4April1997

4 April 1997
My dear folks,

It’s a thank God it’s Friday afternoon, going on 1700. The next two hours will be spent in showing potential viewers around the ground floor flat. I find this as much of a pain as the tenant who is moving out. But it’s the least worst option. At least, this way I get to choose the new tenants. And I’m only too well aware of the luxury of being able to choose one’s neighbours and to lay down the ground rules from the start.

It has been a very busy few days and nights, one of those times when one has to concentrate on essentials to survive, pushing everything that can wait to the periphery. “Prioritising” in management-speak! I put ads for the flat in the paper on Wed & Fri, catching most of the calls on my answerphone with a “sorry, I’m asleep; please call back after three”. There’s been a big response, although twice as many people arranged to call around last night as came, and twice as many came as showed any interest. An estate agent told me I was undercharging madly but it seems not. I must have had a half a dozen agents trying to muscle in on the act – an easy £1000 pounds to be made for an hour’s work. Several more couples are due this evening when I hope I can get the affair signed & sealed.

That’s been merely on the sidelines however. I got called in to the Beeb on Tuesday night for an extra shift - the first of three nights. The new schedule is very demanding, especially for the first few hours. On top of this, we’ve had the misfortune of working with one of the bitchiest presenters one could hope to avoid. There’s hardly one of us that hasn’t had a row with her – false, pushy, vain, ambitious & not particularly talented. In short, she’s a pain in the arse, typical you might think of the television industry. Maintaining any semblance of cordiality proves a heavy tax on one’s resources. I don’t make any pretence of enjoying her company. Fortunately, she is loathed by one & all and at least we have the relief of using her as the butt of our humour.

In-between, I took a lot of effort with the OnLine application that I completed yest & left on my boss’s desk this a.m. for him to initial. I can’t say I enjoy the process of trumpet blowing & career hyping – not that there was a great deal to blow or to hype. Applications closed today. Boards are to be held mid-month. We shall see what we shall see. The days have suddenly got much longer. I no longer have to cycle to work in the dark. As always I appreciate the exercise while I detest the busy roads. My little plastic bag of “diet” goodies hangs over the back of the saddle. My colleagues are astonished at the amount of bread that goes into my diet, especially as the diet seems to be working. It’s the delicious health shop bread that Jones introduced me to, cut thick with lashings of health shop vege goo! Seldom has a dieter eaten so well. I guess it’s going teetotal that makes the big difference, & staying away from fats. I have 85 kgs in sight, a weight that’s eluded me for at least a decade. I took some long-last-worn pants around to a dry cleaner today to have his alterations man put in a new zip.

I’ve had brief chats to Jones. She has a full house – ten people – including a former NBC colleague and family. The two children ignored the tradition that April is not considered a swimming month & promptly plunged into the pool. I gathered things have been going well. The most exciting development is the appearance of a new café-bar on the corner 100 yards from the bottom of our drive. In a little hamlet, such news is the main talking point for weeks – not merely the talking point but also the gathering point. It has been much tried & seems to have passed most tests. I’ll be there in two weeks.