Well, that was a shock

I don’t think anyone seriously believed we’d leave the EU. But there it is. 

I’ve been in Indianapolis with work this past fortnight. I am terrified that come two years, I’ll be being encouraged to relocate (multinational company) But, then again, I can do my particular job anywhere. And the company still will want to sell in the UK as well as Europe. So perhaps panic is overrated. Certainly a 24/7 database needs admins in multiple times ones. 

Sitting alone in my hotel room, watching the results come in, was horrible. Much of family has

 voted to leave and seem unconcerned by stock and currency volatility (and how long will it last?). So many friends have a knee jerk reaction of wanting to leave, to seek other passports. I don’t have that option. Elderly parents and all that goes with them. Mind you, since getting back this afternoon, even my Mum has conceded that it was going to be unpleasant for a while.

There will be photos when I’m home. Because this was an awesome trip, and I’m looking forward to coming back. Indianapolis is great, and I can see why Dad has such fond memories of visits in the 1980s. And I’m not just saying that because I was 5th female home in the Color Run (29:39. It wasn’t a fast race, despite the flatness!). It’s really been awesome. We use that word a lot at work. 

I learned lots. I learned how much more there is to learn. It is like starting out all over again…. It’s exciting and scary. 

The world is exciting and scary. Orlando. Brexit. It was a tough fortnight to be away from N. But it’s ok with the good people round you. 

Here. Have some photos. In no particular order. 

​​Xxx

Advertisement

Bleary

The past two Saturday’s running I’ve been up by 5:00am. Last weekend was Brownie holiday: they went to sleep at gone midnight and were up again at 4:30am, pelting about like a herd of over stimulated rhinos. Or Overexcited Brownies. Sunday was similar but they took pity and were a little quieter. 

Today I’m at Heathrow. Flying out to Indianapolis via Chicago. I get to see T! But not F, who’s at TNNA. Still. I get to meet the lovely Lady Rosamund and I shall be delivering several copies of The Lady magazine and a Queen’s Birthday souvenir special edition of OK. 

Incidentally: isn’t the Queen’s marriage one of the most fabulous things in the world. How much do they still love each other and delight in each other’s company? Wouldn’t it be lovely to think that we’d all be so lucky as to have that sort of relationship? Yes, they have a comfortable life. But it’s hard work, constantly scrutinised, and never ending! The Queen vowed to serve us all her life. And she has. There was a lovely story in the Standard yesterday, about a chap who had an audience with her, having come back from Afghanistan or somewhere equally ghastly. He couldn’t speak for nerves. So she brought the corgis in, and they fed them biscuits until he was feeling less fraught. I reckon Prince Philip would be similarly good at breaking the ice. Although possibly with a rude remark. 

I digress. There’s going to be lots of hotel treadmill running for the next two weeks. I’m doing colour run in Indy on Saturday (I can walk it if need be). I’m considering Novemver Project if the asthma allows. 

I am going to be without N for 17 nights. Which seems slightly less worse written down than said out loud. But is still too long. 

Xxx