Lunch

Work edged so far into lunchtime that it was nearly time for a mid afternoon snack when the calls stopped and I was able to nip into the kitchen for pate on fresh baguette, instead of the leftover salad from yesterday I expected. It’s like my birthday every day when Mr B is on catering duty.

Later, my printer failed to print the picture K wanted to frame and give to a friend, though I might argue that she could have mentioned it more than 20 minutes before she was due to leave the house to see such friend. However that equipment failure was forgotten when she stalled the car and then couldn’t get it to work again. Luckily she stalled it in its parking place so there was no big drama with that car.

Our third car (yes, I know) hasn’t moved since we received the French registration documents, so I hastened to the insurance office to get the insurance sorted so Mr B could try to get that one going (flat battery from not being moved for a few months), missing a meeting with a client who seems to need to discuss every email I send despite my very best efforts to explain everything in super-patronising detail.

Someone at another client phoned to drop a bomb into my Friday evening and then it was dinner, telly, trying to get Piper to take her medicine, and finally time to hear about TallGirl’s Friday night DND.