Bridget day

Just for the hell of it; a Bridget Jones tribute post.

Cups of tea: 10, Cigarettes: 0 (not surprising as gave up ten years ago), Calories consumed from healthy recommended food: 1000, Calories consumed from forbidden slot machine food in staff canteen: 300 (but only a Penguin so better than yesterday), Times mentioned new official occupation of 'Artist': One, Times studied new proofs of cards to be published: 5, all before breakfast, Work related injury: 1, Time off for recovery from work related injury: 0.

Feeling jolly today and convinced of total immunity from cash-job related blues. Didn't count on cash-job colleagues in rotten hangover-induced and probably family tradgedy related depression; spent morning talking to self and smiling hopefully at strangers. Work related injury occurred when tidying desk area in attempt to a) impress passing manager and b) improve work related mood of blueness and boredom. Pulled bag from behind sliding panel which shot out, hitting top of nose. Swore a little and hid behing desk for a while prompting strange looks from customers and passing manager alike.

Passed the afternoon dreaming up angel scenarios and doodling on pieces of paper, thinking of opportunities to show off new card proofs and slip 'artist' status into casual conversation. Managed only once when talking to an old customer from previous job who may be borderline stalker and is definately quite mad. Kept talking about Ingrid Bergman and Isabella Rossellini in faintly suggestive way, while I tried to impress with my news on the publication front. "Watercolours?" was all he wanted to know; what is it with old people and watercolours?

Spent some jollier time in conversation with slightly superior work colleague debating futility of current 'conceptual' art revolving around arrangement of mundane objects in order of size. Laughed at futility of this pretention before admitting know very little about aims and meaning of said art. Colleague suggested a series of ideas involving L.S.D., painted bodies and darkness and/or empty paper clad rooms. Culminated with discussion of painted snails in a long gallery room with David Hasslehoff in total darkness, filmed in infra-red for four hours. Think we may have something here. Off to look at proofs of cards again and finish value box of Feast choc ices.