Goodbye to Cylons
So last day, up and working on the train this morning to complete the work I was supposed to deliver at 11. Finished job with five minutes to spare, presented it, luckily to some acclaim, so I was officially big and clever for a bit and the frenzy of the last 24 hours had been worth it. The treacherous work computer worked without fault today too, before it was taken away to be examined. Hopefully with a sledgehammer.
Lunch with Mark Dawson, an old copywriter pal from my days working in Glamoursmith. Went to a bar in an unpromising-looking hotel, which seemed faintly seedy. In other words, a great choice. We each had a pint of lager shandy, and a bite to eat. Not like the advertising lunches of yesteryear. He told me his girlfriend had invited him to Kings Lynne, but he had refused on the grounds it was too flat. He seemed in good spirits however, and I've always liked Mark.
Yippee, work done and off for four days. Tubes doomed, however, and it took almost an hour to get to Victoria. Cabbed it home from Brighton as it was raining. Home to a very happy wife, as the term finished today.
To celebrate we watched the last of Battlestar Galactica. It really is the best SF series in my opinion. Lorraine and I discussing the meanings of the end. Now what? The real world? Shudders.
Changing trains at Hassocks, the sky full of rain.
Lunch with Mark Dawson, an old copywriter pal from my days working in Glamoursmith. Went to a bar in an unpromising-looking hotel, which seemed faintly seedy. In other words, a great choice. We each had a pint of lager shandy, and a bite to eat. Not like the advertising lunches of yesteryear. He told me his girlfriend had invited him to Kings Lynne, but he had refused on the grounds it was too flat. He seemed in good spirits however, and I've always liked Mark.
Yippee, work done and off for four days. Tubes doomed, however, and it took almost an hour to get to Victoria. Cabbed it home from Brighton as it was raining. Home to a very happy wife, as the term finished today.
To celebrate we watched the last of Battlestar Galactica. It really is the best SF series in my opinion. Lorraine and I discussing the meanings of the end. Now what? The real world? Shudders.
Changing trains at Hassocks, the sky full of rain.
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