Bryan's big day off

I like having days off work, especially mid week when lounging around doing sod-all feels extremely decadent.

Yesterday was an odd day at work; instead of going straight to the office, it was off to the Marriot Hotel at Swiss Cottage to sit on the panel for a conference. My boss and another colleague did the presentation, but as resident expert I was there for the tricky bits of the Q&A. Go me. Trouble is, getting to Swiss Cottage from Whetstone turns out to be more problematic than it should have and I think I might actually have been quicker taking the tube into town as far as Green Park and then back out again instead of taking the bus. Why this comes as any surprise to me, I can't really explain, but the fact that the bus route covers a fraction of the distance that I would have had to cover by train partly covers it.

It was my own incompetence that lead to me missing two consecutive 263s so the extended duration of the first part of the trip was entirely my own fault. Even so. Changing to catch the 82 was far more fraught than it need have been. The stops for that bus are uniquely spaced out for London bus stops. Normally in the more urban areas they are (I guess) about 200 yards apart; not so the 82 stops - at least not in the Finchley area. They are far more sparse (can something be more sparse?) - widely separated. So when I find that the stop I wanted has been closed down since 16 December and I had to walk to the next, I was hardly surprised if rather annoyed to be passed by two 82s travelling in convoy. It was a bit chilly for the resulting 20 minute wait, but what can you do? In the event, I arrived pretty much dead on time for the start of the conference, but too late for the restorative (and free) coffee and sticky buns. My breakfast banana had its work cut out yesterday morning, I can tell you.

Still, the event passed well; the ravening hoard we feared turned out to be pussycats with the exception of one bloke who demanded to know why we weren't publishing the level of surplus the government is generating from the system. He seemed most put out when my boss swatted him with the news that we can't publish details of something that doesn't exist and that we are still pouring money into the system. He didn't like it, but he should have known better. One year he may be right, but he really should check his sums first.

Back at the office and more fun with PowerPoint for the next presentation. I quite like PowerPoint, but since I was told off for my suicidal tenant jumping off a tower block I have had to be more restrained with it than I should like. This didn't in any way detract from the mingled frustration and pleasure I got from being given a £300 performance bonus for the past few months' work. The money - such as it is - is welcome, but the context robs it of some of its lustre. It will also help cover for the fact that we appear to be on strike a week tomorrow. Normally I don't have much truck with strikes, but the recent pay offer of lower than even the Government's inflation forecast, which in itself is less than actual inflation, is just taking the piss.

I am off to Waitrose now to make a purchase so we can celebrate the news I received earlier today by text. More on that later, no doubt, but not necessarily from this precise source.

Bryan's big day off

I like having days off work, especially mid week when lounging around doing sod-all feels extremely decadent.

Yesterday was an odd day at work; instead of going straight to the office, it was off to the Marriot Hotel at Swiss Cottage to sit on the panel for a conference. My boss and another colleague did the presentation, but as resident expert I was there for the tricky bits of the Q&A. Go me. Trouble is, getting to Swiss Cottage from Whetstone turns out to be more problematic than it should have and I think I might actually have been quicker taking the tube into town as far as Green Park and then back out again instead of taking the bus. Why this comes as any surprise to me, I can't really explain, but the fact that the bus route covers a fraction of the distance that I would have had to cover by train partly covers it.

It was my own incompetence that lead to me missing two consecutive 263s so the extended duration of the first part of the trip was entirely my own fault. Even so. Changing to catch the 82 was far more fraught than it need have been. The stops for that bus are uniquely spaced out for London bus stops. Normally in the more urban areas they are (I guess) about 200 yards apart; not so the 82 stops - at least not in the Finchley area. They are far more sparse (can something be more sparse?) - widely separated. So when I find that the stop I wanted has been closed down since 16 December and I had to walk to the next, I was hardly surprised if rather annoyed to be passed by two 82s travelling in convoy. It was a bit chilly for the resulting 20 minute wait, but what can you do? In the event, I arrived pretty much dead on time for the start of the conference, but too late for the restorative (and free) coffee and sticky buns. My breakfast banana had its work cut out yesterday morning, I can tell you.

Still, the event passed well; the ravening hoard we feared turned out to be pussycats with the exception of one bloke who demanded to know why we weren't publishing the level of surplus the government is generating from the system. He seemed most put out when my boss swatted him with the news that we can't publish details of something that doesn't exist and that we are still pouring money into the system. He didn't like it, but he should have known better. One year he may be right, but he really should check his sums first.

Back at the office and more fun with PowerPoint for the next presentation. I quite like PowerPoint, but since I was told off for my suicidal tenant jumping off a tower block I have had to be more restrained with it than I should like. This didn't in any way detract from the mingled frustration and pleasure I got from being given a £300 performance bonus for the past few months' work. The money - such as it is - is welcome, but the context robs it of some of its lustre. It will also help cover for the fact that we appear to be on strike a week tomorrow. Normally I don't have much truck with strikes, but the recent pay offer of lower than even the Government's inflation forecast, which in itself is less than actual inflation, is just taking the piss.

I am off to Waitrose now to make a purchase so we can celebrate the news I received earlier today by text. More on that later, no doubt, but not necessarily from this precise source.