we got a dog in December. she came over from a shelter in Bulgaria in a van with 19 of her other dog buddies, two months after her puppies all got adopted. from all the chats I’ve had since with other dog owners, we’ve lucked out: she’s calm, good with kids, doesn’t jump up at strangers, and is super loyal.
every morning when we get her out of her crate she is incredibly excited to see us both and it is the purest expression of unconditional love I’ve ever seen.
the routine is 3 walks / day, which exacerbates my previously stated feelings about lunch breaks. and it’s so difficult to pass a split bin bag! when she’s confused, scared or wants to go a different way to us, she freezes, so we spend a lot of time standing in the cold waiting for her to move. it’s getting better and I’m making my peace with it, but damn, hiding frustration from a dog is an emotional low.
Dishoom now have one of those dark kitchens in Hove, so there’s your last excuse gone for not moving to Brighton.
speaking of those lunchbreak thoughts, let me make it abundantly clear how little I appreciated people telling me how to make an omelette. I’m trying to dismantle capitalism and you’re telling me to crack open some eggs in butter. please.
I feel as flat as everyone else, and like all I do is work, walk the dog, drink and watch telly. grateful that the days are getting longer, and that I can start work at 10am every day to get some daylight in before work.
this week in particular it felt like most of my job is about influencing and steering; the slow pace layers of culture change and strategic direction. it’s great to now have a lead delivery manager in our little gang of three (DM, PM, design) focused on the accounts and data teams on GOV.UK. I’ve missed you Ruth!
bookshelves arrive Tuesday. once we’re not surrounded by boxes of books we’ll realise we don’t have any furniture, but that’s not the worst problem to have. C is planning the garden. I’m thinking about loft insulation. can you really imagine going back to an office 5 days a week?
this week marked five years since James died. someone called it the longest, shortest time; that about sums it up.
that doesn’t feel like a great note to end on, though it’s a good thing for me to think about. time to take the dog out.