Well V came good again. So we’re good, I guess. Got lots of stuff done in the garden, at least.
Attending the company seminar, at an old country house called Sørupgård. Nice enough place. Seminars… I’ve done a dozen or so, methinks. Don’t care much for them anymore – all has been said and done, and there’re only so many times one can define ones person. Or, rather, if at 40 you haven’t figured yourself out, forget it. Or if you haven’t figured those around you out, same applies. Still I go, of course, if only because others seem to want me to and find it beneficial in their own regard, the least I can do is try to ensure they get as much out of it as possible. My personal opinion I keep to myself, as well as my own company; retired to my room between end-of-session and dinner, to watch the F1 race out of Singapore that I’d downloaded. But will of course, in the interest of my career, go and have a beer and a chat after said dinner. All part of a greater plan, take me to the brink of retirement with the positive reviews of my fellow co-workers. Again, who seem to get more of this than I. I can respect that. Really all I can do.
Thinking back to – totally unrelated – that last paragraph of the Great Gatsby. “That’s my Middle West”, etc. God, such a wonderful prosaic end to that book.