Once again, all the interesting bloggy things I wanted to tell you about have left my mind. So I will just catch you up on my week so far.
On Monday I went to work. Here in London it was partly cloudy and got to 30C (about 88F), and it was so lovely when I left the office that I decided to see if I could walk part of the way home, from St Paul's in the east to Bond Street in the west.
I went in a couple of circles trying to get my bearings in the City, which I am somewhat familiar with but don't visit enough, so I bumped into St Paul's Cathedral twice, after going the wrong way to the Barbican and Museum of London. I was looking for Fleet Street and think I glimpsed it from Holborn Viaduct. Eventually, I cut through Shoe Lane to Fleet Street, and rather than staying on Holborn to Oxford Street, I went down to Aldwych. I wanted to go through Covent Garden to Leicester Square, but ended up skirting past it - I could see it up the streets I passed. After a while I left deep Theatre Land and once I got to Trafalgar Square, I knew I had made it, to my old stomping grounds. I went up Haymarket to Piccadilly to Regent Street and from there up Oxford Street to Bond Street Station, where I took the Tube and went home after dark.
It took an hour and a half and was well worth it. Why is it that my American and Italian shoes are more suited to walking than my English ones??? (They give me blisters!)
Anyway, you would love the quaint architecture and the narrow, crooked little pubs along Fleet Street. Not to mention the Gothic arches of the Royal Courts of Justice and the Georgian facade of temple Bar.
I should do that walk again before the evenings draw in sooner.
I took pics to share, but it would take too long to post them.
Monday, the firm had engaged a second temp for the week to ease off some of the pressure of the current project. She was called Olivia too, 32 from South Africa, married with a 10 year old daughter. From a distance she looked 10 years younger because of her freckles and snub nose. We talked about age and being only children (her daughter is), and she said I looked fantastic for my age.
Unfortunately she didn't get the hang of it and they sent her home at 4.30.
Tuesday, I went to work again. Captivating, eh?
Usually I don't get a place in a crowded carriage at rush hour, but that morning I got shoved in and wedged by an old man's giant stomach. It was a proper protuberance, and boy was he grumpy. As I oozed into the carriage I knew I would get stuck. I didn't have to hold on to anything or even stand, really, because I was in that tight.
At Baker Street, people inside the carriage wanted to get out. It is common courtesy for the people on the platform to let someone back first on if they get off to make way, but that was not an issue for him. He was staying put. As people surged towards the exit and others jostled to make space and I fought to keep my footing, I looked backwards at him beseechingly but he gave me a look of defiance. At first I got a lot of dark looks until they realised it was him blocking the door.
Today I went to work again (I know!), and was relieved to see the second temp had made it to her second day.
This week all the financial and economic terms are not as unfamiliar, I have more confidence to anticipate and edit what the interviewees are saying, and the annual reports are not a load of mumbo jumbo (OK, hehe, maybe they are, but I can refer to them with confidence now). I am also not as physically exhausted as I was in the first two or three weeks, although spelling can be a challenge for me at this time of night.
Oddly enough, it is not my fingers that get tired, rather it is the signal from the brain that doesn't reach my fingers properly. Brain talks and fingers go haywire, hitting keys almost at random. Good thing we have backspace and this is not on paper.
On the Tube this morning, I finally hit on the solution for being too big for my size 6 trousers (US 2) and still too small to upgrade to a size 8 (US 4 - it would be silly if I did, I shuffle around in eights like a vagrant). Anyway, the solution is to wear more skirts and dresses! It's not as if I am short of them, but I don't usually favour them for the office. However, they are more comfy to sit in. Monday I wore a skirt, and today I wore a dress.
I have thrown away two pairs of tights this week owing to my stupid toes popping out: a pair of natural sheers that I worked through on my long walk on Monday, and a pair of black holdups that I wore today, and half my feet were protruding by the time I reached the office! So on the way home I went to John Lewis for some reinforced toe tights. I keep my toenails as short as possible and smoothly filed, so it's not that. How can they sell so many non-reinforced toe tights?
Then it was on to M&S at Marble Arch for a couple of days' worth of dinner elements, and I thnk the staff recognise me now. I have been there innumerable times, but once you go to a shop regularly after work you become recognisable, even if it is only once a week. I had a great chat with the girl on checkout who asked how my day went, and wanted to know what figs taste like. By the time I left, it was raining with vigour and the bagpiper was still going strong outside Selfridges.
I had no umbrella, so my hair right now is all nice and curly-wavy in a very 1930s way, but unfortunately I have to wash it tonight.
And the thunder is most fun to listen to. Thunder in London! I looooove thunder. Mum used to say it was God moving the furniture around.
A few bursts of thunder, the clouds have opened, and now the thunder is veritably cracking across the sky!
And so I bid you goodnight.