Tuesday 3rd September 2019

Its off to head office we go. Or I go.

I am in the breakfast room when a strange lady said hello to me. I did not recognise her, so I say nothing expept a mumbled "morning" and sit at another table and eat my cereal.

Driving to work meant navigating round the street art festival, but at least at seven in the morning there is no other traffic about and little pedestrian and cyclist either. I run over or into no one.

A good morning.

At the office I have a day of inductions, inductions to systems and processes I know already, but as it is cetral quality, we at least have to do it right.

Which is good.

The day passes with me in meeting rooms, asking questions and becoming a new member of the team. Or, in fact, rejoining the team I left when I became a PQM.

My new/old boss, pays for me to have lunch in the canteen. We have so many employees now, there are no spare seats at all so we have to sit where we can, next to strangers.

I get a text message from someone from the Warrington office I have been dealing with on and off for a few weeks: please tell me it was you in the breakfast bar at the Radisson I spoke to or I have freaked out some stranger?

It was I, Le Clare, I said, channeling my inner Allo Allo.

I finish work at five, drive back to the hotel, again not killing or injuring anyone.

I was in a rush as my friend, Shaggy, was coming to meet up, but first I had to buy cake.

Cake.

Cake is consumed in Denmark for any reason. At all. And why not?

Last week it was my birthday, a cakeist offence. And this week I started my new job, so another cake-based offence.

I buy six from Fotex next the hotel, and pop them in the car to take to work on the morrow.

Shaggy arrives and we have a beer in the hotel before going out to the streetfood place which is not in a street, but an old bus station shed, or so it seems. We eat well on some kind of unidentified white meat and vegetable stuff.

We then go to Highlander where there is a beer festival on. I hold my pint while I explain to bemused Danish students what the fuck is going on with Brexit. I think my passion and swearing wins them over.

I finish the beer, and we walk back to the hotel in the twilight. I am still shattered, but the flu seems to have faded over the day, and maybe I might get to sleep.

I hope so,