Way way too early to Waverley this morning. The board said platform 8E and I sat waiting patiently until, concerned, I left the waiting room and found the train on 8W.

On the journey from Manchester Piccadilly to the Mercure hotel I make a sale to a Glasgow company. Result! Then it's emails, admin and networking until my conference session at 4:00. Which went OK I think.

Gio and I train back to London together discussing the state of the industry AND Brexit. We eat shit sandwiches and drink overpriced beer. The Virgin toilet talks to me in a casual tone, instructing me not to flush sweaters or goldfish down it. A lippy toilet, I do not need.

At mum's flat I microwave a Madras, book some airline tickets and pass out. Tomorrow is another day. Apparently.

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