Feeling Sorry for Myself

Whilst I don't usually have much of a problem working away for a few days, today was my four year-old son's first day at school, and I wasn't there to take him down to the school and see him off. He's been at nursery two days a week up until now, so going to school isn't something that concerns him - in fact he was bouncing up and down like Tigger this morning, so my wife tells me, couldn't wait to get to school - but even so, it's an important day and I missed it. So I'm a bit depressed actually, the life away from home is wearing a bit thin.

To compound the misery I'm staying in a pretty grim hotel down in Berkshire, even more galling as it's £90 a night and in the centre of town. Unfortunately this is what you get when you stay around the Thames Valley - the hotels are so expensive, what with all the technology and telecoms companies, and so your company's usual £70-£90 budget usually gets you a run-down, "best western"-style hotel rather than the nice sort of ones you get further afield from the South-East. The only shop around seemed to be a petrol station about half a mile down from the hotel, and so I walked down there, Alan Partridge-style, only to find out they'd run out of milk and orange juice. Which was nice.

Still, my enforced misery and monk-like existence for the week at least means I'll get a few early nights and crack on with my UKOUG paper. I only wish I was there to see Scott come home from school.