Tonight my fine colleagues and I are off for a pre-Christmas meal to celebrate a year in which we've all worked hard - and to have a bit of festive fun before the proper work Christmas do. First, though, I need to pop home as (excitingly) my early birthday present from K has been delivered to the office in the form of a Virgin V+ HD box. That's right, we're upgrading - and I'm excited enough about being able to finally go out on a Saturday night AND manage to see Match of the Day that I head home before the meal to plug it all in.
With unending faith in my own plugging-in-TV-equipment skills, I use the 20 minutes I have to clear out the old box, fanny around with some stupid wires that are wound around plastic Guitar Hero peripherals and get the new thing all plugged in. I don't, however, have time to see if it works - so I leave it switched on and head out of the door towards Crouch End.
I'm a bit worried that I've spent too long at home so I get a bit of sweat on motoring up to the restaurant. Inevitably I get there far too early - so sit alone watching the people go by and having a quick pint while the girls from my department wander up from work.
We all order slightly fancier drinks (I opt for the Don Draper-esque whisky and ginger) and chat merrily, being careful not to bitch too much about work. After dinner - I have the spectacular jerk chicken burger - we move up the road to the King's Head for another drink, after which we all say goodnight. It's nice to spend a bit more time with work folks, and in a setting away from the insanity of the bosses - that particular joy awaits on Friday night.
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