The Rainbow Slider thinks you may be interested in my day so as she has been a super star these past couple of days I'm actually doing what I'm told for once. Maybe I should have ensured that you were all sitting down before I said that. Sorry. You shouldn't really drink coffee over your keyboard.

Regular readers will have been aware that due to a situation beyond my control I have had to apply for and interview for my own job. At this point most of my compadres here in Internet Land have their fingers in their ears singing 'Lalalalalla. Has she stopped chuntering on yet?' Anyway today was the day and from early yesterday folks around here stepped up to the plate to stop me going completely off the deep end. And I am eternally grateful. The Rainbow Slider bore with me during the saga of the singular shoe. And for the record, of course I have more than one pair of black high heels but I wanted/needed that pair. They're 'from the car to the bar' shoes i.e. not the most comfortable but definitely the ones for the outfit. Look, I'm only 5'5" I needed the four inches that these shoes give me.

So today dressed to the nines and wearing the four inch stilettos, I arrived at my place of work and as usual it was raining. Dilemma no 1. I can hardly walk in these shoes, never mind run. Need a parking space right next to the door. There are none but two of our care taking staff are cleaning the place. Drive up to them and gulder. One of them finds me a space next to the door just as it stops raining - actually he moves the sign that says 'Motor bikes only.' Pet. As I get out of the car the two of them let out the loudest wolf whistles. This you see is not my normal look. The hair is done - very blond, very sleek. The suit is pressed and there is no coffee poured down the leg or marker pen on it. The face has just been applied - now I do put the face on every day, at my age it's essential - but this face is still in place and is not left behind on my hands, spread all over my face or on my coffee cup. The nails are done - false no less - no it's not the usual but I've just moved house remember and they looked like they'd been through a grater. And then there are the four inch heels. So they looked, they saw, they whistled. I laughed. And found myself on the wrong side of the politically correct fence. These men are my friends, we talk, joke with and insult each other most days of our working lives. Unfortunately the woman appointed as 'equality officer for the Union' (that will be the rant for another day) was also in the car park and objected. Actually she nearly tripped over her moses sandals in her haste to object. She wagged her finger at the men and ranted about how women had been objectified for too long in our establishment. Two mouths dropped open. I told her to pull her head in and leave them alone and then I got it for encouraging the denigration of women. I'm not a good role model apparently. I pointed out that they hadn't whistled at her but at me and I wasn't objecting. At my age I'm glad someone notices when I actually put in the effort and besides we're friends. They wouldn't have done it to someone they didn't know. She offered to send me the booklet she's produced on how we should address each other. I offered to help her digest said book. And on that note left to do the interview.

Now it's odd doing an interview in the place you already work. No one quite gets the protocol. I stop to speak to the woman on reception and she laughingly offers to show me to the office - yes that's right my office. I smile back though I'm not fully recovered from the incident in the car park. Then she calls me back. Would I mind dealing with a query before I go up for the interview? Someone needed to speak to a member of staff who could answer a question for them. Wasn't it lucky that I was there? (that's her speaking by the way) I was so gobsmacked that I went back. I know, totally out of character . Thankfully Mummy Margaret was also in reception and stopped me from receptionistcide. She did it for me. I exited stage left before I also was reminded of why I was dressed up like a tailor's dummy. You've got to love your work colleagues.

Arrived at the office via the loos - just checking that the lipstick was still attached to the lips. I'm going to sue those cosmetic companies who claim all day lip coverage. My coffee cup gets the coverage - at least I can tell my mug from those of the men I work with. None of them have the colouring for 'Ice Tea.'

Boss pops his head round the door. Oh good I'm here, would I mind awfully coming in to the room and giving them a hand? They were having some difficulty with the Laptop and couldn't get it up on the screen. My opposition was waiting to do his presentation. No, I didn't sabotage it, either before or after. Service with a smile. That's my motto.

My turn. Chairman is very formal and introduces everyone. No one else in the room but us chickens who have worked together for the past six years and he feels the need to give me the full names and job titles of all the people on the panel. One of these works right next door to me and I speak to him at least ten times a day, one I have lunch with and coffee with nearly every working day, one, him actually, I hauled home from the Christmas do and had to stop the car to let him lose the vast amounts of alcohol in his system.

I did the worst interview - I wouldn't have employed me. But they have. By the time I got home I'd missed the unofficial phone call from my boss; four other members of staff sent emails congratulating me before I actually knew. Secrets are an unknown and unpracticed concept at work.

So normal service can now be restored. I will be my usual cool, calm and collected self. And I will remember with extreme gratitude those who gave up sleep and work and coffee break to be the equivalent of the toothache making one forget that one has appendicitis. There were loads of emails passed today even though everyone was as usual very busy. Plus afterwards Scally sent boys to congratulate me. Naked boys. Lots of naked boys running. I didn't look.