I listened politely - the past week at work

Monday

All the day I felt unwell, breathless and with a tight constricted feeling around my chest, slight aches in my arms.

I put Duncan on the work for Sharon McGrath at Kingswood. He was very enthusiastic about it, writing reports and briefing the creatives upstairs to produce several alternatives (usually we just give them one option, so they were being spoiled). I discovered that Duncan gets on well with the upstairs creatives, which is useful to know – usually they are obstructive over anything to do with Andrea’s sub-agency.

Otherwise a slow sort of day.

After work Andrea and I went to a wine bar. I had one glass of dry white wine while Andrea had the rest of the bottle and then ordered another bottle. She hardly seemed affected by this quantity of alcohol, but at one point she knocked her glass over and it smashed on the floor.

Tuesday

I stayed at home.

Wednesday

I went straight to Piccadilly and the offices of one of Terry’s PR clients (Terry is our ultimate boss). This client, a firm of architects, wants to do some advertising. I was welcomed into a small spartan office and talked for an hour to one of the partners. I pretended to have read his report (there really hadn’t been time to do more than skim over it). Then I took a brief for the ads. Another partner came in and wasted a lot of time talking about design elements and typefaces.

Afterwards I went with the two of them to a bar (it was already lunchtime) and had a drink. The senior partner told me his life story. I listened politely but I was longing to get away.

Then I went to the agency. News that Andrea’s car had been vandalised during the night (she had left it in the back mews and the gate had been closed, so it was a mystery how the vandals got in). A slow afternoon so I went home early.

Thursday

A good sound sleep, so that I felt refreshed. But the journey to work tired me out, and when I got to the office I wanted to go home again. Andrea was out during the morning.

No-one had any work to do, and eventually everyone was sitting in my office talking idly. Denise (admin) complained of having no money. We all felt as if we had worked at the agency for most of our lives.

In the afternoon Andrea came in, and then we both went to a potential client behind Oxford Street. I went through our standard presentation while Andrea made encouraging remarks. But it all seemed a waste of time.

In the evening, despite not feeling well, I went to Tim’s dinner party in Clapham. James G was there, with Ava (a colonel’s daughter). Also Tamsin and Oriana.

We had melon slices, followed by chicken cooked in cream, followed by fruit and cream.

I felt so ill on the journey home that I decided to go to the doctor tomorrow.