Big Gay Grown Up Week

My uncharacteristic lack of rigorously regular daily posts can be directly attributed to my equally uncharacteristic busy week.

The fact that my desk now faces that of the Managing Director in work is undoubtedly also factor in my lack of updates but I have to say not the deciding factor in why I was not posting from my office chair. After my ‘enough’s enough’ sending out of the CV’s and letters last week my work load seems to have quadrupled, keeping me busy throughout the day (and till 6 o’clock on Thursday night). Don’t get me wrong, the work I’m doing is still that of a trained monkey and I still want to leave, but at least I don’t have much time to think about how insulting to my intelligence the tasks I’m given are.

Away from work was also I was also having a busy, but certainly more pleasant time in what was described by some as ‘gay’. On Thursday night David had arranged a night out with the boy’s, myself included. Nothing wrong with that I think you’ll agree, but apparently the fact that we were not going down to the pub or dancing and instead going for a meal together meant we were ‘Lady Boys’. In fact -Lady Boy’s who lunch. Despite the immature sniggers at our meal together it was a good night – everyone was a little disappointed that Sparkie and Jim didn’t make it but despite this we had a good laugh and were up the road before midnight like responsible adults. We were all working the next day after all…

My next ‘grown up’ social event was the Oxymoron that was ‘Gay Couples Night’. Nigel had planned this from the previous Saturday and on Thursday night I was pleased to hear that others thought the concept of a ‘couples night’ was a strange and middle age activity. In fact it was the naming of the gathering as ‘couple’s night’ which brought forth some kind of ominous pressure that we’d all have to be… ‘coupley’, it was not as if everyone who was going would not have went anyway. If I had been asked to drop my keys in a bowl, I would have been out of there faster that…um… well… I’d be fast is what I’m saying (I’ve never good with metaphors).

Despite my apprehension and Michelle’s worries that none the other girls (who she barley know thanks to my three year long exile from going out) would talk to her the night was great. We had the best time we’ve had in ages and any preconceived awkwardness faded away when we walked through the door.