1937 I’m in my free points, upgraded, !smoking! room in the Churchill Hyatt with a free bottle of Drappier champagne on ice, and the worm in the apple is that Mark’s not here so smoking is almost irrelevant (honest injun, I don’t have a problem not being able to smoke in hotel rooms), the technology nightmare continues so I can get on my company internet but not anywhere else so I’m drinking a rather expensive half bottle of red wine from the minibar and hoping my scribbled note from the office will get me from here to Fenchurch Street. I can’t quite bring myself to open the champagne since I know I won’t drink it all, and feel a bit of a billy-no-mates since I can’t think of anyone I’d want to, who might want to, share my room except Mark, or Paula, who’s incommunicado, or my sister, who’s in a different country. Ought to be going orf to the London munch since that was my plan. SUCH a long time since I was there and I hope they haven’t changed the venue as I can’t get on tinternet to check! Ssssssssake! I carted my CG laptop in my suitcase AND the other one today on the basis I can get to the net using my mobile broadband and it won’t complain. So much for that! There’s obviously some new draconian rule been applied or I’ve done something kinda stupid. I tend to the latter. Maybe I shouldn’t have done the official VPN thing, but it works fine at home!
Alongside, I’m kinda cool. I deserve this, I deserve to make use of the accumulated points from months working away from home. One thing, I didn’t have ST high on my list so I have nothing suitable to wear, the thought of the theatre appeals despite not having anything suitable to wear there either but no-one will know me in a theatre so that’s OK too.
BAH! Again, I can’t check what’s on cos I can’t get to the net! Rugby on the telly now – seems Wales got further on but half the team clearly don’t know the words to their chosen anthem. Bit sad that. I should take myself to Paris too, not for rugby but just to visit - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that supersexy French chap is on the screen; I so want to corrupt his apparent blond innocence, he’d probably corrupt ME if I was the right age, but I can do the daydream thing. Tempting to watch it, I could have shared this with Pam if I’d ever got to a proper match rather than university ones. It’s not nearly as cool on a hotel TV as on a pub big screen though.
2002 off to see the elephant. Bit of slap to show I made an effort and this won’t get blogged till Sunday night or Monday unless I figure out what idiocy I’ve perpetrated on the machine.
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Bless you x 1000 for wanting to share your champagne with me. You're not a billy-no-mates, just a billy-sad-mates at persent.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying hard to get back to me, but I can't see me through the tears. I'll get there in the end, I have to.