Crocant, rain and seating plans

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This week has been an intensive one to say the least. Being in Cologne, having my dear aunt visit me and other irregularities in my schedule made it a challenge to stay on top of things. At least the phone at work respects my plans – whenever I leave the office, be it mid-day or afternoon, the phone stops ringing, my co-worker reported to me: “It’s as if people feel you are gone”. Other people find me without being asked to. An unknown company sent a Siemens headset to my work address. I don’t even own any Siemens phones nor does the office. I have no idea why this was delivered to me and had to do quite some research to even be able to contact the sender.

I busied myself with mostly event things this week. When looking for suitable locations, I learned that one hotel calls their meeting rooms “nougat”, “crocant” and “marzipan”. Someone must have been on a sugar high when deciding that. As “my” biggest event is approaching quickly, I started with the delicate task of seating guests – on paper for now, of course. Or rather on our whiteboard because there is a lot of erasing needed. Just like back in the day when I would host my dinners in Stockholm in a filthy corridor with newly laundered white bed linens as table cloth, I am carefully trying to sort people by language understood and spoken. But now also ranks and roles at the event play in, gender issues, age and business contacts matter. If you came to our office, you would see me and my colleague standing before the whiteboard with a pen at hand and scratching our heads, ”Do you think she will have something to talk about with him? Can we seat him so far on the outside?”

Yesterday, I had guests. Today, I have a headache. You do the maths.

Yesterday, I had guests. Today, I have a headache. You do the maths.

Something that Dizzeldorf seems to really want to claim is the title “Rainiest City Ever”, as shown this week again. It just rains all time – I even took the tram to work one day! On Friday night, I had to get some certificate to the frame shop. Those papers have travelled zick-zack through Germany to be signed by some people so these originals may not be harmed in any way or else I have a lot of work getting those printed and signed again. At the same time, I also needed to get them to the shop and of course, it was raining cats and dogs. So I wrapped them in plastic twice, put them in a padded envelope and tucked them under my coat, my scarf and my cardigan. I cycled through the pouring rain, it was wet, cold and disgusting – but my certificates were perfectly intact! You can’t say I am not committed.

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