Nik lives in Essex, UK and works in London as the editor of MacUser magazine. The posts and comments on this site do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions of values of his employers.
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Yay for birthdays. Even if you do have to go to work.
Stopped in at Sainsburys for donuts and cookies on the way into the office. I’d quite gladly let the whole event slip by but it’s up on the noticeboard so there’s no ignoring it.
I felt at least partly vindicated in buying fatty food for having been to the gym already, so was feeling springy and healthy. Birthdays become less special when you’ve had 29 of them, so most of the day was fairly hum-drum and regular, apart from some very nice PRs calling up with best wishes. Obviously I’ve been in this industry too long if their cheat sheets even have my birthday on them.
Late afternoon, a suspicious crowd gathered around my desk to give me a card and HMV voucher. Very nice of them. I always get terribly embarassed by that, though. A couple of years ago I even deleted my birthday from the diary and made sure I was away on holiday on the day itself. They remembered, though, and did it when I got back.
No time for a drink after work as the tube workers are going on strike, in spite of being offered a 3% pay rise (3% more than a lot of people are getting this year). They want 5.7%, apparently - or at least the union management does. Apparently 80% of the workers either voted against a strike, didn’t vote at all, or was inelligable to vote. That’s democracy for you.
So, a quick scoot back to Liverpool Street, then onto a train that was half the length it should have been, and slightly delayed through the confusion caused by putting it and another train on the same platform. To stop us getting on the wrong one they locked its doors - with people inside. Just as well there wasn’t a fire.
Headed for mum’s to pick up a parcel I’d ordered, tickle the cat and drink tea, then out for dinner with Paul. It was so late most of Chelmsford had shut its doors already and we ended up in Pizza Express - something of a regular for Chelmsford eating.
In all, not a bad day. The official celebration is Friday, so it was nice to lat it slip fairly quietly by. By the time it has to be marked I’ll be used to 29.
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