Friday 8th January 2016

Thursday

I woke at six and thought that I might like another few minutes in bed. At twenty to eight I jolted awake wondering how late it might be. Oh dearie me, I hoped I had no meeting at eight! Outside, there was no snow, which meant the short commute should be uneventful. I had to check out, then go for a quick breakfast: it was twenty past eight, and if I was lucky I would be in the office by half past, and after checking I see I had a meeting at nine till half ten, another meeting for an hour, then lunch then my training meeting during which I would send people to sleep using just the power of powerpoint. And that would take me all the way to five, at which time it would be time to drive to the hotel at the airport.

At breakfast I get a call: your flight in the morning has been cancelled; do you mind going via Manchester? Like I have a choice; well I do, either that or take the evening flight, which will not get me home until ten at the earliest. So, I choose to go via Manchester, which means the trip home will be an adventure, if nothing else, and give me something to write about.

Out on the ring road, traffic was crazy, but I dodge through it before turning back towards the office. I have time to speak to a couple of people before the meeting. Business meetings are the same, even if it is just one in our department; they become a talking shop, and go round and round and round and round in circles until we talk that to death and there is no time to discuss anything else. Wonderful. I hear rumours of an all day meeting later in the month. I shudder.

Another meeting, lunch, then find the room which I booked and wait for the previous meeting to vacate it. I have little planned, just a few powerpoint slides. But it lasts for two hours, we cover everything, and it seems the rest of the project learned something.

There is still talk of the snow storm, so I decide to leave early, at three, for the drive to the airport, missing the worse of the traffic and hopefully, the weather. I wish my colleagues well and dash to the car and get on the main road for the motorway before it jams up. It is busy, but the traffic keeps flowing, and I make it onto the motorway then head south into the brighter part of the sky showing where the setting sun was.

I arrive at the airport at quarter to five, I park the car, hand the keys in then decide to have an early dinner. And being the airport it means there is a very limited choice to eat: burger and fries. I have a medium beer, which is about perfect with the meal. Done, now to walk to the hotel, check in and get some work done.

Outside, it was bitterly cold, there was snow in the air, and although just below freezing, it felt ten degrees lower. It is just a few minutes walk, 5 at the most, but it felt longer. And once inside I was accosted by a golden retriever puppy that discovered my hands were tainted by burger juices. He licked my hands over and over again. I feel that is just what Jools would like us to have with the cats.

In my room I unpack the computer, get down to work, but I am soon diverted by a re-run of the Citeh v QPR game which won Citeh the title a few years back. It really was an incredible game, with their fans running the extreme of emotions before the equalising then winning goal in injury time. After that I found the Wigan v Gillingham game live on another channel. I had it on with the sound turned down as I finished my work.

Another day down, and tomorrow I go home.

Maybe