She has some nerve. She condescendingly calls them ‘little sessions’, but then requests more topics to be added.

I churn on an idea and come up with something I think I might enjoy.

‘Fine. Sure. Send me over the topics you think need covering. But you’ll have to give me your reasoning behind the development areas. And you’ll have to remember that people don’t improve exponentially overnight.’ And then I add the cherry on top. ‘And you’ll also have to be willing to take some feedback from me too.’ Emily has told me a lot about Joan’s managerial skills, which I think mainly amount to Joan shouting at Emily through doors. I like Emily and she doesn’t deserve to be shouted at.

Joan chews her cheek at the mention of me giving her feedback.

‘Fine. Deal. I’ll send a list through this afternoon.’

With today’s wedmin all done and Joan’s list not yet hitting my inbox, my afternoon is oddly free, punctuated by a quick trip to the new coffee shop around the corner. The coffee is fine, but I am delighted to find that the food samples are generous in size, taste and variety, covering both the savoury and sweet palate.

Perhaps it’s the bewitching combination of sugary baked goods and caffeine (especially as the former was free), or possibly the fact I have escaped the office, but I feel liberated and decide to do something I haven’t done in a while.

I sit down to drink my coffee in the actual coffee shop.

As I watch all the people, I realize that everyone here is working. It would be gloriously dangerous for me to work here – they would have to reassess their taster policy – but it would also be just plain glorious. I have never been productive in an office. I need change. I need snacks. I need good coffee.

And then I realize. I have space and time now. So I put down the coffee and get out my phone.

I scout out more potential new stockists.

I email Michelle with a mini follow-up.

I make my personalized Christmas cards – a ‘Boast in the Post’ – available on my online shop. I hoped they might help phase out those awful family update letters aunts seem so keen to send at this time of year.

I write a backlog of social media posts.

I imagine what my studio might look like when I’m rich and famous.

I start doodling new card designs.

It feels good.

When the end of the work day eventually rolls around, I feel very satisfied with myself.

Normally I love escaping, alone, to the sanctuary of my apartment on a Friday evening, but tonight I’m not in the mood.

I could just accept my fate and go home but I don’t want to. I could go to the pub with work ‘friends’. I could text Mia to see if she’s free. I cannot text Peter.

I text Mia. She’s not free.