The heart crept back into its box today, though I still didn’t fancy a run this evening. Instead, an hour of towpath cycling. At the end of it, my legs let it be known they’d had a decent workout, though I hadn’t produced quite enough of the salty wet stuff for my liking.
The first of two days in London today. On the train in, the plump blonde lady next to me answered her phone and tutted impatiently, before answering the question she’d been posed: “Up in the bedroom in the pink handbag. Otherwise, there are some in the big pot in the cupboard with the cereals….” I was keen to know what sort of item would be at home in both a handbag and a cereal cupboard, but unless I find myself sitting next to her again tomorrow, it must remain a mystery forever.
To the office, for my half-year review with my immediate boss and ‘bigger’ boss. I survived the two hour grilling better than I’d feared I might. In fact, it was alarmingly jolly. I live to fight another day.
The news slipped out that our team is likely to be extending its presence to the Asia-Pacific region over the next year or so. I immediately staked my claim. The chances of it happening are probably slight, but I’d leap at the chance of a secondment out east for a couple of years. Watch this space.
Pleasant surprise when I got home: three sturdy wooden cases of claret have been delivered. Chateau Cissac 2006. It’s one of the nice things about buying wine en primeur: because you pay two years before it’s bottled and available, you tend to forget that you bought it. Then one day it just turns up, and you think, ah yes.
No idea when these treats will be consumed. I rather like the idea of glugging my way through them in my dotage — in between zimmerthon training campaigns, of course.
