This morning an evil 4.15am alarm call rocks the household. Well actually, no one appears to actually notice as I crawl out of bed and get ready for my 6.20am flight to Belfast. Doggo lifts an eyebrow, L momentarily stirs but then rolls over and goes back to sleep. At least MD wags his tail at me when I venture into the kitchen where he sleeps.
The flight goes well, not so the car hire. The car hire people have mistakenly booked our car for collection from Belfast city centre and not George Best City Airport, which is where we are. Strangely the hire people do no wish to sort this out for us and just tell us to 'get a taxi', which seems a good way of persuading our company to take their not insignificant business elsewhere.
Once at the meeting, my travelling companion, a salesman launches into his usual sales pitch, explaining all the 'features and benefits' of our software. Rumour has it that this is the same criteria on which he judges his women. I have to nudge him to cut it short, we have after all already clinched the sale. Old habits die hard, especially with salesmen.
It's already been a long day and by lunchtime, we are taking turns nodding off. He dozes while I'm talking and then I when he's talking. We just hope no one notices but I only nod off about four times, which isn't bad considering.
Back home L's doing her Biobank today, where her figures come out oddly similar to mine but there's no chance of her deposing me from the top of the league because women come with an extra 10% of essential fat built in. How cruel is that?
The meeting goes well and at 6pm I get the flight back but from a different airport, Belfast International, just to make things confusing. L texts to say that she's taking the bloody pup on the park. Ah, seems he's as popular as ever.
When I get home, after the long hard and tiring day I've had, there are only really two ways to unwind. Sex or alcohol. As it's an AF Wednesday, the former will have to suffice. Thankfully, L doesn't object.