A pitch and a post-pitch pint

Up at 5:30, which for me is unspeakable. A quick and bleary shower before bursting out of my house and almost trampling on an indignant gull in the twitten. The 6:09 from Brighton is a ghastly train, full of people sleeping. Reached work at 8:00 and then off in Rick's car to Uxbridge to do a pitch. Finally out of the clients office at noon after a major yapfest about fatal health events. I think we did okay, but the whole process is tiring and stressful and it was good to see the back of it.

The pitch team stopped off at a pub in a picturesque village called Denham, where I stole a moment to snap a photo of the beautiful house that the actor Sir John Mills lived in, according to the blue plaque.

An extremely nice meal of cottage pie and red cabbage, and a solitary but enjoyable pint of bitter outside in the sunny garden while being nudged hopefully by the pub dog, a black wiry-haired thing. It was a beautiful afternoon and we took a scenic route back to the agency through the green. The sun was pouring through the sunroof and after my post-pitch pint I felt decidedly sleepy.

Rather annoyingly, however, when we reached the office I had lots more to do. Then I spoke to Anton, who has made his last few purchases for the walk. I have to get mine sorted. Apparently it is going to be very hot judging by some of Anton's selections.

Home to Brighton listening to an audiobook about recent continental philosophy.

Below the Mills house in Denham.