A terrible night's sleep. Mind churning irritably over work, and vaguely painful guts that were niggling at me.
Up early, and Keith and I at last fell into synch at 8:30 and then worked fairly solidly till a presentation at six with another creative team to folks in the US. Had to turn away German demanding turnaround in a couple of hours this morning to a brand new job. I said no way. They found another solution, apparently. So at the end of the day guys in the US were extremely complimentary, but we both thought they were liking the US team's work better. I felt I was presenting work I wasn't entirely happy with, which is a feeling I hate.
After work, spoke to Anton who had come around to play the best game in the world, that I wouldn't understand because it is too complex for the likes of me etc. etc. Twilight Struggle with Sam. They happily re-enacted the cold war over a board, playing things like the Nasser card, and chatting about defcon levels. Lorraine got lost into her Nintendo Switch. I read PN Review the poetry magazine. As suspected, Sam already turning into a good Twilight Struggle player. After the cold war happily rerun, with the Easter bloc coming out of it well apparently, Anton made off into the night. I slunk up to bed to join Lorraine who had already melted away.
Backdrop of outrage against Boris Johnson going on, after his parties while people were dying and told to keep apart in 2020. He is a greased pig and I don't think his days are done yet.