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Workin' 5 til 9

no, I didn't title this post incorrectly, I am working 17h00 to 21h00 every evening from now 'til the end of the World Cup *yawn* 
Barring a few nights off on account of some longstanding social commitments (a wine tasting, a birthday dinner, christening classes and Match 52 at Soccer City) I am chained to a desk in Sandton 7 days a week for 6 weeks... this being the case I am reaching out to my nearest and dearest, my fabulous friends and ever-so loving family, and asking – well, begging – for visits. Lots and lots of visits. Even if you can't stay to keep me company and have a chinwag please bring food or beverages... in fact wine would be best – I feel a situation like this may see me requiring a little liquid personality boost.
The silver lining of my imprisonment is that I will get four whole hours every evening to work solidly, catch up on admin and even tend to this blog a bit more often than in recent times. That is unless the flood of tourists that SA tourism predicts comes strolling through my door in desperate need of making a diamond purchase. Should that happen then I will be only to happen to neglect my work and earn some nice fat commission cheques. But I'm not holding my breath...
You see, Sandton City and it's (waaaaay more trendy) little sister Nelson Mandela Square have decided to cash in on the herds of football mad foreigners and stay open 9am to 9pm every day during the World Cup. While I'm sure restaurants will be buzzing and bars will be hopping, personally, I'm not so sure that Olga from Sweden will be rushing to Carlton for a haircut at 8pm, or that Pierre from France will be buying the latest Louise Vuitton man-bag after happy hour, or that Bruce from Australia will be window shopping for a wooden giraffe before going out clubbing.
The glimmer of hope in this month of graveyard shifts is that maybe, just maybe, the football mad fans will bring their wives and their wives will be far more into shopping than soccer. Maybe, just maybe, they will have used the excuse to come to Africa as the perfect reason to buy a little piece of it – a brilliantly cut, sparkly diamond. 
Anyway, that's my two cents worth... let's see what happens.
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