Day 68: Neither Ray Mears nor a Husky

Work.  Yes, today I actually did some work.  Up in the dark to the sound of the alarm-clock bird in the lime tree outside.  It's not actually my alarm clock (I'm not Ray Mears), but it's a bird with an unbelievably insistent 'boop-boop-boop-boop' monotone.  Like it's timing an egg or backing a truck.  Either of which would be impressive, if unlikely. 

(I did an image search for 'boring bird' and freakishly this deeply unflattering photo of black-tie no-beard Ray was offered.  Mine is not to question why, but simply to take what is so generously given.)

I drive to deepest agricultural Cambridgeshire through the dawn.  I'm more of a hill-fan, but those acres of flat ploughed fields allow for big, big skies.  Hard to keep my eyes on the road, when the darkness lifts to inky blue, streaked with silvery grey and improbably camp peach.  Stunning.   



Today's work?  The psychology of teams, through game-play.  Yes.  ME on TEAM WORK.  Rather like getting Hitler in to run a course on diversity.  (OK - unnecessarily dramatic.  It's not that I can't work in a team.  I just don't.  I'm better in a loose affiliation of individuals.  I'm not a husky.)  Three sessions, back to back, too much bad coffee, no lunch break, backed-up kidneys.  It's not a gentle reintroduction to work, it's a full body immersion.  For which I am grateful.  No point dithering about in the shallow end, prolonging the discomfort.  I am now fully rehabilitated. 

In other good news, my AWOL cardigan (Day Thirty-Eight) has returned to the fold, following a prolonged meditation retreat in Dorset.  It smells of roast vegetables and peace.