Friday feeling

Friday always seems a relaxed kind of day. I don’t know why, because very often I work at the weekend, so there’s no special significance. I guess it must be a deep-seated response to the end of the western week; chill out, and let the world float by.

 

So I start my day with a run through the village where I live. The fields are filled with birdsong and the bright green of young corn. The flowers in the gardens are bursting with every imaginable shade of pink. There are no half-timbered cottages here, but otherwise I guess there is little that would look out of place on a biscuit tin from Harrods; the sort on sale at the duty free shops; the ones bought to remind the mothers of business travellers where their well-heeled children have been.

 

At my client, I remain chilled – despite the painfully slow computer, the missing information, and the phones that refuse to work. One of the guys made some brownies last night and Friday heaven is complete when he shares them out with our morning tea. Then the day gets even better when Faisal emails to tell me the initial response to my blog is good. I have to say I was a little worried about it; it’s kind of personal, but I’d hoped people would relate to it.

 

It is lunchtime before I even think of Owen. I haven’t heard from him since a text on Tuesday night, although he has been eerily around the edges of my mind. But not centre stage. If I never saw him again, I think I could forget him easily, but that isn’t going to happen – after all, he works for my most important client.

 

My friend Anna is going through something similar with one of the cricketers; an off-on flirtation that’s leaving her confused and hurt. She’s not a tough old cookie like me; she’s younger, softer, less worldly-wise. I told her to forget him and she believes she could – but it would mean her not coming to the cricket any more and neither of us thinks she should give it up just because of some arsehole. At least Owen isn’t an arsehole. So far.