Leaving do

Here I am again on a Friday night, back on the complicated train journey to Horsham. This time to go to the leaving do of lovely ex-boss, one of my favourite ex-managers and one of my favourite team members (she used to do loads of stuff for me before I even asked, I love that in anyone).

And also here we are on Friday night already, this week has gone in the flash of an eye accompanied by a professional change of approach. No more nicey nicey, I am unleashing my inner cold, hard assassin. Just at work. Not with everyone, just the majority. (I say that now, I am not very good at it....)

And the man opposite me has just selected a new can of lager from his collection. Let the party begin*

• obviously not, he is a sweaty stranger drinking cheapo cans