I know, I know, I'm clearly not snuggled up in the arms of my beloved this Valentine's Day night. Truth is, SO had a really crap day. Started with an early phone call from a client asking how come rumours about the sale of client's company, with SO's name attached, were doing the rounds. Seems SO had what turns out to be an extremely ill-judged conversation over a pub lunch with ex-colleagues, who took what SO said, spun it around a bit, and called a trade paper. Ugh. Especially as SO had signed a confidentiality agreement. I suggested a visit to a lawyer, and wondered how much our house would sell for.
Poor SO returned slightly heartened (better than shaky and heaving, I can tell you) and with just enough oomph to pour me a vodka and tonic (delicious!), open a very decent Pomerol and cook me the promised steak au poivre, which we savoured over L4yer Cake, neither of us having the heart for original conversation. I offered to wash up so SO could go straight to bed - poor thing is exhausted.
The trade paper is published on Friday.
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7 comments:
Oh, crapola. Sorry that happened. I hope it turns out all right — but I'm sure the stress in the meantime isn't the makings for a great Valentine's Day.
oh shit. . .
will not be making a trite comment on this one
His predicament has sent my heart beat racing.
Totally shitty and I've been there myself recently, despite being the soul of discretion.
Why is it the one minuscule indiscretion comes and bites the good people on the bum, while the gossip slags get away with it all the time?
ouch - hope all works out OK!
oh damn.
today is friday.
i hope they have a fire at the printers or something. damn damn damn!
XOOfn
(so tempted to type
and ?
so tempted. . .)
*resists temptation and wanders off*
Thank you all. Ziggi - does this make me a moaning minnie? A Woeful Winifred, a Sorry Stanley, a Pathetic Peter? Or a Complaining Clementine, or a Whining Wilf?
*wanders off thesaurus-wards*
Ah - definitely an Incipient ILTV!
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