I came home from work feeling very sorry for myself tonight. Iíd had one of those days when I was dashing from meeting to meeting with no time in between. Someone I am working on a project with really needed my help. I could see she was frazzled and desperate but I was unable to help because of my other commitments. I sat with her while I stuffed some food in my face at lunchtime and went through her stuff and ended up compounding her problems because I was thinking too quickly, desperate myself to try to get through the thing I was helping her with so I could be sure of not being late for my next meeting and I said something tactless to her.
It was one of those moments that as soon as the words slip out of your mouth you regret the choice of words and know they must have hurt. Unfortunately by that moment itís always too late to retrieve the situation. Bless her she didnít crumble or shout, she remained cool and got on with what she had to do. I have felt completely miserable about it for the rest of the day.
I had booked a hair appointment for two hours after our official closing time on a Friday Ė just enough time to pop home, pay Jo and nip down the road to the hairdresser. I got delayed in a meeting, then my colleague that Iíd been trying to help earlier in the day was still looking desperate and haunted so I tried to pacify and calm her Ė once again I got it totally wrong and think I just managed to make matters worse. I left her there in the end, I felt as though I was more of a hindrance than a help. Thatís not a nice position to be in. I got to the hairdressers late and without paying Jo.
When I got home I was fretting about my colleague and generally feeling guilty for leaving the office.
Then I saw Davidís posting. That restored some of my faith. Then he started poking about in the back of the TV cabinet and wired the Mac up to the amp and played me the new George Michael album (courtesy of IC Ė thanks mate!). That made me feel good.
Then what did I do? I fed poor David courgette (zucchini) and chilli fritters. The poor soul has had nothing but courgettes since a week ago. He has been really nice to me and I still make him eat more of the bloody things. Iím starting to think Iím really heartlessÖÖ.