Just got home from a rather trying day in Bristol. Had to meet my contact "in the coffee bar" at around "mid-morning".
Due to the hurried nature of our plans last night and my own crap sense of location, I ended up in the wrong coffee bar in the wrong building for 25 minutes, fretting that I would miss the meeting we had lined up with a Tremendously Senior Person.
Eventually, however, we hooked up successfully. Then I mungoed about killing time till we had the pre-meeting meeting (pushed back from 1130 to 1pm which was stressful as I had longer to panic), at which it became apparent that the Tremendously Senior Person we were briefing was labouring under a major and critical misapprehension about my project.
Once we'd resolved that, it was time to hurry up and wait some more till 3pm, when I got to sit in on the Hugely Important Meeting (quietly and meekly at the back, and only for 15 minutes, mind) while the great and the good decided whether or not to let my project go ahead.
So hurrah. I (and my team) all still have jobs.
God I hate train travel though. It's just that little bit less stressful than driving over there, but it involves so much hanging about. And you're either freezing cold (like when you're waiting on a rainy windswept platform for 25 minutes) or boiling hot (when you're in an immensely crowded train and don't have the space to take off your coat).
On the way there, a nice Welsh lady was sat opposite me. When the ticket collector came to her, she asked for a single to Newport.
"Only a single?" the ticket man said. "How are you getting back?"
"Oh I have a lift home" she said, smiling.
The ticket man thought about this for a moment.
"Tell you what, love," he said. "Get a return. It's only 10p more expensive... your lift might not turn up, and then you'd be stuck."
So she did.
What a salesman. I might nominate him for an award.