One day I will get my head out of my arse.
Today, however, is not that day, because I am going to Dubai for work (insert happy dance).
With the US stamps in my passport barely dry, I have been asked to attend another of my company's summits (their word, not mine) in the Middle East. We fly the second week of April and sadly, this time there will be no Molly prize at the end of it.
What there will be, however, is a shit load of work: around 13 journos and camera crew are attending and I am to be their babysitter, go-to girl and all round media wrangler. In addition to filing my own media releases. But hell, I'll be doing it in Dubai, so what's a bit of hard graft, eh?
The Animator is at great pains to point out that civil unrest is seeping through the Middle East faster than red wine on a cream shirt. And it's not like I've enjoyed stress-free travel lately (stuck in Paris because of an enthusiastic volcano, London because of the sodding snow and LA because of a missing plane). But surely a journey without a few toe-curling moments is no journey at all..