Thirteen Hours

This time last year: Waking up to snow in Pittsburgh, after a thirteen-hour journey to meet Coppell and Meathead. A day spent staring at Coppell and absorbing him, taking in the City of Bridges, getting to know Meathead and eating lots of high-calorie food. Excited, happy and hopeful.

Today: Thirteen hours at work, during which time I spent five hours at Westfield shopping centre chaperoning one-hundred-and-fifty schoolgirls. I watch the planes coming-and-going at Heathrow as we drive pass in the coach.

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