Windows and windbaggery

Spoke to Anton on the train this morning, he was phoning from Spain to see if I was okay which was nice.

Had a new meeting with a client today. He spent over an hour and a half telling me and Hannah about all his achievements, and then stultifying us with screen after screen of flowcharts which had nothing to do with our discussion. Sometimes working for an agency is painful. Having to hang on this windbag's every assertion as if it was an insight of penetrating brilliance. We were sitting by lots of windows and over his shoulder was stormy lightning so at least I could gaze in his general direction with some sort of interest.

And how naive I was to imagine that you could simply install new windows if you want them. Turns out that because of the bijoux beauty of the Twitten it is (quite rightly) a conservation zone. This means you have to apply to Brighton council in case your choice of window offends the aesthetics of the area -- a process that can take months. So... I am having new tough glass placed into the old windows for the time being.

What offends my aesthetics, of course, is drug crazed maniacs breaking into my house and bleeding everywhere. Or those people who use the wall as a public toilet. If only they had to apply to the council too.

The massive silver lining to all this is that the belt tightening will not have to be anything like as severe. And the new glass will stop pesky opportunist thieves from breaking in again, and I can time the installation of the windows for when things are not so squeaky financially.

All well. Relaxing evening at home, eating fish and chips and revelling in the fact I have no work tomorrow.