Typing in your underpants

Hi all. Granted, typing in your underpants is perhaps not the sort of title you may have been expecting. But hold on a moment if you please. Dont click on the big red button in the top right hand corner of your screen just yet, allow me to explain. A double entendre of fun is to follow. This week has proved to be the most hectic of my short little life to date. So much so, that I now sit here writing whilst shivering under a blanket, suffering from what can only be described as man flu. Hence, my titles first meaning is revealed. The second meaning? An activity a lawyer engages in whilst staying in a hotel and not wishing to crease their suit. At least, so I am reliably informed.

True, the week has been busy. But unfortunately, I have a minimal amount of scandal to entertain you with and no negatives to bore you with. Indeed, after spending my first week in the Midlands mucking around in a water feature it was finally time try my hand at some real work.

My week was brightened considerably by having the opportunity to fly to Belfast on Thursday for a meeting. Given my rather awful sense of direction and my remarkable tendency to get lost even when just around the corner from my own house this had the potential to go seriously wrong. The situation was exacerbated by the fact I had to find my own way from Belfast airport to the meeting place. Fortunately, some kind hearted Irish sole helped me on my way. I do, however, recommend a phrase book for such excursions. Firstly, the dialect baffled me. Secondly, you feel a little rude asking the nice old lady sat opposite you to repeat herself ten times because you dont have a clue what she is saying.

Indeed, the trip gave me an exciting insight into the busy, yet enjoyable, life of a partner. I may be able to guess what youre thinking. A partner unlikely to spare a moment to give you the time of day? Wrong! In fact, I was rather shocked. OK, you may ask, why? Firstly, both partners took the time to fill me in on what the meeting was actually about. Secondly, they were the first to relax with a pint in the upper class coffee house after the meeting whilst indulging in some idle chit chat. The day was, by all accounts, rather pleasant. I even had the opportunity to browse through the shops of Belfast. Admittedly, top of the agenda was an autograph book for one partners young daughter, but enjoyable all the same.

For a light hearted bit of entertainment I shall quickly run this weeks antics of my welsh friend by you. Youll remember the one. He rather disastrously challenged a trainee to a drinking contest last week. This week he has taken to responding to the ladies on his floor with the phrase yes mlady and other such classics. Of course, his drinking habits have continued and he did not fail to disappoint at lunch. Whilst everyone sensibly ordered a coke, my welsh friend shouted Peroni please, a large one. A large one? At lunch? No youre right, he didnt just have one, but two.

This week summed up in a word? Tiring. (But well worth it!)

This week likened to a drink. Champagne. Yes, it really was that good.

This weeks most embarrassing moment? Unknowingly eating a nut, fully aware that I am allergic to them, and thus consequently reddening to such an extent that I resembled an Umpa Lumpa.