I am drafting this from a waiting room in number 10 Downing Street.
Obviously, at some point, when I become the next female prime minister, this will be commonplace and won’t warrant an over excited blog post about the fact that I’m basically at the Prime Ministers house but for now, I am pretty darn thrilled to be here about to take part in a discussion on how we can get more women and girls into code.
So far there have been no In the Thick of it situations, nor have I seen Dave shimmy down the stairs like Hugh Grant in Love Actually. Sad in a way.
In order to get in here I had to manoeuvre my way through a crowd of Japanese tourists, one of whom was wearing waterproof show covers.
Let’s just take a moment to think about the sheer ridiculous ness of this shall we…a covering for shoes incase they get wet…
**short break to allow for change in tone**
Oh, hello again, it’s me writing from my far, far less lofty perch of the dingy pub in Euston station as I wait for my train home.
Moments after I drafted the paragraphs above a little man came over to ask me what meeting I was there for. I informed him that I was meeting about women in tech with Daniel somebody and he sort of shuffled about a bit before informing me that the meeting had in fact been moved and had already happened. This morning. WHAT?!?
As I was wafting around my friends gorgeous house the very meeting that I came all the bloody way down to London for was happening. Without me.
There are very, very few things these days that can make me feel like an utter dickhead but, leaving Downing Street in the pouring rain approximately 15 minutes after I’d arrived in a bubble of excitement and self-importance is one of them.
The other my friends is getting a heel stuck in an escalator and having to be unceremoniously rescued after setting off the alarm in a packed Waterloo Station.
Somebody pass the gin.