Monday, June 06, 2011

You can use the first class lounge though, which is nice.

On Tuesday night, I will be getting the sleeper train to the capital for a bumload of meetings Wednesday, for which I have assured my agent I will be 'the charmingest motherflipper in London'. Note that I have been rewatching The Wire recently, and also that I didn't actually say that.

It's been a soiled dove's age since I was last in London (I don't know why all the swears, sorry), mainly because the Boy One has only recently started nursery all day Weds like his sister, making that the day I can go away and not leave Patroclus trying to run a copywriting agency whilst simultaneously looking after two small children who are constantly doing poos wees and sicks. I mean, she does have employees, but they are perfectly capable of sorting out their own poos wees and sicks, it's in their contract.

Anyway, I like getting the sleeper up, although you have to bear in mind the whole thing when the conductor person politely asks if you want a wake-up call at 7am is completely pointless, as the train gets in at about 5,15am, to the following station tannoy announcement:

TANNOY: ARGLE BARGLE BARGLE BARGLE!

... which works as a perfectly serviceable wakeup call all on its own, I find, in the sense that I scream 'ARGHWHATWAS THAT?!' and roll off the narrow bed onto the narrow floor, by which point I am almost completely awake. Then: meetings.

(I would be arranging to meet lots of lovely London people for coffees, but sadly it's looking my schedule leaves me about ten minutes in the middle of the day, then I have to get straight on the return train home again, booooooo)

I was going to write some stuff about pitching ideas, but my son has just done a big poo and REFUSES to sort it out himself.

9 comments:

Andy said...

It was a huge disappointment to me when my son was that age to find that fitting him with a septice tank was frowned upon.

Andy said...

Or a septic tank for that matter. Sheesh.

james henry said...

I've been trying to train son to excrete a fine dry powder, with little success.

Boz said...

Ten points if you get poos and wees and sicks into your meeting conversations (note: this may not actually help advance your career).

james henry said...

Yes, I don't think I have any BBC3 meetings, sadly.

Tim Footman said...

Maybe you should take the Boy One's poos and wees and sicks to London and empty them all over the shiny media meeting tables and all the very smart TV producer people can clean them up for you (or get their interns to do it, even though it's not in their contracts, cos they DON'T HAVE CONTRACTS).

LC said...

>>>it's in their contract.

She had to put that in because of me.

*proud*

james henry said...

Tim: Mmm, although exactly 50% of interns have millionair producer parents, and will themselves be employing you in five years, so it's a bit of a gamble.

LC: sir, you are a trailblazer, and I salute you.n From a slight distance.

Mark said...

You must live somewhere nice, to have to take the sleeper like that. I'm jealous.

Mind you, I did take a sleeper once, from Cornwall. Blessed thing spent most of the night shunting in and out of sidings somewhere near Plymouth. Didn't get a wink.