put the cooked meat in the top and turned the handle. We always had shepherd’s pie on a Monday, as she used the left over Sunday joint. She usually made a rice pudding as well - lovely and stodgy - the spoon would stand up in it, and she always let me have the skin off the top, which tasted very sweet.

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Himself wished me Happy Anniversary this morning - he knows it's tomorrow, but didn't want to break with tradition.