Alive

Just. I got a text message at 5pm asking if I was still up for a run. "oh YES !" I replied, because I didn't want to lose face. I worked until midnight last night, chatted with Keith until 1am and then realised I'd hugely productively stripped my bed that morning (and cleaned the bathroom) before 7am - but forgot to ask my making-bed-before-our-legs-buckle teammate Lizzy to sound the 7pm alarm.

I didn't really want to go for a run. Plus I have another chunk of work to clear before my client's PM goes on holiday. I like her a lot and I know what it's like to be a PM. Being a PM about to go on holiday, relying on freelancers, is pretty stressy.

It turned out Tom didn't really want to go for a run either. Neither of us thought we'd complete the 7k. We did. And we felt pretty fabulous afterwards.

Then I got another SMS telling me an old lady who I used to work for, the mother of someone I still work for (I kept on 3 cleaning jobs purely because I love the people) has died. To say she was a character would be a huge understatement. She'll be missed.

Anyway. I'm very much alive. And fitter and happier than I've ever been. And getting fitter and happier. And if that isnt cause for a pre-evening work hot bath amd sherry, then I don't know what is.

RIP Thomasina and salut!