Who would believe that my Sunday would turn up as manic as it was today? I wouldn't. I like my Sundays to start at noon when I slowly push the duvet away, open one eye, and the next one a minute later, and slowly walk to the loo and find the bowl and pee (difficult to get the aim right sometimes). You get the idea. Of what I like my Sundays to be, I mean.
Today was different though. The complete opposite. My boss called me last night, right after my encounter with Akademi Fantasia, when I was still all choked up, of all times, and told me that he wanted to meet at the office at 11, to be followed by a difficult meeting at 3 with the bosses of another consulting firm we have been working with on a deal, and we were supposed to negotiate on the pricing (again, for the umpteenth time). Not nice.
So I woke up at 9 (I need breakfast) and suffered through the meetings which lasted until 5. Can you imagine? I mean, this is Sunday, my Sunday! It was supposed to be nice and relaxing, with a facial or a massage session to complete it.
And of course I had to further torture this poor body of mine to a game of squash, played with my 20-something partner, who actually went to get a new pair of shoes to get the 'extra grip'. Well, extra grip he did get, but experience still counts - it was a draw! Heh :) Daddy still has it!! Of course daddy is right now sitting on one side of his derriere because the other side is experiencing intense pain.
One never learns, does one?
That is my Sunday. Is Monday supposed to be a working day? Sigh...
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