Skip to main content

Friday night

One should always love Friday night. But sometimes Friday nights can be beyond busy. Not only because sometimes we accelerate through our to do list towards the end of the list, but mostly because avoiding working weekends requires a discipline that frequently destroys Friday nights.
It is not 20.52 and I hit Canada Water, only one station from my departure. Te audio version of the Economist is talking about how there is no way Greece can work and will have to leave the euro. I did not even have time to think about it the last 48 hours. Not that me thinking about it is going to make a huge difference in the world but it has been such a present theme in my every day that it is almost something missing though a relief.
At 2054 in the tube you find all sorts of passengers. The banker on my left is clearly making a pass at the fellow colleague after they started about a vain conversation about commuting time. The couple on my left got in and brought with them a smell of parfume and they are clearly heading downtown ready to party on a friday night, as it belongs. The lady in front of me is feeling almost like me, but was not yet able to disconnect and keeps her blackberry on. As we get to London Bridge the train should be emptied of the last remaining passengers that may still be commuting at this time of the evening - very few.
As I look for the best way to unwind on my way home so I am more relaxed by the time i get home I clearly know listening to the Economist saying Hollande will take France in the wrong direction faster than we all think is not helping. But I like to avoid the noises of the tube so I will have to endure it. As I thought of playing a game I feared soduku was too hard and bubbles required more eye hand coordination than I probably have at the time. So I came here, typing away letting the mind drift as I wait for it to calm down.
I feel good - it was a hard but productive week. I earned my steak, even if not my french fries, but there will be none tonight... Time for more Euro 2012!


- Sara @ iPad

Location:Tube

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Time is what makes us different

I heard what is likely to become one of my top 3 favourite quotes on a podcast on Friday. "Time is the only real democratic asset. We are all awarded the same time, it is what we do with it that distinguishes us".  Now, I recognise that most of us need to work with survive and that is not democratic throughout. But on an equal opportunity basis, this is an interesting way of putting it. For many years I did not understand why MS thought my resume was so interesting. In fact, they chased me during the entire recruitment process, even though I had no idea of moving to London or Finance. I wanted to be a consultant and stay in Lisbon forever. But traditional consultants in Portugal saw nothing in me, and MS did not let me go. When I started screening resumes and hiring people a couple of years later is when I understood why I was different. TIME.  I was truly different about what I did with my time. Not necessarily the basics - choice of degree or anything. But really ...

Short one: D-Day

It is D-Day today :-) I took out the braids, and the clock is ticking. Bernardo will be in Maputo in two hours. We have plans for the weekend and so much to catch up on. I doubt I will be blogging soon, hehe

Blogging

I have not written in a while. As I hit the bottom I was afraid of what might come out and what might be registered in the web for eternity. But it does not matter. As I go through this stage I know that writing is probably one of the best things I can do, and keeping things inside one of the worst. And short of re-starting my book (or books) any time soon, as they feature about 27 in my list of things I wish I could do, this is just as good.  People used to write diaries, now they blog. I reas on facebook that people used to be upset if someone read their diary, now they get angry if no one reads their blog. It is a funny phenomena. I must say that most of times I think no-one is reading, so why bother, and even those reading won't miss it amongst all other things they surely read. But then a comment comes through, an email reminds me of something I wrote and I know that someone out there comes and visits my home away from home. For good or bad :)