Leap Day

Things were still looking a bit dodgy right up until early afternoon with regard to the job I'm working on, and then, with a flurry of activity, the client finally got the long-overdue act together and came up with all the outstanding material. Unfortunately, this didn't happen until four o'clock or so, which left me with a long list of work to do before artwork can get to the printer. I half thought of cancelling my dinner appointment with my old pal and meet-about-once-a-month dinner companion Tom, but I'm glad I decided to down tools in time to keep our 7.45 appointment. We ate in Balzac's restaurant on Dawson Street (formerly La Stampa) and had couple of ginny things afterwards in the Dawson Lounge, which describes itself (justifiably so) as Dublin's smallest pub. I got the 1.00 am NiteLink home.

As I walked over O'Connell Bridge, battling against the blustery wind, I whipped my mobile phone out of my pocket and rang my cousin in Richmond, Virginia, who's like our very own Mr Blogs and only celebrates her actual birthday once every four years. I got through to the answering machine and left birthday wishes, finishing by asking if she was seventeen or eighteen at this stage. It was only when I'd ended the call that I realised what age I was suggesting she was, so I phoned back immediately and told the answering machine that I was joking, of course, and I knew she was really only sweet sixteen. I hope I managed to patch up the damage.