Plastic is Chic

I have fainted twice in twenty-seven years. Once when I came to conclusion my ankle was no longer attached to my lower leg which was no longer attached to my upper leg and realised it was rather painful. The second time was yesterday, only this time I have no idea why it happened.

I was on my way to work and while walking to Canary Wharf tube station I started to get hot, despite it being chilly at that time in the morning. I felt like I was about to throw up - something which I haven't done since I was twelve - and black spots appeared in front of my eyes.

I told myself it would be alright and headed for the ticket barriers. And then it all went black...

A few minutes - or at least I think it was a few minutes later - I open my eyes to find myself being surrounded by London Underground staff who informed me I fainted. Though I had hit my head on the floor, a man behind me had tried to stop me from falling and it probably helped break the fall slightly for which I thanked him.

I got taken to the staff room where a medic arrived to check me out. I was put in a taxi and was sent on my way to the hospital where I spent the next three hours under observation. I was finally allowed home and went straight to bed.

Strange...the doctors didn't find anything obvious and though I have been quite tired of late, my overall health has been fine. I hope it doesn't happen again.

Was greeted by the staff at Canary Wharf tube station this morning, they now all seem to know my name...at least that makes the journey slightly more pleasant.

Ilse

Help, I need a get out clause!

Everyone in my building ais invited to say goodbye to our resident Chippendale (see A different side to my colleague) at 4pm. There will be cake, something which despite my current lack of appetite I don't want to miss out on.

However, it means coming face to face with he who stripped off in front of me...unwanted!

I have managed to successfully avoid him in the last two weeks, but I feel now there is no way out.

I might have to hide behind a few of my bigger and more ample colleagues.

He is having a leaving do tonight but luckily I have Japanese tonight.

Phew!

Ilse

It's been a strange few days...

Apart from some personal stuff, perhaps the strangest thing that happened to me was nearly ending up under a car.

It wouldn't have been the first time. I ended up under a car when I was twelve and I was cycling home from school. I was about to cross the road to get onto our driveway where my mother was waiting for me when a car came screeching round the bend near our house and boom...I was lying in the middle of the street, my bike on top of me, not really realising what had just happened.

I ended up with a concussion, ten broken fingers and luckily nothing more than a few bruises and scrapes. I think my mother was more traumatised than me.

Anyway, the incident was slightly different in that this time I managed to stop myself from getting hurt

After a very emotional conversation with J that morning and a tiresome commute back to Southeast London, I couldn't wait to get to the safety and isolation of my own home where I could hide from the world for the rest of the day.

I was nearly there when the traffic lights in my street turned to red and I was forced to stop and delay my escape with just a few more minutes. I was standing there, avoiding people's gazes when this woman came to stand behind me. I had only just passed her the minute before. She looked incredibly dazed and lost.

When she was standing behind me, she was shouting at people passing by, for no reason. I moved away slightly but the pavement was crowded so there wasn't really anywhere for me to go. Cars kept driving past.

All of a sudden, I felt her putting both her hands on my back and giving me an incredibly hard push. I felt myself falling forward and nearly ended up under a car when I remembered I was holding my overnight bag. I threw it back and managed to stabilise myself. I just stood there shaken for a second, nodded at people who asked if I was alright, didn't even look where the women had gone to or even checked she was even still there, crossed the street and ran home, dodging all the tourists.

My back is sore from where she pushed me.

And to top it off, I have just been stung by a wasp which flew into my office and obviously had it in for me.

Great!

Ilse

Scene this afternoon in my office:

Colleague comes to our floor - currently only occupied by my manager and myself- after his lunchtime run. He removes his sweaty T-shirt and starts doing push-ups on our roof terrace. So far nothing different from what happens most days.

Then he comes into our office, grabs a little stool, sits himself down and takes of his running shorts. He sat there for a while in his tight lycras and then announced he was going to take a shower.

We both get on with our work, until we realise he was standing in our doorway, covering his bits with a towel. He started to move the towel. Okay, that made us laugh.

But then he just dropped the towel, put it out there for us to see and stood there for a while. My manager didn't know where to look while I hid behind the flipchart and my monitor, waiting for him to go.

When I thought the coast was clear, I saw him standing next to the watercooler, completely naked, bending over to fill his cup with water. I hope it was of the ice cold version as he def. needed some cooling down. I quickly averted my eyes and kept them firmly on my monitor for the next few minutes until we heard the shower door being locked.

My manager and I just sat there, not exactly sure about what had just happened.

It's his last day next week, I guess he wanted us to remember him for something else than his job title!

Ilse

One of my female housemates has a few strange habits, especially when it comes to food. She hardly eats and we are a bit worried about her.

I have only ever seen her eat two different meals, she will alternate between them during the week. Monday usually starts off with two grilled quorn sausages, boiled carrots and peas, two mini poppadums, four olives and a bit of ketchup. On Tuesday a boiled egg, a mini ciabatta, iceberg lettuce, cucumber and four olives get consumed. And then she goes back to the first meal.

These meals usually follow after three-hour sessions at the gym.

Her breakfast consists of a yoghurt and her lunch of a sandwich with some quorn thing and fruit. I have never seen her eat a snack or anything that contains more than 150 calories.

Our big fridge is full of nice food, mostly heatlhy but very tasty. Except for her shelf: lettuce, carrots, cucumber, skimmed milk and some eggs. Her cupboard contains a huge amount of sugar-free chewing gum, dried fruit and herbs. There is nothing there to make a meal with.

Once in a while, we go out for a bite to eat, although we don't do it very often as sitting next to someone who doesn't eat tends to make you feel guilty about actually appreciating yours. Last time, we went to a local restaurant to celebrate my birthday. The three of us tucked into our pizzas while she ordered a salad, minus the dressing and before she ate anything, she removed all the grilled vegetables and ate only a few lettuce leaves.

I know it is her body and she might feel comfortable at being that thin but we are all worried.

What I find incredibly bizarre though is that every night at ten she'll be in the living room watching an hour's worth of cooking programmes on UKTV Food, the home of double cream, chocolate cakes and roast dinners.

She also visits quite a few of the celebrity chefs' restaurants and gives them rave reviews, which baffles me even more. Why spend that much money on a meal when you'll leave most of it on your plate? Surely, that is more of an insult to the chef than anything else?

I just don't get it.