The faithful PA was back at work today and somehow the arrival of the complicated spreadsheets, the requests for receipts, the hyper efficient typing made it all seem so grown up - the Olympics seemed a long way away, all that simplicity of running round and round as fast as you can. Like cleaning up after a good party, dipping into the after eight box to find out that someone has eaten all the chocolate and put the envelopes back in. ( another offence that should bar you from voting). It's a bit like settling down to start a book you really like the look of and then thinking.. I've read this before.
Took dog out very early. Saw a lovely wee border collie, about 6 months old. It took one look at Pit Bull and ran away, (clever dog). The owner came over and said that my dog was 'interesting looking.' He should get a job in the United Nations Peace keeping force with that degree of diplomacy. Did some patients, tried to make that spreadsheet work, coloured lots of boxes in red, typed in boxes but I couldn't see it. Took my ages to work out I was typing in red font on a red back ground. Stressed about that, I then sat down with a cup of tea and watched Mo Farah's 5000 metres again, still thought the Ethiopian was going to go past him in the last 100 metres. But he didn't manage it, again.
Getting together some of the plans for the Killer Cook book which is a rather exciting project, something a little different. I think I said earlier that is it the best Christmas present for somebody that you do not like.
I can say no more or I would have to kill you. From looking at them some of these recipes just might.
Have been given a book to look at by a friend. It is nearly very good just technically a bit fuzzy at times, nothing that a close edit will not sort out. The close edit will go on in a rather tasty curry house with some wine - it's the best way to do it!
Got through 105 emails today, including a email discussion on how to keep pigeons off the top of the windows at work. Without killing them - that seemed to be the automatic response. Kill Them! Decided that the war on pigeon pooh might be more honourably won by putting that wirey brush stuff on. That was a lot of typing all about pigeon shit. It's very difficult to remove, hardened and in many layers. Like Joan Rivers make-up
. Two minutes after all that bird pooh that I was being posh, doing an interview with the Herald.
Tomorrow I am going to get my novel back on schedule. For Defo!