Day 11: I Have Been Really Quite Busy, All Things Considered

I am driving back from Highgate, having had an epiphany (as you do of a Thursday morning) and stop my Crap Car (TM) at the lights. A lorry driver pulls up behind me. I am frowning. He pulls a face and laughs. I laugh. He laughs. We are both laughing so much we get hooted by a man in a BMW (who is obviously a twat, as he drives a BMW).

I go the car park. Only £345 for 5 minutes. Where shall I park the car, I wonder, stopping on the ramp. Some men leap out. "We will park it FOR you!", they cry. OK, I say, wondering where, as every single square inch of the carpark is carpeted with car. Are they going to park it on top of the Ferrari that has just been left by a woman with diamond mobile phone? "Carwash? Inside out? £15?". For that yes, my friends, but beware the filth, it is Wrong.

1 x meeting with old boss, who raises his kind eyebrows at my suggested, er, career plan. 1 x meeting with much-loved ex-colleague. I admire his shorts. He tells me I look 4 years younger since leaving ex-employer. I fan myself with a leaflet about colonic irrigation; we wonder how we can work together. I buy some pants. Then I see a headhunter. He is nice. I explain that I am not looking for full time employment, but am aware that at some point I will need to earn some money. He nods. I stick my head under his fan. We drink water. He eats a mini Mars Bar. I do not.

I go back to the car park. I cannot see my car. They tell me to sit in a broken plastic chair, which I do. And then 3 men move 7 cars so they can get my car out. They have forgotten to wash it. I tell them they have broken my heart. I drive off. They stand in a line and blow me a kiss.

It is strangely hot. There is a party I must go to full of people I used to work with. It may be strange.