Time for a break. Since August 5th I’ve worked every day bar three – from 46. Now I’ve a week off! Happy days.
Don’t get me wrong, I remember looking for work and am eternally grateful to have this job, but Jaysus I need a break. I staggered over the finish line last night, exhausted, not fit in mind, spirit or body – if any of the three exist anymore or ever did.
Last week was Vitali Klitschko knocking the crap out of someone, athletics at Berlin’s Olympiastadion, Champions League, Bundesliga, and then even more athletics in Zagreb, where I was invited to the athletes’ party afterward but couldn’t go on account of my labours. In fact, I didn’t have one beer in Croatia!
For Real Madrid vs. Dinamo, there was no wireless and none of my USB sticks worked, leaving me to ring London with my the match report before the phone died at the thought of the exorbitant roaming costs. This, for a Champions League game.
An absolute nightmare. The Bad Blue Boys (Dinamo’s notorious ultras, not mischievous smurfs) were well-behaved, their worst being to needle Cristiano Ronaldo with chants of “Messi, Messi, Messi!” He seemed to see the funny side.
So tomorrow we’re off on a little holiday! Jenny booked it and it’s supposed to be a surprise but she let it slip so many times, I’m starting to think it may be a cunning ploy to get me thinking I’m going somewhere when, in fact, we’re going somewhere else. Who knows? I won’t spoil it by telling. You’ll just have to Czech back!