Not All Heros Wear Capes

I wake on and off through the night, mainly shivering and calling the pups to my side. Before bed I binged watched some of my old content and made a promise to myself to create more videos post house construction. Looking at some of the videos I can’t help but chuckle to myself at how limitlessly optimistic I was just four years ago.

The morning alarm sounds and I give myself ten minutes to digest news headlines before refilling on coffee. My mind is cluttered with jobs for the day ahead and I can’t decide what to wear, I’m only running through finance with a client at a sewerage treatment works - Europe’s largest. So I pull on jeans, thermals and a jumper and leave the house in thick darkness.

On the drive I think about project finances for one of my schemes, I wonder if I need to pull together a business case this week. The skies open with thunderous rain which makes the drive tough. I arrive early, I always arrive early. There I sit and run through a dozen emails which have landed over night calling for attention and action. I think about the rates at which I charge and my age, and I make a note to myself to get some more acronyms after my name. Societies and Institutions associated with the industry have dwindling uptakes, I much prefer the Guilds to which I am active, but accreditation is accreditation.

Over five hours a great client and I right our world of schemes. He’s an excellent mentor and great bandmate to deliver with.

I have a few calls then hit the road back before the onslaught of christmas traffic.

The roads are silly, with middle lane hoggers, car loads of people unable to maintain speed, convoys of lorries, suvs with reindeer ears flapping. I drive a little slower than the limit, ever improving fuel consumption and lowering emissions.

Arriving home I see Andrews car in the drive. He and his father are engaged in updates, I hug them both and set up my laptop to complete a forecast and prepare for a presentation to a reservoir panel engineer in the morning.

It’s so cold, the pups wear their jackets and I layer blankets while watching my fingers turn blue as I type. Then, so excited to communicate back to my baby giraffe I log onto Paper Chase’s website and order recycled paper and stationary for delivery in the morning.

One of my business partners calls, something has happened and we need a catch up. I can’t attend a meeting on friday due to builder commitments. I’m tired, so tired, of all sorts of things that are going on. Through my frustrations, at times when I think “damn, I wish you just listened to what I have to say” it’s normally born out of the fact that I don’t actually have the bandwidth to bother with pleasantries. When I think “Mate, you can’t call me that” I think about all the times I answer the phone saying “hello darling”. I’ve got a list of concerns to work on through Christmas and unpick, journal. I plan to be lakeside in the hills for over a week, mainly focusing on running, yoga, journaling and hill walking.

Papa Murf, a retired corporate leader, debriefs us on the day and then sets out the plans for tomorrow. He’s fantastic, clear, concise, he repeats the key messages a few times in different ways then asks questions for us to relay it back. We discover that we can work something out tomorrow and he showers and heads home. I make a note that we’re going to need to get him a damn awesome Christmas gift!

We are due a visit from a Gas Engineer to check out the boiler at some point either today or tomorrow. Tired, I pack up my laptop, make a cup of tea and head upstairs to quieten my mind. I search for hot water bottles for Amazon Prime delivery tomorrow and as I decide on covers there’s a knock at the door. It’s the gas engineer! Twenty minutes and forty pounds later I repeatedly thank him as he wishes us a Merry Christmas and I lean on a hot radiator. Not all heroes wear capes.

Patricia SnookComment