7 April 2016, 2 pm
Now I am in a meeting of the Administrators’ Committee. We are talking about CPD for administrators, who are going to be called Paralegals under the new CIPA Bye-laws, should the Bye-laws ever emerge from the Privy Council. At the end of the meeting I realise I have committed to finding several seminar speakers. There is a pattern emerging here, and it may be that Ms Wilkinson is not entirely to blame for the elongation of my to-do list. I do wish I had taken one of those caramel custard tarts, though. I have been doing meetings all day and I could just fancy something custardy to keep me going. 7 April 2016, 4 pm The EyePeePee and I head back towards Paddington from our day of CIPA meetings. The EyePeePee is a seasoned traveller but even she can get flustered when she has to carry on a conversation with me. Before long we realise that the tube train we’re on is stopping at the wrong places, and shortly afterwards that actually, the train is stopping at the right places but is not the train we ought to be on. A simple journey becomes hideously elongated and hits the rush-hour at Paddington just when my next train home is due. I lug my suitcase down the platforms and insinuate myself into one of the few remaining seats on the Brizzle train. I am tired and grumpy. The people I have insinuated myself next to look less than thrilled. On the journey home I check my emails, because that is what you have to do on a train. I discover that once again, after two days of being tied up in meetings, my Box de In is in a state of almost psychopathic disarray. Still, despite being cross and world-weary, I have enjoyed catching up with the EyePeePee. We don’t usually see enough of each other. And she is a far more polite companion than Monsieur Le President de l’EPO.
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