Taxing times

Two busy days in the run up to conference.  Thursday was spent trying to get ahead of self, and largely failing.  As well as all the work, I had to get a Lib Dem newsletter printed and off to the volunteers who will stuff it on Monday.  Since I’ll be in Harrogate away from my printer, I had to get it ready in advance.

Which meant slaving over the Riso at midnight.

Which meant taking my eye off the clock.

Which meant my bloody car got locked in the Bingo hall car park again, and I got stranded in Chesterfield after midnight.

Which meant I didn’t get home until 10am on Friday, which was both the first day of Lib Dem conference and a family funeral.

Lots of mad running around, driving across the country on unfamiliar roads, turning up at a hotel (Chesterfield) and a guesthouse (Harrogate) in the middle of the night, relying on sat nav which worked – arriving at a crematorium with 80 minutes to spare – and then let me down – dumping me in the countryside 20 miles north of Harrogate at gone midnight…

Thank heavens for conference bars open till, erm, well, quite late actually. I really needed the, erm, several beers I’d had to miss during the day since I was driving. I didn’t leave the bar till well after three.
It’s all rather surreal.

And being in the conference bar with the last men and women standing is hilarious, particularly if most of them are way drunker than you.

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