Sunday 9 March
Finally, five minutes to myself! Mr M really is taking this whole economy thing a bit seriously. He insisted we went to the horrible supermarket yesterday morning, and bought lots of own-brand groceries. V. embarrassing – I swear the check-out girl was sneering at the loo roll. And what if one of the neighbours had seen the non-free-range chicken? Social death, what with Jamie and Hugh and so on.
Then he stood over me while I made lunch, which frankly was quite horrible. Well, what do you expect from plastic bread, mild cheddar, limp lettuce, ‘balsamic-style’ vinegar and non-virgin olive oil? The boys rebelled at orange juice from concentrate. It’s not what they’re used to, poor loves. Mr M seemed to be enjoying it, although I notice he was reading the Weekend FT, instead of the Mirror, which I pointed out is quite significantly cheaper.
Anyway, he’s out now insisting the boys ride their own bikes in the park, instead of hiring the recumbants. So I’m trying to make sense of my notes from Thursday’s business meeting. ‘Style consultant’ and ‘personal retail advisor’ seem reasonably clear. But what’s a ‘motivational change manager’? Or a ‘domestic pictorial records editor’? Clearly need a follow-up meeting with Sarah, probably without the cocktails this time.
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About Catherine Fraher
Catherine used to work for companies like eBay, the Financial Times and FHM. Now she is bringing up her daughter, Eve, and finally getting round to all the books, films, exhibitions and travelling she never managed before. "Pleasure First!"
