On Wednesday I got older. I had a lovely meal with lots of people, conversation was excellent and I might have actually managed vaguely-social-drinking. This excites me. Probably too much to be proper.
On Thursday I drove a lot. I went to some meetings, I went to a Governors meeting. Apparently the school is not in special measures - but is in the "stage before that" and will also be Ofsteded again next year to check if we're going in the right direction. Then I dashed across Birmingham to collect a lens from strangegothdude in preparation for Futility, then racing back through traffic to see Dog Turpie by the multitalented Ben Mars at the MAC. Then, off to Telford to drop off the photographs, back to Birmingham, pit-stop then off to see Harry Potter at 12:05.
'Arry is looking a bit older, a bit fatter and has taken some acting lessons. It would be tough to deny it was a good film and there were some wonderful set pieces (the arrival of the other schools is a particular favourite of mine). For trivia buffs - the actress who plays the schoolgirl ghost Moaning Myrtle is over 40. The downside was getting in at 3:30 in the morning when I had to be on a 7:30 train from New Street...
... instead I made the 7:00, after giving back to Ben his rucksack that he'd left in the boot of my car. This was obviously karmic exchange for quondam's wallet which she'd left in his car on Wednesday. I managed to snooze on the train, but it's now still before 10am but I'm shattered.
London is, London. I got up close and personal with a lovely smelling young lady on the Tube - who was more interested in sharing body heat with me than moving into the freespace in front of her; I watched a woman waddle along Victoria making me think of ducks and was strangely concerned about the lack of Armed Police ringing Scotland Yard. Perhaps undesirables don't get up on a Friday morning?
Will I last the weekend? Bet Now! Bet Now!