Midweek

One more day to go.

The day started the same way as always - hot sticky train, airless metro then out onto the baking parisian pavement.

By the time i reached work - a 50 meter walk - my shirt was all clingy and my tiny little reptile brain was all addled by the acres of exposed female flesh ... i can't help it, i'm only human ..

I got in, and "Little'un", our newest, youngest receptionist (more of which in the second post, down below), exclaimed "Je connais le couleur de tes boxers, moi - ils sont rayés !" - "i know the color of you boxer shorts: they're stripey".

Like WTF ?.. much to the amusement of my colleagues .... to which i replied: "bin, c'est normal c'est toi qui les a repassés hier soir, ma p'tite, et je te remercie" "that's normal, you ironed them for me last night"- et toc.

She went bright red and said : "I'm just sayin' that's all, we can all see 'em through your sweat drenched shirt" ... gaaah i thought.

She sounds like a little terror, but she quite sweet and it was all in good fun - she gives as good as she gets.

Anyhow, i had my first coffee ... then my second .. went out onto the porch .. chatted to the trainers who were loafing around ... had another coffee .. and euhhhhm .... that just about sums up my morning.

It's too hot to be working.

My dossing about this morning really set me back and by the end of the day, i was feverishly making out bills and training programmes so that i could get away ontime - i skipped lunch, and was gone at about 5.30.

My boss always takes the piss about my "horaires de fonctionnaire" - my civil servant working hours - i just say that as long as the work is all done, i don't see the point in hanging around twiddling my thumbs, trying to look as if i've got stuff to do when i haven't.

One of our trainers left today - see below.