Meanderings: February 11, 2000

Friday,
February 11, 2000

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig!

But not before I had a wander down Portobello Road. Nathan, cherub that he is, wrapped up the class before lunch -- everyone who wasn't staying behind to take the test bolted to take in the rare and wonderful English sunshine. Including me, of course -- I still had Kiwi boot polish, Pot Noodle and other stuff to locate at some friendly Sainsbury's or Tesco.

So after hauling all of my crap to Paddington and checking or storing it, I went on a wander through Notting Hill. Or part of Notting Hill, anyway -- I was actually planning on going to Kensington High Street, but P-Road caught my eye on the map. It's really all the fault of Bedknobs and Broomsticks -- that damn song gets into your subconscious until you're compelled to actually go there and see what the fuss is all about.

Which is. . .well, a street market, actually. Lots of fruit stalls, clothes, other stuff like that. A flea market was right down the street, and I found a cool bead shop and a place that sells artsy furnishings at outrageously inflated prices (I was kind of tempted to buy a set of coke-bottle-green chandelier crystals and turn them into earrings, but common sense (not to mention the fact that I can already pass a mack truck through the piercings in my ears) prevailed. So I got this cute multicolored Indian shirt instead -- hey, gotta come back with a souvenir, right?

At which point I realized that my back was really, really killing me (from lugging the carryon bag stuffed with books, the laptop, digital camera, coursebooks and purse hither and yon earlier -- me pack lightly? You must be insane), so I found a nearby Tube stop and headed back to Paddington and Heathrow.

My real surprise came later, when I got home , checked my email and found five semi-hysterical messages waiting for me. Rremember Monday, when I was saying that I didn't have to do some pages? Well, it turns out there was something of a misunderstanding, and the project manager and systems architect needed them immediately. As I read this close to 12:00 am, I figured they understood there was no way on earth theyäd be getting the pages today.

So much for Saturday. Guess who's going to be slogging her goat-smelling ass into work tomorrow? You betcha. God, I do love this job. . .

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