under another sun

Tricky day with myself increasingly irritated. Keith ill but soldiering on with a hacking cough in an uncommunicative way, but still somehow producing the odd flash of creative gold in between non verbal bouts.  Lorraine working from home today because her school was interviewing head teachers and they get them to do stuff in situ. She didn't see me at my best today as I was grouchy. We did have half an hour at lunch to walk down to the Viaduct together and pick up her car, which was the most relaxing part of the day. She also bought us treats to eat and it was normalising to talk to her. Beth has covid. Lorraine spent Sunday afternoon with her. I just want to be able to get through this week if I can. Work culminated in a presentation, which did not go especially well. I was presenting and felt rather ambushed by the CD who decided to become suddenly challenging. I need a holiday. I am stale and not doing a particularly good job. All done a bit before six, and then I had to prep l...

Up for a meeting with Keith and to start a new job. Keith unwell, coughing and looking rough, but determined to push on. We have one week to work on a pitch, but the brief wasn't ready. When it came over lunch, naturally, it was weak and everyone defensive. However a former colleague called Christina exclaimed, 'Oh my God Peter Kenny,' when she saw me on-screen.   My spidey sense tingling during the meeting, and not in a good way. Keith functioning in flickers this afternoon. I already have a sinking feeling about this job. A few brief meanders around the block today, by way of walking. Also found out that JO Morgan was available for interview, so after work I spent some hours prepping for that. To bed tired. 

Happier today. Lorraine working from home first thing aided and abetted by Calliope. Betty popped in too for a quick chat first thing.  Otherwise Keith and I in Godot mode waiting for feedback that never came. Frankly I was just happy not to not be straining my bean, and catching up with things like doing laundry, gossiping with the owner of Choice Cuts, who had a wretched Christmas and new year in hospital. Also had a long conversation with the writer JO Morgan, while he was walking his dog. Flatteringly he could still remember my poem from the competition he judged ( Formication , which he chose as winner). We are plotting an interview. Spoke to Anton who had been to London to look at Egyptian things in the British Museum, and Mum who was making off to the Waggon and 'orses. Then the utter luxury of an afternoon nap, before another reading the runes sesh with Keith -- when promised afternoon feedback did not arrive. Messaged with the Tobster too, whose thoughts are turning t...