Own goal

‘The style is the man,’ once said Richard Nixon and devoted his life to boring his readers.

The fifth, and final, day of my Glasgow odyssey. I'm in the Cathedral NCP car park before 8:30; sipping coffee in Spitfire with Matt; video conferencing with Natalie in Collabor8te at 9.

We're in the downstairs "living room", sprawling on comfy chairs. Lucy arrives before 11, Steve a little later (delay courtesy of FlyMayBe from Southampton). It's going to be a long day. Punctuated by a welcome lunch at the vegan café over the road.

And when we've dealt with the main meat of the agenda, we squeeze in a discussion around metrics and goals. I have no problem with metrics, but goals often seem like tricks of management, designed to mess with your head. I don't trust them - especially when they're intended to modify *my* behaviour.

Back home, I'm being interviewed by Indienotes, a podcast. We talk about running a business. I get asked for "advice" and resist giving any.

Megan cooks salmon, served with a cucumber, grape, and yoghurt salad. We book her flight to Lyon for grape picking, and various train journeys for me.