horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Bite the Hand That Feeds You

Got to be up at 5.20am to get to the airport, so naturally I got held up late at work tonight. Tomorrow's thing is a work thing in London with enforced team building things and, apparently, place settings for lunch. Joy. I'm generally okay with these things, but I've never understood why 'team building' seems to involve doing stuff that half the people feel uncomfortable with (apparently last time they did this there was an 'icebreaker game' of 20 questions to guess someone's greatest achievement); and the majority if the rest find patronising and pointless. There are people who get it, and enjoy this kind of thing, but they never seem to understand that the majority really don't.

Anyway, 5.50 taxi (the cost of which hasn't been confirmed yet that we can reclaim); 7.15am flight to get there almost an hour before registration even opens; games and fun and japes and speeches; 6pm flight home; no concession to come in the following day just a wee bit later. Attendance not negotiable. Can you tell I'm looking forward to it? Kind of hoping that I'm down in it enough that anything at all will be an improvement and so I'll be pleasantly surprised.

So out of work late tonight, eat dinner, then 2 and a bit hours solid painting the front of the house, then reminded that I haven't put some WD40 on the sticking door lock yet. If you didn't laugh. Still the front of the house is starting to look respectable. Just the windows, eaves, guttering, and gate to paint once the wee bit of the stonework left to do is done. I should manage to WD40 the door before all if that is done...

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