Office Christmas party today at the Millenium Hotel, Gloucester Road. It's where that Russian spy was poisoned. Our company probably got a good rate on it. Never worked so hard in my life. Terrible conversation - some old, idiotic gray-haired guy talks shit to me about my former employer. Actually, I had a good time there. Get lost. Pretend I enjoy his comments. Followed by terrible food. Pretend I like the raw carrots and awful Christmas pudding. Followed by terrible music. I tell the DJ to turn it down and change the CD. He does not listen. I consider attacking him with minced pies. I pretend I am having a good time and drink many, many glasses of white wine ... in the end, I go home early, around 6pm, excusing myself "I have another party to go to." I don't ... but being home alone is more fun.
Oh, and our Christmas bonus has been cancelled this year, citing "internal and external pressures". Life sucks.
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