Mac's morning: picked up by devoted older brother, strapped into car seat in back with packet of Haribo and bottle of Ribena nestling on the car seat next to kite, bucket and spade and remote controlled car. Driven to Brighton. Sick in service area and conversation with irate mother who cursed said older brother and his need to fill younger brother with E numbers, instructed by irate mother not to eat "any more crap".
My lunchtime: hastily eaten sandwich in hospital canteen whilst meeting up with colleagues from other departments who have also been railroaded onto induction training, including Mouthy Maureen, head "cook" who is in need of a health and safety reminder. Worrying that sandwich just consumed could be health hazard. Reassured by Maureen it's more to do with "the whole lifting and shifting thing". Scald mouth on hot chocolate, tipping half of this down my (white) shirt.
Mac's lunchtime: fish and chips on Brighton beach, huddled on the shingle with adored older brother.
My afternoon: listening to the Head of HR and Staff Management drone on and on about stuff that is pure common sense, if you've half a brain. Tips included - don't lift anything that's too heavy for you to carry, don't chuck liquids over any of the equipment, don't lean back in your chairs, if the fire alarm sounds make your way to the nearest fire exit - all pretty thought provoking stuff. Think of this from The Office and you won't be far wrong. Comfort break (how I hate that phrase) spent soaking white shirt in staff toilet whilst the rest of the admin team (some coming from third and fifth floor) piled into decide how see through I had rendered said shirt. Remainder of afternoon spent with arms folded across still-damp chest (wish had not worn dingy M&S bra) because Head Porter kept staring at it.
Mac's afternoon: throwing stones into the sea, flying kite, laughing uproariously at older brother who mistimed wave on athletic run with kite and got drenched, playing with remote control car up and down the seafront endangering the life of OAPs and asking Matt why "those two men are kissing?"
My drive home: having escaped the clutches of Head Porter who asked for lift "as we're neighbours" - advised him that Herne Hill is nowhere near Nunhead. Got stuck in traffic as, at the merest hint of an "adverse weather condition" - in this case fog - London grinds to a halt. Took call from David on my Bluetooth who said he'd had a "bugger of a day". Dived into Sainsburys Dogkennel Hill for few bits and pieces and a Starbucks hot chocolate with cream. Worried about my recent need for hot chocolate since I'd given up coffee for Lent.
Mac's drive home: half asleep but woke up in time for packet of Quavers and bottle of apple juice on the M23
My appearance and mood: hot chocolate stained, damply crumpled around the chest area, weary, in need of a cuddle and a lie down, not in the right frame of mind to cook, hair all over the place, dreadful sight for loving husband to return home to. Bless him, he switched on the kettle and got the Galaxy out.
Mac's appearance and mood: over excited, covered in ketchup, faintly smelling of sick, grubby, tired, hair all over the place, not hungry, in need of a cuddle.
So we had one, sitting at the kitchen table, David saying fondly "Aw, she's had a bit of a day" and Matt replying "You should hear what we got up to!"