Oh, great timing.
On Saturday morning, we fly to Peru for two and a half weeks. You can therefore picture the flurry of preparatory activities, as we feverishly draw up To Do lists, and audit our entire wardrobes for suitable all-weather clothing.
I wasn’t therefore best pleased to discover, just four days ago, that my presence would be required in Paris this week. Don’t they know I’ve got T-shirts to iron? But needs must, and I am nothing if not 101% committed to maintaining optimal levels of client satisfaction, hem hem.
I’ll be flying out to manky old Charles De Gaulle this afternoon, and flying back in to dynamic, thrusting Nottingham East Midlands tomorrow evening. (I guess that’s what they call a “flying visit”.) We then leave for London on Friday afternoon, in readiness for a Saturday morning flight from Heathrow to Lima, via Miami.
Naturally, this means that blogging will be taking something of a back seat this week. You know how it is.
(Although fear not: I’ll be writing up that Magic Band/Wreckless Eric gig before I go, even if it kills me.)
While I’m away, there may be guest blogging; I have a notional team in mind, but still need to get the invites mailed out. As none of these people know that I’m about to invite them, it does all rather depend on the uptake.
Up and away, then. The dizzy glamour of the departure lounge beckons.
troubled diva 