The earliest departure

For a night shift, that is - I left my accommodation at 2:20 yesterday afternoon, for a shift that didn't begin until 9:30. Why? Because I had to go to the estate agents again, to hand over a slew of paperwork required for the referencing side of my efforts to secure the North London place for K and I. Just the usual - six months' worth of bank statements, colour of my eyes, inside leg measurement! - on top of the eight page referencing form I'd had to fill in. You'd think I was after a job with MI5 rather than the tenancy of a small two bedroom flat! By the time I'd got to the office, and transacted the business, it was too late to get back to 'domicile-ville' for anything more than an hour before I'd have had to leave for work, and it would've meant travelling in the rushiest part of rush hour, something I always try to avoid, so I just stayed up in town, taking a slow, meandering bus journey to 'worktown', arriving about 15 minutes earlier than I normally would have if I'd come direct from base. Needless to say, the revised schedule left me feeling more than a little washed out by the time I got back this morning, despite a 'power nap' during my break last night, and I've spent the whole of today catching up, or, at least, catching up as best I can - I'm still pretty weary. Oh well, last night tonight, then the aforementioned three days off, one of which might well now be a 'social' with some of my work colleagues on Monday, as well as a flying visit to see K on Tuesday, in connection with trying to keep the travel concessions she gets because of my job alive after her 16th birthday next month. And speaking of early departures and long days, K herself set off from home in a taxi at 4:15 this morning to catch the first northbound train from Plymouth, to allow her to spend some time with her boyfriend in Shropshire this weekend. It must be love!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B