This week has to be the shortest week in the history of Februarys.
I have resigned myself to the fact that I will not get everything done, and hope to God that no one will notice.
This week is frantically short because:
* Thomas arrives tomorrow.
* My company’s biennial conference is being held from Thursday to Saturday in Leura, with Tuesday being devoted to finalising all details with all members of the Conference Committee (to which I belong).
* Staffy has asked to drop by on Wednesday night.
* My mates Emily and Len have invited me and Thomas to see a play in Newtown on Wednesday night.
* My friends Lissy and David’s engagement party is on Saturday night.
* My work mate Michael is getting married to his beloved Lara on Sunday night.
* My late grandmother Ly Ly’s birthday is on Sunday.
The week has already started badly, with an unexpected 15-floor ascent via the fire stairs to my floor in my office building. According to my sources, there was a power failure / disruption over the weekend, rendering only 1 of the 6 lifts in working order. Tired of waiting for a lift along with at least 60 other colleagues, our Risk Manager and I took the lift to Level 12 and hiked up 15 flights of stairs (or 30 half flights) to Level 27. By the time I reached my desk, I couldn’t feel my knees, nor could I breathe, and I felt like I needed another 2 showers to rid myself of the lather of sweat that was pooling around my feet.
The rest of today was a blur, with Michael’s quiet panic becoming contagious. Michael is taking leave from COB on Thursday to get married and enjoy his honeymoon, and his quiet panic is starting to affect me. With my work load piling up, I became confused in what I needed to send out to whom (especially when I’m constantly interrupted in the middle of tasks) and wound up confusing the people I was sending emails to. As I was going to be out of the office all day tomorrow, I stayed at work until 9pm to get some moments of peace and made a concerted effort to clear my slate as much as possible.
Thomas is arriving at 9.30am tomorrow, and I am due in head office for a Conference Committee Meeting from 7.30am to finalise all details. It’s a day away from my work load that I can barely afford, but there is only one of me and I can only be at one place at a time.
As much as I have quietly moaned about the amount of work I have done for the Conference, I am very much looking forward to the event. This is my second company conference, and I well remember how much fun the last one was. And having been party to all the inside goss and seeing how this massive event is organised (over 200 company employees will be attending), here’s hoping the event will be well received by all.
Aside from organising a large part of the entertainment and the gifts in the welcome pack, I have also been tasked with the responsibility of acting as the Sergeant At Arms. The role is to keep an eye on the proceedings and call out anyone who has “misbehaved” or done something memorable for one reason or another, and collect “fines” and “penalties” for these deeds. All proceeds will be donated to the company’s charity Redkite. It should be a fun role, one that I am sharing with another colleague who is a barrel of laughs.
With the conference concluding on Saturday afternoon, I will barely have enough time to fly home from Leura to St Leonards in my little yellow Tom Cruze to collect Thomas for Lissy and David’s engagement party in Kurrajong. That’s already a lot of driving in one day, so I’m kind of glad I’m not drinking that night.
I’m hoping I’ll be able to sleep in a little on Sunday before preparing myself for Michael and Lara’s wedding. Luckily, the reception is being held at Luna Park, which is a very short distance from home. Sunday night wedding receptions are notoriously dangerous for Monday morning meetings – I am going to have to watch what I drink on Sunday night to ensure I am bright eyed and bushy tailed for Monday!
With everything that is going on, I am bound to let someone down, and the worst part is I will be letting my Dad down. Dad has very few things that he expects me and my sisters to observe, and Ly Ly’s birthday is one that is especially dear to him. Dad and his mother were very close, and every year on Ly Ly’s birthday, it is a family affair that is a must-show. Whilst Dad seemed to be understanding about the clashing commitments in my diary when I informed him last night, I know he is still disappointed in me.
Wouldn’t it be nice if there were 2 or more of me for this week only? I need a holiday!