A great way to feel appreciated at work.

Quit your job.

For the past few months I have been working on a temporary contract, covering someones maternity leave, at a big publishing/events company. Despite the fact that they wanted to keep me when my contract ended, I had already been offered another job somewhere else. So I told them thanks, but no thanks and got ready to leave. Last Wednesday (my second last day) my manager was having one-on-one catch ups with everyone from the team, I didn't really know why she wanted to see me but I went to have a meeting with her. We had a chat where she said some lovely things but also admitted that she didn't really want to give a speech (when someone leaves usually everyone gathers around their desk to present them with gifts and cards, and people do speeches) the next day. I told her I was more than OK with this as I think, after only being there for about 5 minutes, it would be completely unnecessary to do a speech. What would they say? Thanks for letting us train you, now see you later!

So you can imagine my surprise when, on my last day, as I was helping to train my replacement, the office all rocked up around my desk to say goodbye. I was completely caught off-guard! After my manager did her speech (cheeky lady telling me she didn't want to do one!) they asked me to make a speech myself, something I usually enjoy doing but honestly I wasn't expecting to have to say anything at all so I made a very poor attempt.

It was very nice to hear, and read, such kind words from my colleagues and made me feel very much appreciated in the workplace. The company does recognise people through their, 'Star of the Month' programme but in general it can feel that our hard work goes unnoticed by the wider workplace.

Therefore I would like to mention what I appreciate in return (in no particular order); the friends I made, everything I learnt, lunches whilst lying in the sun at the park across the road, being yelled at by the landlady of the pub down the road, the wine, the free food from the cafe on a Friday afternoon, the day that I spent wearing a pink wig and having my photo taken, the business trips that allowed me to see more of England, the many cups of tea made for me by the boys, the baking by various people throughout the office, the laughter, the wine, the unhealthy snacks, the Thai lunches, the Italian lunches, the goodbye emails and cards and....

I will even appreciate the picture they had laminated, of me having fallen asleep. Thanks guys! Miss you already!

I will now let the pictures do the talking.

All ready at Dublin airport. 

 Standard northern hemisphere festival attire.

 Kesha eat your heart out!

 These guys were so jealous of his thighs!

 Raving outdoors on a rainy Friday afternoon.

 Showing the mud splashed all over us.

 Looking like little kids, so excited about the ride!

 So many things wrong with this picture!

 Best seat in the house to watch the Arctic Monkeys.

 Cheers pikeys for doing this to our rental car!

 The leprechaun museum in Dublin!

 We actually got lost in this room.

 Massive furniture is so much fun!

We all got our leprechaun artwork hung on the walls, so proud!

The end of a big weekend!

I'm sure I've said this before....

''I'm too old for this! I'm never camping at a festival again! This is disgusting!''

These were some of the first words put of my mouth when I arrived at the Oxegen festival, just outside Dublin early in the morning last Friday.

The campground looked like a bomb site/rubbish tip, the way I'm used to seeing it at the end of the festival, on the last day. However the festival had not even started yet! People were being kicked out for overdosing, vomiting, fighting, being generally disgusting - and not a single musical act had played! I was, honestly, shocked and appalled. I was surrounded by underage drunken fools and I didn't like it.

Fast forward a few hours, after we had cleared rubbish away to find somewhere to set up our tents (in the rain, of course!), got settled and started drinking. As soon as I heard some music my tune changed;

''I love festivals! I love live music! This is so worth it!''

Ok, I'll admit it, I'm fickle.

Let's be honest, there are many aspects of festivals that I don't love - the carrying heaps of crap over long distances, the disgusting toilets, the ridiculous prices, the drunk underage people, the sleeping on the ground, the lack of showers, the way it gets freezing at night and boiling hot in the morning, sunburn, mud and rain.

However, it all becomes worth it when you think about how much fun a festival is! For one lump sum you have over 100 bands at your disposal, obviously you can't see them all but you can see a lot in short space of time. It's a mix of music styles and different acts; festivals are designed to have something for everyone. For me, live music is always amazing. I love being impressed by acts I wasn't fussed about. I love discovering new acts to get obsessed about. I love seeing old favourites for the 4th time and still thinking they're amazing. I love seeing acts, that people think don't suit a festival, absolutely killing it. I love dancing. I love listening. I love it all.

Maybe I am getting too old, perhaps I'll start buying day tickets and sleeping in a bed and breakfast down the road where there will be a proper bed, a  flushing toilet and a warm shower. You really appreciate such luxuries after sleeping on the hard ground, weeing on strangers poo and vomit and using countless wet wipes in lieu of a shower!

Who knows?

What I do know is that I had a great time! Bring on the Outlook festival in Croatia in September!

My weekend in Bristol. In very short sentences.

Roxanne and I.

Saturday morning. Last call for bus to Bristol. Chatting. Painting nails. Reading books. Listening to music. Sleeping.

St Paul's Carnival. Afrikan Carribbean Folklore. Music. Feathers, beads, sparkles. Dancing. Fried plantains. Curried goat. Jerk Chicken.

Two year old's party. Bouncy castle. Wine. Babies. Toddlers. Kids. Food. Food. Food. Sunny afternoon. Mount Gay Rum. Birthday cake. More food.

Driving to the hostel. Check-in. No locks. No bags. More wine. Chilling. Chatting. Food and wine. Fake tan and heels.

Heading out. The triangle. Wetherspoons, jagerbombs, vodka. More places that I can't remember the names. Southern Comfort. Bucks party. Men dressed as maids. Dancing. Injuries.

Cover charge. ''But I came all the way from Australia!'' Free entry. Beer and cider. Good music. Mashed people. Brothers strawberry cider. Photos. Jockeys. Brothers strawberry cider! Escaping.

Taxi rejection. Sitting on the kerb. Random cars with hot seats. Bums and bum sex. Non-drunken phone calls to Thailand. Lift round the corner. Taxi to the wrong place. Stingiest driver. Taxi to the right place.  Bailing. ''Eff you lady parts!'' Bedtime. SNORING! Topless Roxy laying down the law. Pass out.

Too early! Wake-up call. Permission to lie-in. Toothbrush in your clutch comes in handy. Check-out. Waiting foreverrrrr for a taxi in pajamas. Hot and sunny!

Morning cuddles and playtime with toddlers and babies. Head to the city. The famous, 'Hole in The Wall'. Pub lunch. Roast dinner platter; beef, pork and turkey! Shops.

Chilling at Nanna's. Napping on the couch. Goodbyes, Sloppy kisses, lots of waving and giggles.

Car. Coach. Tube. Bus. Home. Bed.

Bristol and it's finest at about 3.30am

Me, Roxy and Shaya sitting in the hole in the wall.