Locked out.
It started out well enough, breakfast as usual, but I was anxious from the outset because I had a couple of big meetings. I have given up arguing with the inner anxiety demon. I just acknowledge it nowadays. "Do your thing," I say to it. That seems to make it subside a bit and I just let it churn away while I get on with practical stuff.
First meeting, the big one, was a dummy run with a client (a big government Department) for a workshop that we are going to facilitate with their senior management on their new corporate strategy. It was going fine, I was using PowerPoint to do a mind-map in real time and it was working well. But suddenly everything froze when my Internet went down. I called my colleague, who was also in the meeting, and he agreed a re-convene for 3.30 pm. Frustrating, but not the end of the world. Then I had another ZOOM meeting with another major client in the consumer protection world. That went well.
After lunch, a builder called to assess a paving job at the front of our house. Naomi and I stepped out of the front door and explained what we wanted. I engaged, over the fence, with the kids next door on their letters to Santa and whether their mummy should put up Christmas lights around their house. The little boy gave me a lovely crayon scrawl piece of art.
Then we realised that the front door to our house had slammed shut. We have high security doors and we rushed to see if the back door was open. It was locked and phones, ZOOM computers and impending meetings were all locked inside. PANIC. The kind builder said he would give me a lift down to Matthew's house to get the spare key whilst Naomi sheltered in the garage!
Now, this is Ireland, so the builder and I had great bit of craic whilst he drove me down to Matt's house. I learned that he has seven children, has a mate who survived a crash that flattened his Landrover and has a wife who is the love of his life and makes the best packed lunches in the world.
Returning to our house with Matthew we realised that the spare key would not work because the other key was in the lock on the inside of the door. So we bowed to the inevitable and called a locksmith. He came within 20 minutes. But our locks are drill resistant and he had to labour quite bit with diamond tipped drills and a lot of noise to even make a dent in them. But he had great technique and eventually managed to wrench out the old lock insert and gain access to the house. Then he fitted new lock barrels and we were inside and secure once more. We also had a great bit of craic, whilst I held the torch for him to see what he was doing. He told me he had saved up all his pennies when he was young to go over to England and train as a professional locksmith. I am so glad that he did.
Now, the big meeting with the big client has been rearranged for tomorrow morning, so I have my fingers and toes crossed that nothing else goes wrong.
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