9.45 a.m. I am busy multi-tasking at work.
This consists of shuffling some papers around my desk for no reason, other than to give the impression I am doing something productive and daydreaming. The hunk in last night’s film that Shaz and I watched left us both speechless. We have never been glued to action scenes like we were last night.
Martin, who sits opposite me in the office, has just emailed me a meeting request. He catches my eye and grins, revealing his yellow crooked teeth. I sense something is wrong.
He picks up the phone to call his mother.
9.46 a.m. As Martin has a loud voice and insists on taking personal calls at his desk, the entire office is treated to an update on his mother’s health.
He only left home (he still lives with his mother) two hours ago but obviously feels the need to check whether there has been a change in her bowel movements.
Sadly there hasn’t been any change so he suggests she makes a start on the bumper sized packet of prunes in the food cupboard and takes a warm bath.
9. 52 a.m. Check daily horoscope from my favourite astrologer – Mystic Clive. This is a daily ritual which can make or break my day.
If Mystic Clive says that the day is going to be dire I do take action; I pop some tissues in my bag along with a bar of chocolate and some headache tablets.
If Mystic Clive says that the day is going to be good I make sure I have a nice bright lipstick on my lips and in my bag a bar of chocolate and some headache tablets.
Apparently as a Gemini I can expect some exciting news today.
The only news I have had so far is that my bank account is overdrawn and that wasn’t exciting.
Pull a disappointed face at Mystic Clive’s photo on my phone screen.
10.00 a.m. Enter meeting room with Martin and Marcus, the Senior Manager.
I have no idea what the meeting is about.
10.02 a.m. Try to avoid looking Marcus in the eye.
The office Christmas Party and our unexpected kiss over the photocopying machine is still on my mind. We have never spoken about what happened.
I can’t help but sneak a glance at him.
It got quite passionate between Marcus and I.
At one point I was sat on top of the photocopying machine kissing him like crazy. He had warm soft lips and a firm embrace.
Then I accidentally pressed something on the photocopying machine control panel. To my horror the machine leapt into action and started photocopying my denim jean clad bottom. Neither Marcus or I could work out how to stop it in our drunken state.
Our kiss resulted in:
A 100 double copies, with staples, of my denim jean clad bottom.
A puzzled looking office junior, who, the following day had to sift through all the photocopies.
Me embarking on a drastic food diet, as my denim jean clad bottom photocopy highlighted a few pressing body shape issues.
10.04 a.m. Martin has been promoted and is now my new line manager. I feel sick.
Consider tweeting Mystic Clive to tell him that his Gemini horoscope for today is rubbish.
10.06 a.m. Martin is looking forward to managing his new member of staff.
Catch Marcus staring at me. For an older man, late 40s, he knows how to set female hearts racing with his sculptured hair, sharp pin stripe suit and his exotic aftershave.
Maybe today is not all bad. I wonder if he wants any photocopying doing?
10.07 a.m. Return to desk after telling Martin that I am far too busy for a ‘catch up’ and check phone.
Text from Matilda, my teenage daughter, asking whether she can have a party at our house.
I text back ‘NO!’
She replies with ‘I hate you!’ plus angry face emoji.
Followed quickly by
‘Louise’s parents let her have parties all the time. Wish they were my parents!’ – another angry face emoji.
11.15 a.m. Tweet Mystic Clive and tell him that his Gemini horoscope was wrong. There has been no exciting news and I am an #unhappyGemini.
My tweet receives a lot of re tweets. I have never been this popular on Twitter.
Tell Martin I am still busy.
1.37 p.m. Twitter on fire. It seems Mystic Clive made a mistake and there are many #unhappyGemini ‘s out there.
Pull a satisfied face at Mystic Clive on phone screen and tell Martin I am ‘flat out’ with work.
7. 25 p.m. The boys are at a Superhero sleepover party at their friend’s house.
Matilda is busy uploading her latest YouTube video titled ‘please adopt me’. It’s about how she has an evil mother and how she wants to be adopted by someone else’s parents.
Its time for me to now enjoy myself.
This is how I like to roll on a Friday evening:
Dress in track suit bottoms and old t-shirt.
Apply a thick coating of a new face mask. On the bottle its promising youthful and radiant looking skin. Need all the help I can get at my age.
Pop a slice of cucumber on each eye.
Lie back on sofa, whilst sipping a cheap Sauvignon Blanc, through a straw as don’t want to disturb face mask.
Listen to loud but soothing whale music.
7.28 p.m Knock at front door. Groan and stagger to the door clutching bits of cucumber and glass of wine with straw. Whale music still blaring out.
Unlock door and gasp at how tight the face mask feels on my face.
7.29 p.m. Open door and yelp, which causes face mask to crack.
There on my doorstep is my cousin Maggie’s jilted fiancé, Vince, his father John, Maggie’s father Uncle Bob and Great Aunt Vera in a wheel chair.
Everyone apart from Great Aunt Vera grimaces at the sight of me and the loud whaling sounds coming from my living room.
Great Aunt Vera points at my wine glass with her walking stick and shakes her head in disapproval.
7.45 p.m. Everyone is squeezed into my lounge. I have given everyone a drink; a soft drink for the two fathers, a bottle of beer for Vince and a large glass of Sherry for Great Aunt Vera.
Uncle Bob announces that the family want me to go to Greece and persuade Maggie to come home. Vince, the fiancé she jilted a fortnight ago, is devastated and has failed to talk her round. According to the family I am the only one who Maggie will listen to
7.47 p.m. Sat with mouth open in shock at the news. Uncle Bob has even offered to pay for my flight and travel expenses.
“You are not to spend Uncle Bob’s money on booze Roxy!” croaks Great Aunt Vera from her wheelchair, before draining her glass of Sherry and asking for a ‘top up’.
8.05 p.m. Beg Shaz via text to look after my kids whilst I am in Greece. She strikes a hard bargain. Send her Derek’s (my failed first date) mobile number.
8.45 p.m. Send Mystic Clive a heartfelt tweet about how his Gemini horoscope was right in the end and apologise for any misunderstanding (40 re-tweets) earlier with my other tweet.