Have just stumbled in after having had a whale of a time at our annual office Christmas party. Drank loads of pink champagne because a) it was free and b) you can't get hung over from champagne...or so they say. Didn't interact much with anyone from work, least of all that wanker Jobsworth (who wore a f*cking red blazer to a black tie party!), but had brought my own posse of three lovely gay men of my acquaintance (1 Dutch, 1 West Indian, and 1 Brazilian). Spent the evening drinking, eating (there was a brilliant buffet), dancing and apraising the waiters and the sartorial choices my co-workers had made. Was still pleased about my own outfit of frilly black skirt and red wrap-around top à la Sharon Stone at the Oscars, even after I'd come to suspect that they must have had those flattering kind of mirrors in the fitting rooms when I'd tried it on in the shop yesterday. Must now stumble out of said outfit and into bed...Night night!