I had a weird dream last night about trying to rescue a baby from an evil Capt Kathryn Janeway from Star Trek Voyager, who had hidden it in a labyrinth consisting of empty art gallery halls and a municipal swimming pool. To rescue the baby I had to collect crystals (like in the Crystal Maze) and avoid being shot by Capt Janeway with a very old and inefficient-looking bow and arrow.
I assume the crystals must have come from looking at the light fitting (like this but square) in Haz yesterday lunch time, but the rest of it? Lawdy knows.
So tomorrow it's the company presentation which this year they are having again in Ipswich. I will have to get up at 5.30am tomorrow, get the 6.30 train to be able to get the 8.15 from Liverpool Street. This is seriously ungood. Oh, and then I get to stay there overnight for a team recognition event with my old team, in the out-of-town Travelodge, and then get the 11am train on Saturday (*in my own time*) and not get home until after lunch! Hurrah! Oh, we we're going to dinner at Mr Wings (or Mr Wing Wangs and a new colleague has christened it) which will be whoop whoop delicious I'm sure. Good grief.
It's OK, next week I'm on holiday, so, in the words of Catherine Tate, bovvered.
Loo watch: Two bottles of mouthwash, a propelling pencil, a dirty mug, a pad of large post-it notes and a feint smell of saddle soap.