The ACME Music Blog :: The London News Review‘s hidden lyric competition is annoying me because I can’t actually see the bloody word. I must be getting back to normal if these things are starting to annoy me.
Took a friend on a 2 hour perambulation around Peckham yesterday. She’s looking for local details for some screenplay she wants to write and set around here. She liked the Square, with the Library and the Pulse and the old canal path. Then, after all the “I don’t want to write clichés about Peckham”, she came up with the idea that one of her characters could be attacked on his way back from the library. Pointed out gently that since Damilola died in exactly the same way, it’s not the most sensitive thing she could write about the area.
Shortly after we got home, I saw on the news that a teenager had been stabbed in the new Damilola Taylor centre at lunchtime (where is that? Off Southampton Way?). The police apparently found the attacker behind the library a few hours later. That was an uncharacteristically low-key operation for Peckham police then, because we didn’t see anything.
Ceej seemed to like being prammed around in the fresh air, snuggled up in her sheepskin and daft hat. She’s put on enough weight to survive the baby carrier now, so I’ve put her in that while I potter around. This is my favourite picture of her, by the way. It encapsulates her utter cuteness while hinting that she’ll be a right little madam one day.
Received notification that I have been officially relocated down to the Chatham campus. As usual, the letter was dated about a week ago, and I could have sworn that somebody was supposed to officially contact me for a “consultancy” session, or some such notion. After a long hard think, it looks like I’m in an impossible situation. If I don’t go back, then I’m out of pocket by several hundred quid because I have to pay back the maternity pay; if I do go back then I’m out of pocket for the extra childminder time that I’d have to find in order to make up for the two hour commute to and from Chatham. Not to mention the extra stress put on my relationship with Mr P, and the fact that I will see less of my daughter because I will effectively be working a 12 hour day. From where I’m standing, it looks like I’m being hung out to dry, not because I am in some way deficient in my work, but because I live somewhere inconvenient.
And nobody from the present team has bothered to acknowledge the news of Ceej’s birth, which leads me to believe that I am – unofficially at least – a non-person. I even got a card from the editorial team at CW, where I worked two years ago. People from the library who didn’t even work with me have sent their best wishes, but from my team? Nada.