Saturday, September 11, 2004

So I've actually had my last day at work. Finished yesterday, thank bloody God. The bitchiness, backstabbing and lying was getting more than I can take. I mean, I'm always up for a bit of gossiping and drama, but please. It got so bad that one of the co-supervisors (remember I explained that one? One supervisor for years then the owner decided to 'create' a new supervising position for her sister and chaos inevitably ensued) has been formally disciplined for something that the manager adn other supervisor do on a daily basis. Mad. Just mad. Seriously reconsidering coming back when I'm on my Christmas vacation. Thing is, the staff may be a nightmare, but I absolutely love the kids to pieces. We'll see any way. Cross that bridge when I come to it.

I went out on Wednesday night, to the Broadway Boulevard, the one and only nightclub in my immediate area. Sounds classy, really isn't. Check out the website and see how us classy North Walians party. Try not to laugh. Saw loads of people that I haven't seen for a while, including a lad formt eh year above me in school who was friends with the boyf in school. He's in uni in Cambridge and loads of his psh Cambridge firends had come down for his 21st birthday. One of whom, was the son of the British Ambassador to Sweden. Very posh. He was all designer indigo jeans, white linen shirt and crucifixes round his neck. Also saw Rhys Wynne, a commentor on my own dear blog and an award winning blogger himself. We exchanged a nod of amused recognition of our exclusive blogger club over the posh mingling Cambridge crowd (he was also celebrating the 21st).

Final thought - I think I may have whiplash. From a sneeze. I kid you not. I got out of bed, sneezed and something went snap in my neck. The boyf reckons i trapped a nerve but it bloody killed. Had to go to work and work with babies and toddlers, barely able to move my head. It hurts less today but is really stiff. So thats good then.


  • At 11:15 pm, Blogger Rhys said…

    Heh. Yeah. I so didn't fit in that night. All those posh people?! We were in Romeo's, and one of them didn't drink. Anyway, he wanted an "Earl Grey". Posh bastard.

  • At 2:31 am, Blogger Laura said…

    Aw Rhys I saw you shaking your funky thang on the dancefloor, don't lie now. But yes they were a bit posh. Everything Tom's always aspired to be, bless his cotton socks.


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