Convenience Food

Discovery. The new firm has a canteen.

OK, it's not a cure for the common cold, but it floats my boat. I've never worked for a company that has a staff canteen before.

And it's not some sort of throwback to school dinners either -- which is good as we don't want Jamie-Bloody-Oliver going all indignant mockey on us. The food, while basic (think fish and chips, steak & kidney pie etc.), is good. There's a salad bar too.

The important thing though, is that it's cheap. Dirt cheap. Much cheaper than the ubiquitous M&S sarnie that fuels Britain's workers.

Moreover, it does breakfast too. Cereal, toast, cooked, coffee, juice.

I won't do it every day, but a full English is a rather satisfying end-of-the-working-week treat

Who Let The Drogs Out?

Two seasons of underperformance and missed opportunities. Now Didier can't stop scoring. And the world's best striker can't get a look in.

What a terrible state of affairs ;-)

All The Ugly People

It's a conspiracy and it's deepening.

Not content with the proletarian commuting masses being royal pains in the arse -- twice daily weaving randomly without consideration for where they tread, now something more sinister is afoot. They're all -- to a man, woman and child -- getting uglier too.

These foul creatures look unkempt, dishevelled, either mal- or over-nourished and not a one is the slightest bit pleasing to the gaze.

Some seem genuinely suicidal -- such is the clear misery of this woeful existance.

Maybe though it's mere consequence of the diurnal grind of the commute.

I can now better understand why one or two of the more sad extreme cases routinely throw themselves on the tracks. Better that than boarding the over-heated and over-crowded god-awful Northern Line from Camden to Embankment, or wherever.

They have the look of Bruegel about them. All twisted limbs and mishapen features. It's a horror, I tell you. Not quite a Bosch-like nightmare vision of hell yet, but it surely can only be weeks away until my compainions on the daily journey morph once and for all into extras from a George Romero film..

The Victorians had it right. Gather up the whole sorry lot of 'em and lock them away in Bedlam. Encourage paying punters to gawp and their desolation and in doing so feel gratitude that they have cars.

Penury

Moving jobs is all very well, but employers only pay in arrears -- weekly, fortnightly or monthly. Mine always pay monthly.

And this unfortunate fact means that with a two-week break in payment cycles and little if anything forthcoming from the new employers until the end of October, I'm (we're) utterly, utterly broke.

No really. It's bad and not the self-serving whinging of the professional middle-class aghast at the injustice of having to go a few weeks without the essentials like Dom Perignon or smoke salmon butties.

This month ahead we're really going to struggle to make mortgage and utility payments and P is the main 'bread-winner' who'll have to make the sizeable out-goings alone.

I know it's only temporary and things will be more than alright in a month's time when I'm properly back on track and the 'big picture is indeed, very rosey. We're motoring-ahead with the flat sale and all will be more than right soon-enough. Equally, we're both very much aware of how lucky we are in relative terms, but it doesn't diminish just how helpless I feel at the moment.

So in the short-term, if timing's everything, then mine's lousy, and pedantry doesn't keep the gas supplied..

Worthy Of Celebration..?

OneWebDay (erm..), The Ryder Cup and it's Friday (even better -- afternoon, so nearly time to knock-off).

OK, it's still raining outside, but there's enough here to justify and pint or two in the Shakespeare this evening.



..Now, we've just got to beat Fulham away tomorrow for real cause for happiness. And their drubbing at home to Wycombe this week augers well..

Thank you Tim B-L. Thank you Woosie (-ish). Thank you, of course, Special One.

Brownium Motion Redux

Sorry to moan, but another Meldrew Moment from old London town.

So it rained a bit overnight and first thing this morning. I can see that this is a somewhat catastrophic event after the glorious sunshine of the week. But damn, everyone seems so down-cast.

Actually, down-cast is indeed the position of everyone's heads.

NO ONE looked up from the floor or pavement all the way here. From my front door all the way to the office all Londoner's eyes were cast downward.



Now with some nine milion people living here and a further six or seven commuting-in each day, there's a lot of folk clogging the place. And if none of these people are looking where they're going...

No Jags, Two Dogs

OK, so I can't drive to work because there aren't enough parking spaces at the mo'.

This is a wee challenge for me as I'm long used to the (relative) comfort of the calm, air-conditioned cocoon of my car. I know that London is overburdened with noxious polluting four-wheeled vehicles, but the bus/tube combination -- something that's standard daily practice for most Londoners -- is rather new to me.

It's really not so bad and the journey is quite painless and, indeed, rather pleasant. I'm armed with Travelcard, iPod and a good (sic) book -- a tracy Emin auto-biography. But I've forgotten how random and Brownium Motion-like the Capital's commuters are, bouncing oblivious into one another.

Q: Should there be a pedestrian efficiency test as there was for cyclists when I was a nipper?

So nowadays the nippy little Mini is relegated to the weekend run to Homebase, B&Q, IKEA and weekends away. That's as it (economically-speaking) really should be, I guess.

But heck, it's hot in the city right now as we're undergoing a late September heatwave.

So tonight I pitch-up at home kinda hot and bothered.

My greeting this evening though was even more vocal than usual. Emmie's deep and annoyingly incessant 'woof' is multiplied by little Bela, our friends Jon & Lana's bundle of canine joy.

These two 'terrors' only egg one another on and encourage each other into increasing naughtiness. And, of course, I'm home alone and sans support from the wonderful P -- who has convinently redoubled her weekday social life.

And to add insult to injury, I now want to know is which one of these furry critters has chewed my shiney new Oyster Card..?

New Dog, Old Tricks

Well, I'm now into day four of the new job.

All rather impressive. A grand title and quite generous package for large NYSE-listed company that provides research and consulting services to the global healthcare industry.

While it's a big and complex company undergoing an exciting period of change and redirection, it's also very grown-up in terms of its people and processes.

It's so refreshing to be among a myriad of folk dedicated to their own particular specialism pulling together to a common end. So much better than trying to be all things to all people as was previously the case (I'm no finance whizz, nor am I a people manager). Moreover, it's just great to be able to get on with my own specialism in synch with peers within complementary disciplines.

I know it's still only early days and we're each in besotted 'honeymoon' period. I know too that things will get tough from time to time and there will be inevitable politics and personality issues to contend with. But I'm very happy to be in the right place for me and far, far away from the frankly petty, spiteful and stupid school-yard behaviour of some at the old firm.

Ugh, A Good One Though..

Well after nearly 11 years, Immie and Ade finally tied the knot yesterday.

Not surprisingly, given the couple's reputation as 'party animals', the do was a boozy affair and Pippa and I are feeling rather weary today. The fact of a long journey back from Teeside too is a contributory factor.

So again, I post about a wedding, but this one is important -- not just the fact that they are wonderful people and dear friends to us both -- but for the fact that Immie thought Pippa and I would make a good match and made a lot of effort to introduce us to one another a few years ago.

The service was lovely with Immie sobbing through her vows (ah). And the event was made even more touching by Pippa's sister Penny's rendition of Ave Maria -- something she also performed for us in July. Additionally, one of Ade's best friends Jason died in a boating accident in the Channel a few weeks ago, so the occasion was marked by further irony and reflection, but not in a maudlin way, but with dignity and reverance. I must also mention that Mark's best man speech as excellent.

Of course, as we always seem to travel sans camera, there are no photos to share here, but I'm sure other folk will send around theirs over the next couple of days.

And finally the happy couple are 'copying' us again in their honeymoon tour of Italy.

So cheers again to a thoroughly lovely couple, without whom Pippa and I wouldn't be together.