Another day

The thumping noises continue. Clearly, I'm not alone on this floor. Even more clearly, not such a bright idea to strip to change here instead of in the loo! I can't see anyone, which doesn't make me feel any brighter. It had to be like this, a gorgeous summer day, and a spontaneous combustion of hell in a hand basket means taking a break from an all out 'fix the fucking thing - we will have to reprint the damn pitch' and indulging in contract issues for a new client instead, before realising at 7.30 that the lightheaded feeling is a direct result of an absence of lunch. Guy proffers a negroid banana, and Tony ups the ante with a couple of mandarins. 8.30 and the revised version has finally been sent for printing. I still have a contract to read and a rather interesting, if off the record email to pen about the vagaries of undertaking a major project in Angola and just how much an expat school teacher might get paid there. Naturally, I had confidently assured my client I'd send the email 'later this evening'. Instead, an apology and I copy my skeletal start on to a memory stick. Need to be back here by 8, to see how the printers have fared, finish the note, close out the contract and then head off for a series of meetings between 1-6pm. And that's just off the cuff. Oh - need to be able to fit in a notice to vacate and return some dresses somewhere before the weekend. Can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring!