Face like a wet weekend
Lorraine and I spent Saturday spent in Zombie mode, recovering from what had been a despicable week at work. I had a nice chat with Mum, pottered about a bit, but had no gas in the tank. I wanted to go for a walk, but there were gales and heavy rain all day, apart from when I got up early to buy bread and take Lorraine and I breakfast in bed and read the Guardian on the phone as the rain started to fall.
Worked all day Sunday. Took Lorraine breakfast in bed, then disappeared. For me this job has turned into an endurance test. I am going to take a break after it for sanity reasons. But as a last job and my patience is in the red zone. Especially the 2.5 hour meetings that stretch into every evening with an unwieldy transatlantic team. Mystifying why squandering dozens of people's time this way is thought good. Right now I feel like I am serving a jail sentence, and haven't wished the days away like this since I was in Chad. Our ideas, of course, are liked. The New York people want to present eight concepts (an obvious mistake) but three of them will be ours, and given there are at least six other teams working on this, we've done well. I just want it to stop.
Actually had a lunch break of Sunday, and Lorraine and I went for a quick walk around the park. We left in sunglasses, and five minutes later were being rained on heavily. Lorraine spent much of the day in Star Dew Valley. Beth popped in briefly to change into her First Aid tutor clothes. She does so many jobs, and they all require different branded teeshirts or sweatshirts.
Managed to write back to Jo Morgan, who has agreed to come onto our podcast. Watched telly. Went to bed with a face like a wet weekend. Gah.