A relatively short break from the weekly treadmill of commuting and staying away from home during the week followed the wonderful stay that I experienced at the B&B outside of Brighton. Not counting attending college, I had a four-day weekend to enjoy myself before heading off on my travels again.
My four days off consisted of Skyping for several hours with the wonderful Kate Loveton, catching up with friends, and showing my face to various family members in the hopes that they hadn’t forgotten me entirely. I know, I know… my face is far too ugly to forget!
As seems to be the way with me, I felt a headache developing a day or two before I was due to travel halfway up the country for a couple of team meetings. Feeling a little green around the gills on the Tuesday morning, I drove over 140 miles in roughly 3 hours, which was pretty good when you consider that I made a pit stop a couple of times along the way (a quick rearrangement of the letters in the words ‘pit’ and ‘stop’ will give you a fair idea of why I needed to pull into a services a couple of times…)
Just as I pulled up at the hotel, I received a call from my manager who I had been scheduled to meet at 2pm, telling me that she was seriously behind and wouldn’t be able to meet me until the early evening. I had no problem with the meeting being put back (these things happen, after all) but I was slightly miffed that the hotel wouldn’t let me check in until 2pm that afternoon.
So I had 90 minutes to burn before I could lay my weary (and pounding) head down for a few hours. I drove to the nearest shopping centre in the hopes that some retail therapy would take my mind off the throbbing of my head, yet even my lust for new clothing could not douse the pain in my head.
I picked up a pot of chicken tikka masala and rice in the local supermarket (or grocery store for my American pals!) and slouched back to my car to eat it all the while feeling pretty sorry for myself. To add insult to injury, upon eating the said curry and rice, I was alarmed to find that there were no traces of chicken to be found. The supermarket, in all of their nefarious evilness, had stiffed me on the chicken but still left the flavour of it inside the curry. That’s just cruel if you ask me…
I eventually checked in at the hotel, took a couple of strong painkillers and then had a nap for a couple of hours before a knock at my door woke me. I couldn’t recall ordering room service, although when in the middle of a severe headache, I barely remember anything at all. Alas, it was not a cold pint of beer and steak and fries on a plate, it was just the receptionist informing me that my manager had arrived and was waiting for me down in the bar where, quite frankly, EVERY single meeting should be held.
It started with coffee, progressed to soft carbonated drinks, and finished with an evening meal. After five and a half hours, my meeting with my manager concluded and the only reason we stopped was due to the bar calling ‘time’ and closing for the night. It would be fair to say that my manager and I like to chat a lot and several times went off-topic and discussed most worldly topics that were in no way shape or form related to our job roles.
Perhaps it was fortuitous that I had a nap on the Tuesday afternoon as the next couple of days consisted of back to back meetings. On Wednesday we were all asked the same question about why our best friend is actually our best friend. My immediate answer was that Kate Loveton is my best friend because she knows where I buried all the bodies… This raised a few titters and some alarmed facial expressions from a couple of colleagues who don’t know me that well yet and, after that comment, probably weren’t too keen on getting to know me any better either.
Call it team building (I just call it an excuse for a good night out), my colleagues and I went to the local leisure complex and had a couple of games of bowling. I’m blaming my lack of accuracy on the fact that I was stone-cold sober while playing, although my manager did remark that my technique was pretty good, it was just my aim that was crap.
I have to thank one of my male colleagues for taking one for the team and coming last so that I didn’t have to, besides he was the same colleague who booked me into that hideous pub outside of Brighton a couple of months ago and he owed me one anyway.
There were some sore heads and bruised egos at the meeting the next day and I think we were all pretty glad when it concluded so that we could all begin our long journeys back home. I made good time until I hit the M25 and got stuck on the damn thing for nearly two hours. It was also a warm and humid day, and so sitting in a massive traffic jam was not exactly an enjoyable experience.
I got home several miserable hours later.
As much as I enjoy delivering sessions, it was nice to have a week away from giving your everything to a group of learners, day after day, some of who don’t always appreciate the time and effort we put in to our sessions. I was able to meet up with colleagues, catch up on the latest gossip, look at a picture of someone’s prawn (yes, really) and get my ass kicked at ten pin bowling. Best of all, the first couple of days of the following week would see me commuting from home each day. I would be back home in my local area, always something to look forward to. I would receive a hero’s welcome, surely?
You’ll just have to wait until next week to find out!