Saturday 12th December 2015

Friday

I woke up at six when my alarm went off, tired to my bones. By the end of next week I will have done 33 business trips this year, and the novelty wore off some time ago. Some of that tiredness comes from three nights of celebrating with friends and colleagues of course, which is my own fault, but then I am so looking forward to the end of the 21st when my working year will be over. But before then, I have to get home, have a weekend off then haul my ass over to Lubeck for two days for another meeting. It does the opportunity to get some marzipan cake for Christmas of course, and Germany in festive week is never going to anything less than wonderful.

I get up, shower, pack and get dressed before going down for breakfast. I have two rolls as I so hungry from that lack of dinner the night before, but I think I will survive. Outside the sky has cleared and with the New Moon due about this day, the sky is jet black and the stars shine out brightly. Over on the pan, jet engines were starting up as the first flights of the day are made ready.

I check my bags in, get through security, and find in the lounge there are very few people about. I catch up on mails, make some calls and I am done. I just want to get on the plane and snooze. I look round the duty free shop as well as the Lego Store, but nothing catches my eyes, really. And anyway, we really want to book up our holiday in the next couple of weeks, so I resist the urge, and wander down to the gate and get ready to board.

Once I am on the plane, I do close my eyes, and by my reckoning, I have just over an hour of sleep, which coming after the eight hours that night means I am well rested.

With a strong headwind all the way over, the flight takes over two hours, meaning I miss the early train by quite some distance, but at Stratfod there is just enough time for me to get through a gingerbread latte and a sausage roll. Yeah, that's better. Down on the platform, I have a 5 minute wait before the train pulls in, and I get a seat facing the direction of travel, next to the luggage rack so I can keep an eye on my beer stash in the case. Outside we rattle through the tunnel under east London then across Essex and under the Thames before entering Kent, and then hammering under the North Downs to Ashford.

The bright morning had given over to clouds, but hey, I'm nearly home, and I'm not complaining. The taxi is waiting outside the station, the driver quizes me about my week, e seems really interested, which is fine I suppose.

Inside there is an air of indifference from the cats, but soon Molly comes to say Hi, or meow and to inquire if I would mind filling up the food bowl. I have some final work tasks to complete, so fire off some mails, field a couple of phone calls. And I am spent, really shattered. And at three I decide the weekend has begun, so I take to the sofa with Molly to watch Sunday's football.

I prepare chorizo hash, so it is half done when Jools comes home. It is good to be home, even if I am cooking, but Jools washes up, which means I can have a shower, then we can spend the evening on the sofa watching The Bridge. And by the time we're done at twenty past ten, we have two more episodes left for Saturday.