I’ve just eaten a Big Mac for lunch. This is my second MacDonald’s in less than a week. Why is it that I never eat the stuff in the UK, but I get cravings for it out here? I’m sitting at my desk now feeling a bit sick and shivering because the vanilla milkshake is cold.
No exciting news yet from the Company of Chaos that I work for – meetings seem to have been ongoing for several weeks now with odd bits of shocking info filtered out every now and then about reorganisation and stuff. We’re currently awaiting the decision on whether we are definitely to give up the lease on our appartment and return to the UK or not.
Aside from that we’re now counting down to some well-earned leave. I calculated yesterday that it is going to take us about 28 hours, from waking up on the day we leave, to arriving at our destination in Tenerife*. In terror of this (I don’t do well on sleep deprivation) I have been planning my long-haul survival strategy, which I shall post here if it works.
*For US readers who may not know: Tenerife is an island in Europe that is very warm and sunny. It’s a v popular British destination, and we booked it before we came to California, hence the 28 hour marathon for us to get there. Great eh?