I am officially back on the pay roll as of next Tuesday. My year of consulting as an independent business advisor has (for now) concluded and I will be taking on a new senior role back in the corporate world.
Out come the suits and shoes and bags and accessories.
The briefcase gets dusted off, the make-up essentials replenished, the nails buffed and polished.
The hair blow-dried (alas I cannot get away with my vintage swimming cap, not quite the professional look they are expecting).
Tights checked for ladders, jackets for sticky finger prints, Oyster card topped up...
Except. Hang on. I won't be taking public transport to my new office abode. I will be - horror, shock - commuting by car. OH has already taken it upon himself to purchase one on my behalf ("we'll go halves and I am named as the main driver but you pay the insurance, that's okay, isn't it?") in his enthusiasm to
And do you know what my biggest concern has been the past few days, since accepting the job offer?
Not what time I will have to leave home to avoid peak hour traffic.
Not how I am going to keep on top of the never-ending pile of laundry.
Not whether I will be able to keep up with reading blogs and sending out random (and often ridiculous) tweets.
It has been whether I can find a suitable route to get to my new place of work by bike so that I can keep up with BB and WW and the training plan for our next venture.
Bonkers? Yes, probably.
Bearing in mind that in my new role I am taking over a large team made up entirely of men, I intend to lead by example. So when I say "On your bike and get cracking!", they will know I am serious.
Or possibly seriously committed. To the job, of course.
|Shit - where's the sat nav?|