So the happy is about to be taken out of New Year work-wise next week with the return of the most pernicious individual outside of the Tory government. Apparently she’s had a baby and gotten married; apparently, I’m reliably informed, this has not withered her poisonous capacity for withering. She belongs in a Wes Anderson movie where she should meet a brutal and slightly comical demise. Unfortunately, she’s made of Teflon/Kryptonite and is back to work on Monday, her boss sadly told us. Sob.
In other news, I traversed the length of the country and went “North” (North being that mythical terrain of colder temperatures and friendlier people). In sub-zero temperatures, some were even sat outside for lunch – next to the beach. There was snow on the ground but they were still smiling. Obviously. Six weeks away is clearly too long.
Mid-week I’ll be off for cocktails with the gals. Could be messy. Usually is. At least we will be drinking indoors and wearing coats.
Here’s a tune. Third time lucky for me as I hope to see Damien Jurado live in London in a few months. He was ill, then I was ill, you know how it is. MM bought me tickets for Christmas, so fingers crossed.
There’s a fantastic back catalogue of DJ tunes and this just happens to be one of my favourites. Tender, poignant, and a little bit January, if you know what I mean.