9 October 2015
Back at base, trouble is a-brewing. Someone on Council is cross that the EyePeePee and I have made plans to go to the AIPLA meeting without getting permission from anyone first. This is my fault, because I didn’t think the Officers needed permission to go out and represent the Institute at one of the key foreign meetings of the year. I kind of assumed this was part of the job description. I did not want to do it, because I am not the globe-trotting gregarious type and anyway I don’t like the Presidential swimming gala medal, but I had braced myself for having to go anyway. Well apparently I was wrong. Apparently these international liaison trips may be part of the job description, but you still have to get permission to put yourself out to go and attend them. You still have to get permission to abandon your family for a week, endure jet lag and network yourself to exhaustion. And of course it will only be Premium Economy permission, because you are a President not a VIP, as evidenced by the aforementioned swimming gala medal. Having worked solidly on CIPA business yesterday afternoon and evening (for which I also failed to get permission); having got up early specially to clean the flat I am staying in so as not to expose CIPA to the costs of a Presidential hotel room; having not seen my family very much at all the last couple of weeks nor expected to see them much for the next couple of weeks either; having earned myself incessant back-ache by lugging a suitcase virtually everywhere I go, I reach the point of actually being a little bit hacked off. So after cleaning the flat, I get an early train home. There are meetings going on today too, but I figure I have not obtained permission to attend them so I’d better not go. The VeePee and the EyePeePee and the Chief Eggsek step valiantly into the breach. I will love them forever for that.
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