Ticking the box
Up at 6:30 and up to London for a day of filling in for First Matie while she is at her sister's wedding. Lorraine meanwhile sitting her final interview for her headteacher business in Kent first thing in the morning. Texts from her later, and a chat at lunchtime confirmed it had gone pretty well, although Lorraine is already beginning to remember things she should have said.
Up in London. Feelings of dejection revolving about the ratio of effort to results, and a conviction that the world is and always will be indifferent to anything I produce. This self-ingulgent gloom confirmed by The Argus not carrying a review of our concert, despite buying two copies, one for Matt, to read all about it.
Felt good to be back in the agency, if only to be among some pals. A Pooterish moment... I was sitting next to Julian who was designing a poster about killing ticks. I asked him if it was a 'tick boxing' exercise. He even had the good grace to laugh.
Journey home despicable and what with a train cancellation after 1 hour 45 mins I had made as far as Gatwick, about 16 miles from St Pancras. As I had plenty of time I calculated we'd been travelling at roughly 9 miles an hour. A distance which on a Japanese train would have taken you a little over five minutes. Door to door the journey took three hours. Luckily the door I arrived at, feeling very fed up, was that to The Basketmakers, where I downed a quick pint before heading off with Lorraine and Rosie to a restaurant called Giraffe for a vaguely Mexican feed, this much better.
Lorraine happy and relieved to have finished her interview. I was delighted for her.
Up at 6:30 and up to London for a day of filling in for First Matie while she is at her sister's wedding. Lorraine meanwhile sitting her final interview for her headteacher business in Kent first thing in the morning. Texts from her later, and a chat at lunchtime confirmed it had gone pretty well, although Lorraine is already beginning to remember things she should have said.
Up in London. Feelings of dejection revolving about the ratio of effort to results, and a conviction that the world is and always will be indifferent to anything I produce. This self-ingulgent gloom confirmed by The Argus not carrying a review of our concert, despite buying two copies, one for Matt, to read all about it.
Felt good to be back in the agency, if only to be among some pals. A Pooterish moment... I was sitting next to Julian who was designing a poster about killing ticks. I asked him if it was a 'tick boxing' exercise. He even had the good grace to laugh.
Journey home despicable and what with a train cancellation after 1 hour 45 mins I had made as far as Gatwick, about 16 miles from St Pancras. As I had plenty of time I calculated we'd been travelling at roughly 9 miles an hour. A distance which on a Japanese train would have taken you a little over five minutes. Door to door the journey took three hours. Luckily the door I arrived at, feeling very fed up, was that to The Basketmakers, where I downed a quick pint before heading off with Lorraine and Rosie to a restaurant called Giraffe for a vaguely Mexican feed, this much better.
Lorraine happy and relieved to have finished her interview. I was delighted for her.
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