Nothing like a suicide first thing in the morning...

( Cut to avoid upsetting people. )

Any way, confirmed with [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] that she and Alan will be attending the Wodonga party. I'll have to call home either tonight or tomorrow to let mum know. And I'm going down the pub tonight with Phil and a couple of his friends from work (well, Dan's from his work, Sarah's his wife that I get on with well). Debauchery is planned, I believe.

I'll be glad to finish work today, I think. I'm sitting here trying to focus on work stuff, and instead I have To Do lists running through my head. Doesn't help that every five minutes I've got front counter enquiries or Pat's phone to answer and it breaks my already-poor concentration. XP

*FLOPS*

Okay, only did the one finding today, but that was the suicide I mentioned this morning and it turned into quite the complicated case. A bit of a daytime soap opera, really, complete with affairs, sleazy bosses, melodramatic suicide attempts and interfering family members. Maybe I should fictionalise it and have myself a V.C. Andrews-style novel.

But it's done and in the hands of the Coroner assigned to the case and I can sit back in the knowledge it's Friday and I have ten minutes to go. In fact, I might very well go now, since I have to go to the supermarket and pick up a couple of things on the way home, then call mum, then await the arrival of Phil and our excursion to the Elephant for beer and possibly dancing. Since I find getting drank and dancing remarkably stress-reducing and dammit, I've earned me stress relief this week.

Catch you on the flipside. And if you can't be good, make sure there's no pictures, as I heard someone say this week.

Oh, and GIP! New icon from [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com].