So I wake up with a *stinging* hangover, but need to make it to London HQ for one of those brainstorm meetings, to act as a facilitator for the brainstorm.
Make it on time to find not many others there, but sitting at my table is the HEAD HEAD HEAD HONCHO of my department. Yikes…
I feel compelled to try and make idle conversation, but idle conversation, hangovers and the sheer terror of “THIS IS MY BOSS!!!! WHAT IF I SAY SOMETHING WRONG” (when I say something wrong all the time, so this shouldn’t affect me at all) are not good bedfellows. Mercifully, he moves off the table.
And the brainstorm starts. At first it’s *extremely* hard going, but by the end of the day, the table has almost bonded, and we’ve promised the usual crap of exchanging email addresses and getting to know one another. At the time of writing, no-one’s written to me. Quelle surprise.
Still, of the team members, one was called Muslim – which I unfortunately thought was an ironic pisstake as well, but no, was genuine – and the other was the only Chinese guy I’ve ever met who works in drama. As opposed to pretending to work in drama. Coolio.
At lunchtime I got to roam around Corporate HQ and bump into quite a few famous faces – literally bumped into a starlet as I was munching an egg bagette. Whoops.
After the brainstorm – and regulatory two free pints (which no-one else was drinking), stumbled into Marble Arch for a few drinks with ex-flatmate Dave. Which was cool – catching up, and getting steadily drunker and slurred. Actually, probably not that good an idea. Must curb the drinking. As if I go out a lot anyway…