Where's the love?

Mist in the Dollis Valley this morning. As the Boy Twine would have it, autumn is on its way. But not just yet. Once that mist was burnt off, the temperature rose very quickly to most un-autumnal levels. Even Cheerful Gay Guy who works in Waitrose and whom I see most mornings on my way to the tube station looked harassed this morning, though that still didn’t manage to completely kill his cheery politeness. Maybe he bumped into Creepy Swedish Guy, though I didn’t see the latter, myself.

The trouble with the weather as it stands is that it is entirely in transition. Cool – even chilly - early in the morning, but too warm later on.

In other news, bank-related bureaucracy has left me unable to get cash from my current account for the next four to five working days.

Having recently cut up and returned my Barclaycard and closed the account, I took it badly when I received notification that someone was trying to deliver a new one. I took it even worse when my Barclay’s Connect debit card was refused in Waitrose last night. It is supposed to expire at the end of this month, not during it. A phone call to the bank later and I find out that the card labelled “Barclaycard” which we grumbled about back in August was in fact the replacement “Connect Card” mislabelled. That has now been cancelled and I have to await a new one. The delivery of that will probably involve high farce in itself.

Where's the love?

Mist in the Dollis Valley this morning. As the Boy Twine would have it, autumn is on its way. But not just yet. Once that mist was burnt off, the temperature rose very quickly to most un-autumnal levels. Even Cheerful Gay Guy who works in Waitrose and whom I see most mornings on my way to the tube station looked harassed this morning, though that still didn’t manage to completely kill his cheery politeness. Maybe he bumped into Creepy Swedish Guy, though I didn’t see the latter, myself.

The trouble with the weather as it stands is that it is entirely in transition. Cool – even chilly - early in the morning, but too warm later on.

In other news, bank-related bureaucracy has left me unable to get cash from my current account for the next four to five working days.

Having recently cut up and returned my Barclaycard and closed the account, I took it badly when I received notification that someone was trying to deliver a new one. I took it even worse when my Barclay’s Connect debit card was refused in Waitrose last night. It is supposed to expire at the end of this month, not during it. A phone call to the bank later and I find out that the card labelled “Barclaycard” which we grumbled about back in August was in fact the replacement “Connect Card” mislabelled. That has now been cancelled and I have to await a new one. The delivery of that will probably involve high farce in itself.

Office Furniture

There is one benefit to the new chair that I have been given as part of the refitting and transfers in and out of the office. It has amazing castor wheels. With only negligible effort on my part, I can push myself a fair distance across the office floor. When I put my mind to it, I can go far enough to collide indelicately with the partition between me and the nearest designated ‘break out’ space.¹ I have not tested the spin facility yet. I am sure that this will be mostly useful during and after the Christmas party.

These chairs come with a multilingual booklet that purports to tell you how to use them; the ‘correct seated position’.² My favourite name for the office chair is the French siege de bureau which sounds far more exciting than the English reality. My idea of a siege de bureau has battering rams, peasants dropping rocks from battlements and boiling oil: the classics. I just have a chair with castors³.

The German instructions maintain that language’s reputation as one to invade Poland by.

The instructional diagrams suggest that there is, or should be, a head rest. I haven’t found it yet. I think they’re fibbing.

¹A range of odd, little partitioned places with a round table and a couple of chairs so you can nip away from your desk and chat with a colleague instead of nattering over the inter (intra?) desk partitions. I have discouraged the use of the one near me on the grounds that it is distracting. There is a range of other versions of this, some of which look like diner cubicles and one has to resist the urge to leave a tip when exiting them.

²Or tips voor een geode zithouding according to the Dutch text.

³Again, much better in French: roulettes molles, which sounds more like a gangster’s girl friend in a casino.

Office Furniture

There is one benefit to the new chair that I have been given as part of the refitting and transfers in and out of the office. It has amazing castor wheels. With only negligible effort on my part, I can push myself a fair distance across the office floor. When I put my mind to it, I can go far enough to collide indelicately with the partition between me and the nearest designated ‘break out’ space.¹ I have not tested the spin facility yet. I am sure that this will be mostly useful during and after the Christmas party.

These chairs come with a multilingual booklet that purports to tell you how to use them; the ‘correct seated position’.² My favourite name for the office chair is the French siege de bureau which sounds far more exciting than the English reality. My idea of a siege de bureau has battering rams, peasants dropping rocks from battlements and boiling oil: the classics. I just have a chair with castors³.

The German instructions maintain that language’s reputation as one to invade Poland by.

The instructional diagrams suggest that there is, or should be, a head rest. I haven’t found it yet. I think they’re fibbing.

¹A range of odd, little partitioned places with a round table and a couple of chairs so you can nip away from your desk and chat with a colleague instead of nattering over the inter (intra?) desk partitions. I have discouraged the use of the one near me on the grounds that it is distracting. There is a range of other versions of this, some of which look like diner cubicles and one has to resist the urge to leave a tip when exiting them.

²Or tips voor een geode zithouding according to the Dutch text.

³Again, much better in French: roulettes molles, which sounds more like a gangster’s girl friend in a casino.