Four work Christmas parties down, one to go.
The bathroom at work was suddenly girly again as everyone rushes to whack on some slap before the final party. The luncheon today is a big posh do held in the City of London, with lots of ritual cheers and a toast to the Queen. The first year I went an old man came up to me at the end and told me “they’d decided I was the best top”. I still have no idea what that means but I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean best Top.
It’s properly cold in London now – last night I had to wear gloves for the first time, and temperatures are heading below 0C overnight.