The start, since I took yesterday off for a private dinner, of my penultimate work week. No chance of relaxation, my immediate boss will try to squeeze every last drop of working time out of me. And, meanwhile, they are still, after over seven weeks, discussing what to do when I am gone and how to get a replacement.
At least transport is working today. We have a potential strike on the buses and trams on Thursday, though. Good times.
For the first time in I don't know how long I have four out of four bars on my mobile. A perfect connection, you'd think. And then my toot needs two minutes to post....
Still, penultimate week at work. Good times.
I must be blighted, really! As soon as I say all is well with my transport it goes into melt.
We leave Bremen ten minutes late because of a change of crew and because only one toilet unit is working, without any apology.
Penultimate week. Just hold this thought in mind.
Urban Camera