I actually quite like my job.

I mean, if I ever hit it lucky in the Euromillions draw, I'd be out of there like a shot, don't get me wrong - but while I still need a living wage and all that, it's more than bearable.

That doesn't really sound like I'm talking it up, I realise. But my company treats us pretty well. A decent amount of annual leave, a competitive salary (I sound like a job advert, don't I?). We have flexible hours. We don't have too much pressure piled upon us. I mostly don't take my work, or thoughts of my work, home with me.

I really can't complain.

"Abby, do you have a minute?" My teammate Sophie trundles her office chair over to my desk. It's probably about the wedding. It's always about the wedding. She's been talking about it non-stop for months. She's not quite tipped into Bridezilla territory yet, but I believe she's veered pretty close at some points. The big day is only two weeks away now, so I'll be glad when it's over.

I'm not really a massive fan of weddings. Well, actually, that's not strictly true. I like the ceremony part; I like the love. Like Katherine Heigl's character in 27 Dresses, I like to watch the groom watching the bride walk up the aisle. Watch the delight on his face.

Wonder if I'll ever have someone look at me like that.

I usually have a bit of a cry at that point. Luckily, at weddings, you can usually get away with that sort of behaviour.

It tends to go downhill after that for me.

Being I'm forced to stand around for what seems like hours, waiting for the meal. Where I'm usually seated with a bunch of strangers and required to make inane small talk. And it always feels like every other wedding guest is already in possession of a Happy Ever After.

Of course, the weddings in my life almost always inevitably coincide with me being single.

I'd actually been looking forward to Sophie's wedding because, for once, I was in a happy couple. It would be so much better with Declan by my side, an altogether different experience.

Sadly, when I had finally received the pretty cream and gold invite, I didn't have a plus one. Apologetically, Sophie had explained she would have included our partners if she could; but of course we all understood the limitations of a wedding budget, and realised it was actually an honour to even be asked at all. This was all fair enough - and as Sophie knew Declan from his brief temping stint, she'd issued him with an evening guest invite. As it turned out, he couldn't make it anyway. Which I guess is something to be relieved about.

"Of course! What's up?" I ask Sophie now.

She has her sympathetic face on, big brown eyes emoting away at me. Soph claims she's an empath, and that she has been very much affected by my misery over the past few weeks. Talk about making a person feel guilty! "It's about my wedding." She winces as she says that. As if she fears even the very mention of that word will cause me to fall apart.

"Okay . . ." She's left the silence trailing for far too long now. Warning bells are chiming in my head. Is she going to uninvite me? That would be so awkward!

She scoots her chair closer to me, lowers her voice. "There's been a bit of drama in George's family." George is her other half. "A bunch of his friends double-booked themselves, despite the Save-the-Date and the invite, and have decided partying in Shagaluf takes priority over seeing us tie the knot." She rolls her eyes. "Arseholes."

I consider briefly just how amazing a holiday abroad would be right now. Even a mental all-clubbing, all-shagging holiday in Majorca. Then I realise Sophie is yet to get to her point, and I should probably look like I'm concentrating. I throw in what I hope looks like a wise nod, for good measure.

"Anyway..." She finally reaches it. "The upshot is you can have a plus one if you want! I know you're not with anyone right now, but if you want to bring a friend or even a family member, you can! Just someone for . . . Support."

Jesus, she's laying it on thick. Sophie is a lovely girl, but right now she's treating me like some sort of charity case! It's quite embarrassing.

"Everyone from the team has a plus one now," she adds hastily. With those aforementioned "empath skills", I guess she's probably intuited that I don't particularly care to be part of the Sad Dumped Girl Outreach Project today. "It's not just you!"

"Cool, thanks Soph - I'll see if I can find someone," I nod. Trying to seem grateful. I suppose I actually should be thankful. I can hopefully convince Lou or Kim to join me. They're always up for a free meal and a couple of complimentary drinks, even at relatively short notice.

"If you could just let me know within the next day or two who you're bringing, that would be great. I'm going to spend the weekend rejigging the table plan and sorting out new place cards." Sophie has pretty much arranged this whole wedding single-handedly, including making her own invites - to be honest, I can't actually really blame her for being stressed!

"Will do." I nod, and turn back to my laptop. And immediately sigh as I see the new email sitting there from Carrie.

In general I get on well with all of my colleagues. Apart from this one.

Carrie has only been at the company for eight months. . . but she's also been trying her best to actively make me look bad for most of that time.

She's young, ambitious, and very bitchy. I'm fairly sure she's lied about her previous experience, and it's all very much "fake it 'til you make it" with her . . . But she's admittedly great at bluffing, and inventing mistakes out of thin air, so she can point the finger of blame at other people.

I scan the contents of the email. My blood boils.

Hey Abby

Hope you're good! ;-)

Just spotted you hadn't updated the team calendar with the deadlines for the event in October, so I went ahead and did it for you! Hope you don't mind; I just thought it would be good if everyone had visibility of the dates so there's no delays!

Cheers!

Carrie

Is she fucking kidding me with this?

I only sent an email to the team confirming the dates for this particular event five minutes ago! Just before Sophie came over to speak to me, in fact. My very next task was going to be to add them to the calendar.

So let's break down what's actually just happened in the past five minutes.

1) Carrie has immediately read my email, checked the calendar, realised that Sophie is currently distracting me, and taken it upon herself to add the dates.

2) She has then replied to my email to point this out, in an attempt to make me look unorganised. Claiming that her "favour" is for the good of the team . . . Although the team already have visibility of the dates, from the email they all just received from me.

3) Oh, and she's copied our manager in for good measure.

This is Classic Carrie. She acts like she's being helpful, while she's actually trying to dig the knife in. Luckily, most people see her for what she is; but unfortunately she's also pretty efficient at her job, and it's hard to prove she's not in it for the greater good because of the sneaky way she goes about things. So we all have to put up with her.

My manager, Sara, sits opposite me. She meets my gaze, which I'm pretty sure is burning with rage. With the tiniest of shakes of her head, she rolls her eyes at me, mouthing "ignore her".

It doesn't make me any less angry though. And I'm mostly annoyed at myself!

Rookie error, Abigail. Knowing what Carrie is like, I should have made sure to update the calendar before sending the email. This is the problem though; I constantly have to try to be ten steps ahead of her, or she catches me out. It's an exhausting way to have to work. I miss the pre-Carrie days so much sometimes!

It's a nice pick-me-up though to realise it's four o'clock, and I can finally head home. The Chase and the pub quiz beckon. I wonder nervously what Ric's friends will be like. I also wonder what he might have potentially told them about me.

Before I power my laptop down though, I can't resist clicking "reply all" on her evil little email.

Thanks so much Carrie! That was next on the agenda for me, so cheers for taking the pressure off my workload just a tad. ;-)

A wee dig about how I'm far busier than her seemed necessary. After all, if she did have more work to do, then she wouldn't have so much time to try to land other folk in it!

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her frustratedly toss her excessive amount of dark blonde hair extensions around as she reads my response, and I allow a smirk to curl my lips.

Carrie might have thought she won that battle. But I'm determined to win the war . . . Even if I end up a stressed-out bag of nerves in the process!

Have you ever had a "Carrie"?