Cliché

A fine day with a pleasant cycle into the office past the big bold cliché of the sun just below the horizon and silhouetting the bridge. And then to work - sending off the day's tender, working on last week's new project and then getting confirmation (well, preferred tender, near as damn it. Consonants to dot and cross) of another stonking project. The sort that gets more of a gulp than a cheer.

And then the afternoon getting a nice wee phone call to offer the contract of the tender emailed off earlier. Even after 20 years, you never tire of people telling you that they'd like to accept your tender.

Off to Ewan's high-school-to-be for the start of the whole transition process. Didn't transition in my day. You just went and participated in the rituals of getting lost, bullied and streamed. Still, seems like a nice place. Solid mixed ability comprehensive. All fulfilling potential and stuff like that.