Every day seems to crash into the next at the moment. A never ending trudge towards nowhere in particular. Somehow almost a week has passed since I last wrote. Life keeps happening. Or rather, work keeps happening.
I’ve been parachuted into a sizeable project that I have no real part in, and have been on a vertical learning curve to at least understand what it’s all about. Hours and hours have been spent watching recorded meetings, reading scraps of documentation, and faking confidence.
Anyway.
I cut the lawn after work this evening. I’m not sure why I’m writing about it. The overriding thought was “if I get this done, I won’t have to do it at the weekend”. That sentiment drives much of my life at the moment.
While writing this, Suzanne Vega is singing “Marlene on the Wall”.
How is it 1am already? Where did the evening go? I’m half-watching Google Maps - to see my middle daughter finish her shift at the pub and begin making her way home. One of us typically stays up when she’s working late. The 3am finishes are no joke.
Maybe I should start a late night movie group with friends - for the nights when I’m staying up late. Of course - any vaguely sensible person will have been asleep hours ago.
Perhaps the idea I had a while ago about the midnight writing club wasn’t such a bad idea after all - where we wander into a group video chat with no requirement to actually chat - we’re just “there”. I wonder if it would work?
Easter is this weekend. I haven’t bought any Easter eggs yet. Perhaps I’ll escape at lunchtime tomorrow and see what I can find in town.
I’m going to stop writing now.