Oh yes I did. I mean, what could be better on a Friday to be the last one in the office at 6.30pm on the sunniest Friday since records began (probably)? I'll tell you what - doing two weeks worth of timesheets because if you don't things will get sticky on Monday. And not in a good way.
Well, that sounds pretty ace, but what could be better than that I hear you cry? Leaving the office, setting the alarm and then not being able to lock the door for no discernable reason and then standing in abject horror when the alarm blares out? That do you?
But wait. It gets even better than that. The only person I can call is my boss. The alarm is blaring. I am shaking (I do that when around loud noises I have seemingly no control over - see past blogs about The Sozzled Sausage), I call him. He's lovely about it and says he will come and sort it. It sounds like he's in the pub. So basically I've been completely shit and then had to drag my boss away from whatever fun he was having on a sunny Friday evening to come and rescue me.
So I leave and I'm nearly home when the boss man calls me: "The alarm has gone again..."
So I go back to the office, Waitrose bags full of trout and trifle sponge in my weary arms. He arrives and it turns out (much to my relief) it wasn't be ridiculous stupidity after all (I had naturally assumed that he would turn up and with one twisty flourish lock said door).
I slunk home.
And ate trout.
I might have a little weep now.