Okay, I know she’s not dead or anything, but it’s feeling like that.

U would think that people would get sick of starring at the same face eight hours a day, five days a week, but I, for one, could have never been sick of sitting opposite Amanda Mckinnon.

Amanda left, unexpectedly, on Wed the 23rd of May 2007 and I’m so sad about it. Now when I look over, it’s just an empty chair and the mouse pad which is covered in fake tan. And I feel so bad I didn’t get to say goodbye. But I know I will see her again.

She made me laugh almost every second of the day, when we were in after call, of course, and I hope I did the same for her. In fact, I know we made each other laugh because we were always getting pulled up for laughing too loud. Can’t have fun at work, you know - not even aloud to read a paper at ur desk on ur break!

A lot of people probably judged Amanda before they knew her, and probably never even bothered to get to know her, but I’m glad I did. She’s not a bitch. She’s a funny behatch! But she’s also smart, sweet and interesting. And she’d help you out if u were stuck. Although she still owes me a pound, but let’s just forget about that.

I could list loads of examples of our banter, but here’s just a few…

Amanda on the fone after a client said something not quite clear - “Pardon?” (in a French accent) and trying not to laugh while I took the piss.

Me on the fone after a client swore at me about not knowing anything about his ‘bloody’ policy - “Oh, u don’t know anything about the bloody policy!”

Me giving out the wrong info, then asking her what I should do. Of course, the client was already gone.

We sang songs together, the most random ones, including let’s get ready to rumble and baby baby…

Her constant habit of spilling her juice over herself and then me jumping up to get the paper towels shouting “I’m on it!”

My first day in her team, receiving an email, and not quite sure who it was for… “Smack my be hatch up…is this for me?”

Speaking of my first day, I will never forget how welcome she made me feel. She was the only one in the group who spoke to me for a while and made me feel comfortable and I’m very grateful for that.

She’s had a number of complaints about her clothes, but these have mostly come from people who don’t have the legs to carry of what she wears. But at least it includes pants…well, mostly.

There’s been countless more comedy moments, but I will leave that for memories between the two of us. And yeah, we me have made the odd bitchy comment about passers by, but if they are gonna dress /talk /walk /act or look like that, then they deserve it.

Amanda could tell a story that, which told by the wrong person, could be boring. But she made it funny. She was the kind of person I related to and bounced off. Even if I was peeling my skin or she was picking green string from her eye…but we won’t mention any STI’s here.

The day before she left I joked about it being our last lunch together. But it was. I never did get u to try tuna and chips! I will miss our romantic lunches.

I will miss Amanda loads and loads and loads. But I’m sure she will miss me more.

Oh, and Amanda, next time u c me, blow me another kiss. And this time…I promise to catch it.

Loooove yoooooou

Choose life, choose Leith, choose Gareth Evans, choose a disabled fan's carer running on to the park for a sly kick at Stuart Dougal, choose hookers down Coburg Street, choose Jimmy Boco, choose the smell wafting from the Seafield sewage works over the Links each morning, choose losing to a bunch of Lithuanian waiters in the Inter Tattie cup, choose entering the Inter tattie cup in the first place, choose Jocky Scott, choose dirty needles, choose having the worst derby record in the entire world, choose Alan Sneddon, choose making a big deal about being "the first to wear the green" like it actually matters, choose being one day away from being closed down by your biggest rivals, choose being 'classy' when half of your support is made up of chavs, choose singing songs about refugees and being racist, choose a tenner bag, choose David Fellinger, choose David Duff and Jim Gray, choose trying to kid people into believing that you've always played good football when the truth is that you've been absolutely shite for 30 years, choose going on and on and on about a game that occurred before most of you were even born, choose to ignore the fact that the biggest derby win is 10-2 to Hearts, choose the Loch Inn, choose Edward Hurtado, choose getting humped 5-1 by some Ukranian team whose name nobody can pronounce, choose hiring an open-top bus for a cup final against a diddy team and then proceeding to lose the match, choose losing 30,000 'fans' on the way home from said cup final, choose Benny Brazil, choose your derby rivals having won more derby matches at your ground than you have, choose to go on and on and on about once beating Real Madrid in a friendly match, choose Steve Cowan, choose running on the park for a sly kick at Andy Goram, choose Salamander Street, choose John Burridge, choose going 22 games in a row without beating your biggest rivals, choose making a big deal about a scoreboard that worked for a month, choose Alex Miller, choose incessantly going on about how some shady Russian is going to sell Tynecastle and shut Hearts down only to look on in horror as he invests heavily in the team, writes millions of pounds of debt off and split the Old-Firm and qualify for the Champions League, choose Joe Tortolano, choose Burberry caps, skiddy pants and shell-suits, choose flairdoo's instead of hairdoo's, choose thinking that "Sunshine on Leith" is not dreadful, choose running on the park for a sly kick at John Robertson, choose John Robertson scoring 27 goals against you, choose passing up the oppurtunity to sign John Robertson in the first place, choose Wayne Foster actually scoring a goal against you and putting you out of the cup into the bargain, choose Bobby Williamson, choose hiring a manager with a monkey head, choose worshipping and buying a decanter for a manager who only won one match, choose defending your club captain for urinating in a charity shop doorway after a team night out watching strippers, choose thinking that the term 'yam' is even slightly amusing in any way shape or form, choose Mickey Weir, choose the "famous" five combined scoring less goals than the terrible trio, choose Pirniefield in the morning, choose being the most ungracious losers this side of Christendom, choose the cow-shed, choose to steal other clubs songs and use them as your own, choose the poor excuse of a Hibees bounce which is clearly just the bouncey, choose going out of business when Celtic nicked all your players, choose running on to the pitch to celebrate your first derby win in 10 years only to be chased off again by the visiting support, choose living in the shadows of your neighbours for 131 years and forever knowing that you will always be the wee team, choose the Proclaimers, choosing banging on about winning the Skol Cup like at actually matters, choose John Leslie, choose being destroyed 4-0 in the biggest derby of all time after making a huge fuss about going to Hampden in the first place, choose half your support not

How annoying are other people?

Especially on the bus.

Idiots that have earphones in, but may as well have brought speakers on with them cause their shite music is so loud.

Then you've got the people that are sneezing, or coughing, which would be fine, if they weren't sitting right behind you, not covering their nose or mouth.

Then you've got the schemies at the back - can't understand much of what they are saying, but it must be something about being on their way to their job??

Then there's the mums with their kids, screaming or shouting or moaning, and not controlling them.

And, we've all been there when you're sitting on the bus and a casual aquentince comes on. And you look down, or out the window, or at your phone, anywhere, as long as they just keep on walking cause you've got nothing to say to them. You've only met them a couple of times through friends. But they sit next to you anyway and you have to make small talk the rest of the way, cause otherwise it would just be awkward.

Then there's the bus driver himself - who thinks he's out for a Sunday drive. And there's the classic change over of the drivers - that only takes half an hour until they've finished their wee chat like a couple of old woman.

And then there's the old women, and the smelly man... I could go on, but i'll stop now. In case you haven't realised I've had a bad couple of bus journeys today.

And if you are any of the above people - please just get a taxi and avoid the 33.