CHANGE IS GOOD - AS IS A REST (for broken boyfriends)

So, now I'm an event producer. Who knew?

I'm loving my new job, even if (or rather especially because) I've been thrown in the deep end. The client on my current projects is lovely, my colleagues are very sweet/funny/chatty/brilliant, and the only complaint I can possibly make is 'what the hell is wrong with the District line after 6pm?'.

All go here. Birmingham and Leeds last week. Birmingham Motorcycle Museum may not sound great, and is in fact a little dry, but you absolutely cannot fault the staff in any way - incredibly lovely, proactive people. Leeds Royal Armouries were not, as the rumours I'd heard would have it, difficult. In fact, they were very good at making little problems disappear. And the hall of steel is awesome, even if you do feel something is going to drop on your head any moment...

This week we're in Bristol and Peterborough. I'm looking forward to Bristol as, having been to university in Bath all those aeons ago, I always liked popping across to the place. It'll be nice to see it again. Peterborough... um, anyway, yes, Bristol will be fun.

More frivolous things - I had all my hair cut off on Saturday. 5 years of rock-wife hair, so it was time. After rushing there, sitting in the chair for 3 and a half hours, then bombing it over to Hampton from Spitalfields to get to the first part of a hen party, I got to drive a boat for a couple of hours. Which was fun. Then off to the restaurant/bar for a surprisingly tasty meal, though I got knackered very early on and left with two mum-friends of mine, who had better excuses than getting up too early to get their hair cut. Such as small children.

The next day, after crashing with my parents, I sauntered into Kingston for a quick bout of neccessary shopping. I was planning to meet Mike at the cinema later, but this got scrapped pretty quickly following a brief but hilarious call about the picnic he'd been on the day before.

Mike: 'I didn't sleep much - I only got in at 2am'
Me: 'Oh, did you have a nice time then...?!'
'Er, no. I was in hospital for 6 hours'
'What?!'
'I tore a ligament diving for a frisbee'

So, after a quick shop, I made my way to Mike's to look after my poor, broken soldier. We watched a couple of movies, I snoozed on him and bashed the wrong foot a couple of times by accident, then ordered sushi. Unfortunately, this took an age to arrive, so whilst we were eating at 8.45pm, immediately afterwards I got sleepy and figured, seeing as I still had my overnight bag from the night before, that I'd just kip over (and try not to snuggle for fear of leg bashing). It was only this morning, leaving his flat, that I remembered I had a client meeting - and a public sector one at that. My jeans weren't exactly appropriate, but I had no time to change. A quick bluff with a different jacket I'd fortunately purchased the day before did the trick, though when my colleague asked 'Do you have a different pair of trousers in the bag too?' I had to answer 'I don't think that black-leather-look cotton jeans will be any better, to be honest'.

The meeting went well, I had no choice but to thunder through the points to get stuff done and dusted to finish off the afternoon eeks (on site from tomorrow, and a physio appointment first thing - perfect combo) - but it's all good. Got back in half an hour ago, and still trying to decide what to eat. An whether to bother doing hte washingup for my flatmates, seeing as all I contributed to it is one cup, and haven't been in the flat for a week otherwise whilst they've let it stack up. (Though I know for one of them it's a protest against the other not doing it EVER).

Hey ho. On with the dance. Or not, in Mike's case. Awwwwwww.