Wednesday morning 9am
I have not been working full-time hours since going down with stress about this time last year. I was off for nearly three months and even after coming back, I have been working part-time hours, gradually moving up from four days (not working Wednesday) to four and a half (not working Wednesday morning) and then closer still to proper full-time work, coming it at eleven on the Wednesday rather than at nine.
Anyway, the time has come to work a proper full-time week again and so I got up with the alarm clock before seven this morning, took the bus to Forest Hill, the train to London Bridge and then a tube to Westminster, another tube to Barons Court and arrived at the library by a quarter to nine. I sorted out the early-morning shelving, receipted and processed a large number of new books and then took my place on the issue desk at twelve o'clock for the early lunchtime shift. At which juncture my boss approached me enquiring after my welfare and asking how I felt about returning to proper full-time hours....
...or rather, the prospect of returning to full-time hours, since the arrangement had been, she reminded me, that I should come in at nine not this week but in two weeks' time.