Catch Up

A week where work impacted on pleasure and vice versa. The good thing about freelancing is that you can take time out to do other 'stuff' so Tuesday was a hedonism fest - the celebration of a 19th birthday with brunch and, later, a barbeque for twenty. No time to catch up on sleep as Wednesday was wall-to-wall meetings. It started at the National Liberal Club off Whitehall. The Strategy Committee of the VLV (Voice of the Listener and Viewer - not to be confused with the NLVA, Mrs Whitehouse's crew) has so much to deal with that extra-curricular meetings are a must. So much is happening that impacts on public service broadcasting. Jeremy Hunt is grunting all over the place and threatening to reduce the licence fee; Sky is harrumphing and unwieldy as Murdoch attempts world domination; the fracas over seven figure salaries at the Beeb has placed everyone under scrutiny. At the heart of the equation, it's the programming that suffers. Next, Lambs Conduit Street for lunch with my partner in crime who was off to talk to TV bods about a programme idea we've got. As we sat chewing the fat on an overcast afternoon, two of her old TV friends sauntered past, did a double-take and joined us: a portent perhaps? Late afternoon, a meeting of the Corporation of Westminster Kingsway College. It was a sad meeting: one of our brilliant VPs is retiring and the student governors are off into the real world after two years sitting with old codgers arguing about quality and standards and the application of policy to resources. I crept home at 9.30, happy to hit the sack... The next two days passed in a blur: conversations with solicitors and upping the ante with estate agents. The girls and I completed on our new house first thing on Friday. I got the keys at 10 and the builders started off loading a truck of equipment at twenty past. Work begins in earnest on Monday with the instruction that the place must be habitable by mid October: I work best to deadlines, even when delegating:)