What a day!

It's been chucking it down with rain so Mozzie has used this as an excuse to be late in - again. 9.30am! Now, I wouldn't mind if she stayed and made up the time, but she's supposed to be working 36 hours a week (like me) but she comes in between 9 and 9.30, and she used to leave on the dot of 4.30. Now, occasionally, she'll leave around 4.50. No way is that anywhere near 36 hours a week. Being generous I suppose she does about 32.5 hours a week but is paid for 36. I'd love to do 32.5 hours a week and be paid for 36 - that would be like an extra £35 a week in my pocket. I've mentioned this to my lovely line manager (who is about as much use as a fart in a collander, as my Dad used to say) who just babbled on and made no sense. Apparantly Kay has spoken to Mozzie about her time-keeping and there has been a little bit of improvement (as in leaving at 4.50 instead of 4.30) but it's still not 35 hours a week.

On top of Mozzie irritating me just by her very existence, the milk's gone off in the kitchen, so I'm on black coffee, and someone has left what I would normally call a 'floater' in the loo, except that it's not floating, it's blocked in the S-bend. Disgusting. I've put a very graphic notice up in the loo and I'm going to add another one saying that we are able to trace the culprit through DNA so they'd better bloody well clear it.

Honestly, turds and pubic hair and sour milk - what have I done to deserve this?

And another thing! I just had a call from one of my agencies to say that Skandia didn't want to interview me because they were looking for someone with financial services background. So nearly 4 years at HSBC doesn't count as financial services then? Go figure!

And it's only 11 o'clock. I've got clients tonight so I won't be home until 9 o'clock - it's going to be a very very long day ...