Law firm temping over for another week. Even managed to score myself an invite to a colleague's tennis team on the last day! Racquet not included. (OCD attack with that word. Racket? Racqet? Ahhh..)
Today I rose late and wandered downstairs, on the last flight, halfway down, I got one of the bigger frights I have ever had. In fact, I could still feel my heart beating out of my chest about 20 minutes later and I was a couple of deep breaths away from reaching for the nearest brown paper bag (because what happens in movies is what you should do in real life). Scaring the metaphorical shit out of me, was the alarm. Yes, I knew it was there. Yes, I knew it was active. But no, I did not think it would be on. I was pretty confident that it was common knowledge I was home. A 5, nor a 3 year old can turn an alarm on, so the only person that was left definitely knew I was home. It appeared that slipped from consciousness (and I later received an apology text "Sorry, I think I might have put the alarm on". Yes, you fucking did. Seven hours late there, and my heart is still beating like a ticking time bomb moments from explosion.)
Luckily, panic did not take over all memory cognition and I was able to remember the alarm code, remember where the alarm was, and turn it off asap. Hanna: 1. Emergency services: 0.
The rest of the day was not so fright-inducing. An interview at 3 took me all the way along the Circle line to the other side of town, a mere Pope's wander from St Paul's. I didn't get lost and I wasn't late. Success. One half of the interviewing panel was even Kiwi! Always nice to hear that accent among those posh Brit tones. We always sound like we're from the paddock round the corner. With Jaffa's stuck in our cheeks.
The offices were beautiful, bright and modern, a sensible mix for an architecture firm, but something I probably wouldn't see much of if I got the job as I would probably be answering phones, entering data and re-organizing spreadsheets as the lowliest of the low. But I could wear heels to work and see St Paul's daily. Hope I get it!
I decided to enjoy the beginning of the setting sun on a beautiful day (don't judge, it's almost 3.30pm and still light!) and meander my way towards Trafalgar Square and onto Regent Street to check out the Christmas lights (trying to broaden my range as I have become mildly obsessed with Oxford Street's display). This is one of those amazing things that everyone should be lucky enough to experience: the historic buildings of a London street teeming with people, the gleaming sun shining through against the blue sky, casting an incredible light only interrupted by the red double decker delights.
Ending the day with 'Dr Horton Hears A Who', a cup of tea and smothered by a Pirate and a Princess. Not long till Christmas.
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