Thursday 18th August 2016

I awake at ten to six, but dedie to lay in bed a while. I re-awake at half seven, half an hour after I should have been at work.

Oh well.

Outside, cloud has covered the sky, and a breeze is blowing. But it feels warm enough when I open the room window. I get dressed and go down for breakfast; just a snack, and so am at the office just after eight, not too late. And anyway, as manager, I only have myself to answer to.

Components arrive through the day, then there is a database to update, mails to answer, calls to make. In short all the usual things that make a project tick.

The morning passes, there are more unwanted rolls on offer from meetings. I want them, filling them with cheese and quaffing more horrible coffee from the vending machines. The sun shines a little, the turbines out in the yard look magnificent.

I get news that my flight home is cancelled, but this means I will have to return via Heathrow once again. Not the worst thing in the world, but adding two to three hours to my day, and instead of being home at midday it would now be gone four. A full day of travel again. Anyway, I get my e ticket details, so it seems I am set. Still grumpy though.

Once again half three rolls round and all the technicians leave. I'm not far behind them, and as the day before I head to my room to listen to music and chill out. I lay on the bed and all but fall asleep, jerking myself awake a few times until half five rolls round and I go down for dinner.

I am eating so early because I am meeting a friend later, so I had better eat first. I don't even have to look at the menu, I order burger, fries and a beer. But it seems that the good food this week has played hell with my digestion, and I feel stuffed, acid bubbling away.

I walk to the main square where there is a music festival one; a stage has been set up at one end of it, and bench seats set up outside the Dronning Louise. I thought the guy on stage had forgotten the words to a Mike and the Mechanics song, but turns out he was just doing a soundcheck. But I can tell you the smoke machine was working fine as he as all but invisible.

Stffen is there, so he buys me a beer. And I struggle to drink it, taking an hour to empty the glass, and refusing a second.

When I go outside the square had filled up with people, and bloke with his guitar was doing an acoustic version of Take on Me, which was OK. I don't stay however, I have yet more mails to write, so walk back down side streets, then back onto the main shopping street, passing stragglers heading to the square going in the opposite direction.

Back in my room I settle down to watch some handball; I have no idea what's going on or how long the game is. I think several times the half, or third, or quarter was coming to an end, but they kept on playing. France won in the end. So I went to bed as darkness fell, ready to go home.