My legs were aching for a run early on Wednesday morning. 8km later and they were just aching.
I had planned for the 10km route around the estuary and back up through Alresford. But even with my optimistic fitness head on, I probably didn’t have enough time.
@RichardGallon was waiting online for a UX catch up on a project that he is working on.
It felt odd having a proper work conversation together, rather than the usual photos and coffee. I still like the idea of being close pals with an ex-work colleague.
I was once told that at work you should (i) make friends who will stay with you once the work has finished, and (ii) undermine management at all times.
I’ve done rather well to stick with one of these mantras.
The conversation was quite deep and got me thinking about various online and offline calls to action.
I didn’t have the luxury of time for my own work shifts. Yet more school policies dropped around luncheon. I sense Mr Ofsted is sniffing around South London sometime soon.
The kittens were cat shit CRAZY all day. They just wouldn’t settle – which made remote working particularly tricky.
They have both now mastered the art of jumping on to the kitchen surface. This is of course frowned upon, but when just one of them could manage it, feeding was a lot easier.
I also gave in and allowed them to have a nibble on my little finger. Their kitten teeth are making no impact. I fear that this will rapidly change, now that they have become comfortable with the concept.
The Bragg / Joe Henry album got another outing during the afternoon shifts. I’d forgotten all about it over the past few weeks to be honest.
I’m warming to it – even the dodgy production. It reminds me a lot of Michelle Shocked’s Texas Campfire Tapes, an album that most definitely wasn’t recorded with crisp production techniques as a consideration.
The kittens eventually found a sleeping place inside a cupboard in the desk from the Raj / Colchester – which was slightly odd.
I foolishly started to install Sierra on my old iMac. It took the exact amount of time it took me to play 1,000 Volts of John Holt.
One of these events made me very happy; the other was just meh.
I managed to down work tools just ahead of sunset.
From the inside it looked GLORIOUS.
I legged it down to the Quay, hopeful of catching *that* shot as the fading estuary wilds sun slipped behind the back of the Roman River.
I was too late. It was all a bit hey hoe.
I half-heartedly pointed my BIG LENS at some birds.
An owd Essex Girl approach and asked:
“What species are they?”
I’m not sure if she was testing me, or just genuinely enquiring.
Ask a silly question etc.
The tut could be heard on the other side of the muddy banks of the Colne.
Happy to help, Madam.
Wednesday evening was spent chasing some ROCK ‘N’ ROLL accountancy and security quotes, with half an eye on the ACE London Six.