I’m up because Ceej is going through one of her bloody-minded phases of waking up at 3am and expecting entertainment/hugs. Being online is a better use of my time than lying in bed thinking: “Shutupshutupshutup…”. I can’t actually sleep because CJ is awake; and CJ needs to learn that waking up at 3am is a useless exercise. Mummy and Daddy aren’t going to wake up and play with her. Well, Mummy might wake up, check on her, and then go off to play on the Internet, but that’s as far as it goes.

Hmmm…all quiet, apart from the odd whinge and irate cough. Maybe she just needs to know that I’m awake and tappitying away outside her bedroom door – like the babies being soothed by the chink of the teaspoon on the gin bottle in Fingersmith. God knows how her father manages to sleep through it all. They both have an ability to wake up, moan, then go straight back to sleep.

Started the new job. No PC, no internet access for three days at the very least, and everybody chuckles sadistically when they find out what I’m supposed to be doing. Oh well, that’s why you call in the freelancers and pay them large sums of money. We’ll see. The contract is for three months initially, then it might get extended to a year if I’m good enough. I think I’ll be able to handle it if I can get a good relationship going with the relevant academics. For once the project management systems are good ones, and the people are very pleasant.

CJ apparently gave the childminder only a moderately hard time: and the childminder said that she was much better on her first full day than most children. Mr P said she was very happy and dispensing killer smiles all round when he came to collect her.

Seeing this little blast from the past in yesterday’s Graun brought back a memory or three. Apparently he’s lost weight and appears to have left his wife and two (at the last count) kids and started using public transport. I laughed at the bit about reading other peoples’ papers on the tube. The JT I knew travelled everywhere in his extremely high maintenance 1960s Aston Martin (av. monthly service bill: £1000). I don’t think he knew what a Travelcard was. I suppose whatever he’s done with TPD has given him enough money to pursue his first love, which is nice. It would also explain why a few of his most faithful employees got the chop a year or two ago.


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