Personal Secretary

I've never been very good with days and dates etc. That's probably why I was under the impression that we came on holiday on the 19th. I normally know what day it is, despite what my colleagues say, but this not having to get up on a morning or having any fixed timetable has thrown me more than normal.

David and I sat this morning trying to figure out if it was Wednesday or Thursday [it's Thursday, apparently]. I guess it's nice to be able to have those sort of arguments.

The down side of not knowing what / when sort of fell out of the sky on me this afternoon. Because we came away a week earlier than I had expected [I came home from work and Dave asked me why I hadn't started packing my suitcase...] I was more thrown than usual. It resulted in me having to ring work and explain that, although I did have leave booked, due to my stupidity, I was having to bring it forward a week and that, beg, beg, grovel, grovel, I would be on the plane in a little over six hours and thus, wouldn't be back to work for a week.

Anyway, back to the Chicken Little type realisation. There I was, gazing into a clear blue sky when the black clouds of work crossed my view. What shift am I working next week? Oh, shit!

Well after a quick phone call, to the tune of approximately E20 I discover that Ive got "Field shifts". This means that I'll be like "shit in a field"; all over the fukin place.