Monday 10 June 2024 in 2024

By 7:15 am, I was at my desk, a strong coffee (two sugars, essential) warming my hands. Mornings are for emails and reports, a well-worn routine. Today, however, a new client application sparked my interest - a local bakery looking to expand.
Around 11.30 am, my stomach started its familiar grumbling. Sharon (office partner-in-crime) suggested our usual lunch run - Vietnamese Bahn Mi sandwiches (a symphony of flavours and seriously, the best!). We devoured them in the break room, catching up on office gossip. The buzz this time was electric – apparently, Mr Mustard (not his real name for obvious reasons), the notoriously uptight guy from HR, was seen leaving a very swanky hotel late Saturday night!
“The Beaumont, in Mayfair!” Why does Sharon always seem to have the best gossip from the most unexpected places? Apparently, he looked anything but uptight – disheveled and dodgy. The image was both hilarious and weirdly titillating. Mr Mustard, the man who could write a disciplinary report for looking at a stapler the wrong way, cavorting around Mayfair in the wee small hours? What?
The afternoon was a blur of client calls, data analysis, and a particularly tricky tax document that had me reaching for the aspirin. But by 4 pm, I’d finally ticked off my biggest goal - finalising the bakery’s financial projections. I used the last part of the day to put together a welcome package for the owners.
Maybe it was the success with the project, but I was tempted to ditch the gym and head straight to a local pottery class.
But nervousness held me back. The thought of being the only person there without a partner/friend, a newbie surrounded by seasoned potters, wasn’t exactly comforting. I don’t have many friends with free evenings, and Sharon, bless her heart, isn’t exactly the most artistically inclined person. Maybe tomorrow night I can gather the courage to face the pottery wheel, even if it means going solo.