Dream: I find myself in an episode of
Moonlighting. Did I travel back in time?
I wake just after 7AM in solid fashion and a fairly fine mood. I worry that I am deluding myself about the
general situation at the moment. Elements
of me are acting like a bastard and my general flippancy with money yesterday
was too reckless.
I don’t have a
hangover but I do feel bloated. I’m
eating far too much at the moment.
Returning to train at this time is quite frankly essential.
On cue before long I
am bouncing out the door and boarding a train (an Overground pleasure). Omens prove good as when I arrive at
Whitechapel it is the second train that is a Hammersmith Line one. Often I have waited what feels an eternity
for these things. I’m on a streak.
With this in swift
fashion I am soon at Farringdon catching a coffee at Caffe Nero before bounding
into the office and interesting people.
Quite often it is the
mature assistant and I that are the first people in. We are actually both quite old school. It’s a shame that he dresses in shirt and
trousers because I think it would be more than accepted for us to dress casual
(and thus comfortable). I know for sure
I would be much more productive. That
said this unified appearance and responsibility forces me to keep my eye on the
ball and my standards high. And we’re
not talking about James Morris standards here, we’re talking solid standards of
substance, not smoke and mirrors to cover cracks.
Delving into the day
I distribute my knowledge for what it is worth.
And at the moment what that is, I am not quite sure. Certainly I am the only qualified accountant
in the building and thus on paper the most senior and best finance person but
stuff is still coming together, my role is not the finished product yet.
With an assistance
that was foreign, absent and unknown at London Union/Street Feast, I piece
things together here that were not previously possible. So I’m not the worst accountant ever after
all.
Bouncing off the back
of yesterday’s positive visit I plant a picture with an even better
understanding of proceedings. This is
how you induct/introduce a senior member of finance into your
organisation. You don’t just give them a
box fresh and let them get on with it.
On that note a
productive morning soon passes as a Michelin star lunch is ordered and supplied
(kind of). This is a better thing than I
am used to.
Feeling good into the
afternoon I sail away until finally the working day is done Cyndi Lauper style
and I get to go back to my cell.
Staggering out onto
the street I appreciate how livelier Farringdon is compared to St Johns Wood, Warwick Avenue
On cue I cut back to
Canada Water in cool fashion. Once there
I settle into the customary position.
I know there is more
to life than this. I just don’t know
what/how to do it. Where to tap into the
well.
One place appears to
be Tinder where tonight I find myself speaking to a latest black lady. This one is called Abbie. Her photos are fierce but her words are very
friendly. And excitingly she’s not too
far away.
I mention that I like
the photos on her profile where she smiles.
In response she goes to bed.
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