More running

I have started a brand brand spanking new regime.

I am running home from work every week day. That's six and a half miles every day, five days a week.

Then I'll do an 8 or 9 miler on Sunday.

It's so liberating. I am saving £150 per month compared to when I worked in Croydon. That's £1800 per year. And that my little bloggers is a fucking stack of cash.

Allied with burning around 5000 calories every week, I should have about a 2" waist come summer.

Let the good times roll. 

Snail Mail

My auntie contacted me today.

She contacts me about 3 times a year.

She contacts me by post.

How quaint is that? Snail mail the old-fashioned way.

I haven't seen her in about 6 years I think, and all this time we catch up. Very. Slowly.

So we cover the big topics. Ones which can be covered and then left to fester for a few months. 

What are you doing now, how was the snow for you, what does your wife actually do.

Three subjects and then pop a stamp on the envelope and put it in a mailbox.

Can't wait to know what interests her nowadays. 

I'll let you know in August.

A favourite day out

If the wife is at work and I need to get out of the house, I know the best way to spend a few hours. And that's what I did today.

After an hour long run around Wimbledon Park and a quick shower, i head up to London town and make my way to the National Gallery. A few Titian's later and the hunger pangs from the run take hold.

Near Leicester Square, on the edge of Chinatown, is the Tokyo Diner. This unpretentious little eatery is perfect for the lone diner and I timed it right today and bagged a table for four. The Word magazine had plenty of room to spread out and I flicked through, at my leisure, until the Katsu Don and cold spinach in sesame sauce arrive.

The simple rice. pork and egg dish and vegetable side fills me up nicely, all washed down with endless free green tea. The bill is just £12 and they don't accept tips. the best way to 'tip' is to keep on coming back and to tell your friends.

After the scran, I had back towards Charing Cross to visit the amazing National Portrait Gallery. this is my favourite gallery and could do the guided tours. I know the place so well and always make sure I go to see the John Singer Sargent and Sir James Guthrie canvas's of important people from the Great War. They sit opposite each other and evoke incredible feelings. especially the face of a young Winston Churchill gazing through the amassed politicians straight at you. 

Other highlights on offer are Jillian Edelsteins' photographs including Blur; Julian Opie's Blur quadriptych; Andrew Tift's stunning depiction of the Kinnocks at home; Pete Postlethwaite by Christopher Thompson and the massive, ingenious acrylic image of a photograph of Sir Paul Nurse.

But the treats are endless and as I gaze into the eyes of the great and the good it truly humbles me. It is a remarkable place and a perfect way to spend an afternoon on your own in London

Working out my notice

The resignation letter landed in my boss’s lap on Friday afternoon, plonked there by myself, stifling a smile as broad as Cheshire itself. It was the start of winding down and being invisible.

I am just approaching a week of being dispensable and it is feeling really rather good. It is getting to be quite difficult to fill my days, but enough aimless wanders to the deli or the library seem to do the trick.

When I do finally get back to my desk, the mountains of paperwork are not there, the queries too have been funneled toward the new boss. People are even saying, “Why am I asking you? You don’t care!” And it’s true, but there’s no need to vocalize it. Surely my slouched seated stance and distant stare out of the window is evidence enough.

I even woke up an hour late today, which made me late for work. But I still found time to arse around on Twitter at home before my shower, safe in the knowledge that no-one is going to give two hoots if I walk through the door late. And no-one did.

It is a bit like being invisible. Arguments are breaking out among my staff and I am sitting back and watching, like I am at a tennis match. And smiling. It justifies my decision to leave. No-one looks to me for a resolution, no-one asks for an opinion. I have another week left, at least, and I think you are going to see my blog count go up. Because I am writing them all at work.