Note to self. Don’t take time off work ever again. Sure, it’s all fun and games when you’re knee-deep in Homes Under The Hammer, viewing it through a hazy vista of drugs and self-pity, but when the inevitable return to work happens there’s more payback than you can shake a pack of paracetamol at.
So this week I have been in a meeting. I think there were changes of subject at times, but from the start of Monday until late Friday I was either physically in a meeting, some of which were down south, or sat on conference calls not quite being able to hear people, asking who has just joined and confirming that yes I can see your screen. I’ve had better weeks. All of this was endured manfully whilst still not being 100% fully fit. This lurgy just will not die.
Sure, earlier generations had jobs like coal mining, and at times that could be tough I’m sure, but they will never appreciate the misery of working in a warm office, filled with free coffee, having to listen to some blert talking down the phone line about the art of the possible and reaching out. The first victim of a conference call is my will to live.
To continue my ill-advised and unjustified whinging, added to all of this was the soul-destroying relentless winter weather. Everything feels harder in these dark, wet, cold and sometimes snowy months. Indeed, my drive down to Marlow earlier in the week was remarkable for the snow which seemed to follow me all the way down, only to be joined by freezing fog from somewhere around Warwick. I ended the drive realising that I had everything tensed with concentration for the previous four hours. I yearn for the more relaxed, lighter and warmer times for those three days in July when you don’t need a coat.
Louise now finds herself full of a cold. Clearly, it isn’t the same illness as I had. There’s no way she could handle that level of illness of course. Her affliction is a little more traditional than mine, as the mucus excess is real whereas I was too ill for such trivialities. I doubt I am to blame for passing that along. More likely she has picked it up from one of her many patients whilst undertaking one of the unmentionable procedures and treatments on them. Again, I’m sure that’s a tough job, but there’s no comparison as sometimes I have to work from home and do things like create Powerpoint presentations or write some emails. As the song goes, nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen.
With us both feeling less than brilliant, last night, with a weekend off from Mustarding, we took the chance to order in a curry and binge watch something. We absorbed all of Killing Eve off of the iPlayer and loved it. It was one of those things we’d heard good things about but hadn’t got round to watching. If you are in that same boat, seek it out. It’s a good one.
We are hoping to venture out later to the cinema to watch The Favourite so I can provide another gloriously in-depth review of that next time if I remember. I am the Barry Norman of Bolton. Anyway, things to do, must crack on….
Till the next time…..