The slightly different offices of the future

Tales of commuting woe are tedious, especially other people's. Suffice to say that I left home at 7:30 and arrived at the office in Hammersmith at 11:30 rather fancying a cup of tea. In that time I could have made it two thirds of the way to Toronto. Nice to see the white landscape though, and gangs of stumpy snowmen in London parks. The side streets still like ice rinks and at times I was grateful for some railings to cling onto, remembering how Mex broke her leg in just such circumstances.

Working with Betsy again. This time it is Multiple Sclerosis, which I don't know much about. Being with Betsy means working in an office right next to my old agency. Betsy's agency want me to work more regularly with them, which of course is good news in these recessionary times. Despite the fact I am itching to get on with Skelton Yawngrave stuff, only a churl or a buffoon would spurn money at a time like this. It does feel weird, and not particularly in a good way, though being so close to the old place.

Went to the OSP with Betsy and Anna where I bumped into Cliffy and Mike Ferg, so we all sat about together while we had some lunch. Mike full of cheeriness, which is always good to see given that he has been fighting cancer off and on for years now.

The journey home not anywhere near as soul sapping. And I was listening to the enjoyable The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry, which at times is almost Yeatsian in its language.

Home to a slightly resentful Calliope and some urgent admin. Got a call from Beth wanting to clarify a word I used in our interview. Lorraine safe and well, after driving around the county all day.

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