I had thought of running again this morning but frankly, I’m knackered. So I opt to miss the bus again. This is becoming a bad habit. It’s not all my fault. The bus has started stopping 50 metres or so before the bus stop because there's never any room at the QMC bus stop and I can't see it sitting there when I'm walking up.
I’ve got a customer in for a demo this morning which means battling with the ‘white elephant’ plasma screen that we bought for such occasions but that never works. Today I’m feeling lucky and it works.
Our salesman is more confident than me about how well he expects the meeting to go and conveys his confidence by betting fifty quid that I can cover every scenario that they come up with, with one hand tied behind my back. Well if there’s fifty quid riding on it, I’m more than happy to stuff it up.
But I don’t. Meeting goes well.
After work I head into Derby to meet a couple of friends. Meanwhile L is, as usual, trying to talk herself out of the gym. I offer to join the debate, because I think she should go. Then I can think of her working out whilst I sip a beer. She heads off, muttering about thinking about me sipping a beer. She goes early before, and I quote 'all those young flashy students with their pony tails start queuing for the machines'. I’d wait if it was me, sounds heavenly. I really don't go to the gym enough.
I ought to be ‘good’ tonight really, I have ten miles around Holme Pierrepont to do on Sunday but any thought of being ‘good’ is dispensed with when they put Timothy Taylor’s Ram Tam on the bar. You just don’t see that very often. Unfortunately I got dragged away from it. I was in the wrong pub, we were supposed to be meeting next door.
L’s done her workout and is on the Mocha. Now I'm in the right pub, I’m on similar. Titanic Chocolate and Vanilla Stout, which I reckon is about as close to Mocha as you can get.
Somebody suggests we go watch the football in the Wetherspoons pub. Unfortunately he means Porto v Braga, which is the all Portuguese final of one of these European tournaments which I didn’t think anybody cared about and is being played in Ireland. I had hoped we were going to watch one of the play-off games.
Porto v Braga is predictably dull, ends 1-0 to Porto and is about as exciting as waiting for our food, which takes ages to arrive. The play-off game by the way was Huddersfield v Bournemouth for the dubious privilege of getting to play Derby in the Championship next season. The game was poised at 1-1 after the first leg and ends 3-3 tonight (4-4 on aggregate) after extra time and goes to penalties, which Huddersfield win. Which game would you have rather been watching? Exactly.
(Wednesday 18th May)