Another Friday Night...

Friday night was taking it's usual shape - I left work late instead of early, took Mum out for tea at the Tap then enjoyed a few pints with the regulars.

A couple of the guys left early to see a band who were playing in one of the other pubs in town, and although I didn't fancy it at the time, I had an unexpected change of heart about half an hour later and took a walk across town to join them.

It was there where things took a distinct change for the unusual when I met a rather nice young lady who accompanied me to a couple more of the town's venues. Obviously I've no intention of elaborating any further, but it occurred to me that if I'd posted this tomorrow, everyone would assume it was an April fool...

Mist again...

I guzzled down my breakfast and flew out of the door having misheard our local weather and travel bulletin this morning, but instead of embarking on a right old piss up, it was a right old pea-souper - an' no mistake Guv'.

I've posted once before about Barnetby Top junction on the M180 and that some days it could boast thick fog on the brightest and sunniest of days, but today was something really special. It was so thick I could barely see the inside of my glasses.

Following quite a pleasant day, weather-wise at least, I was surprised to see it had descended again tonight to accompany my trip home. The combination of thick fog and darkness meant that by this time I could barely see the inside of my corneae, but there's little else to do but get your driving lights on, keep a sharp watch on the road ahead and try your best home as quick as possible, but more importantly, in one piece.

Rather unlike the moron who flew past me at over 70mph on the wrong side of a single carriageway road with no possible means of knowing what was ahead of him. Why? I haven't the foggiest...

Tanks for that...

When I'm not gawping out of my car window trying to spot churches along the route to work, or finding magpies to salute, or squinting at an un-dipped glare heading from the opposite direction, my fuel gauge remains a constant source of fascination to me. Not my personal fuel gauge of course; that glass is always half full.

The petrol gauge on my car (and every car I've ever owned for that matter) appears to have a will of it's own. It usually takes about 6 working days for me to get through a full tank and it usually equates to about 450 miles worth, but the journey from F to E always seems an erratic one.

I frequently travel around 80 miles before the needle moves and often over 150 miles in less than a quarter of a tank, but have never yet have got anywhere close to 600 miles before the warning light appears. I'm always wary of leaving it too close to empty; firstly because most of my trip to and from work leaves me several miles from the nearest petrol station and secondly because of the time honoured warning that it will drag all of the sediment from the bottom of the tank through the engine. Surely, no good can come of that.

As often happens, I was searching for an appropriate picture on Google to accompany my post on the matter, when I inadvertantly stumbled across a reasonable explanation. So now I'm left without a way to finish my post:
a) Well that's enough of my gassing
b) Which goes to show that there's no fuel like an old fuel
c) I'm off to discuss if further with my pet troll

Perhaps I'll settle for
d) None of the above...

Missing Time...

I know posts continue to be a bit thin on the ground around here, but other than work, there has been very little to report or rant/laugh about in the last week.

Steve has been across from Canada for a few days so we took the chance to sink a beer or two on Friday night and catch up with goings on from respective sides of the pond. Strangely enough, three of us ended up in that club again, although I must confess that I remember very little between arriving there and waking up at home the following morning.

I'm pleased to say that by whatever means, I managed to get home with jacket, phone and wallet intact, although I appear to have lost an hour sometime over the weekend...

Gang aft agley...

...but not in this case, it was a great weekend starting with my escape from the office half an hour early.

A less than leisurely drive home and a quick taxi ride led to a few beers and chance to catch up with the guys in the Tap, then at closing time I joined the football team (no don't be ridiculous) for a few drinks in town before we all ended up in a club where, quite bizarrely, all of the dancers were apparently either from Poland or Lapland.

Saturday afternoon I opted to suspend St Patricks Day celebrations until the England v Wales match; maybe not the best of ideas in hindsight but the Guinness went down a lot better than the rugby. Well it did for as long as it lasted.

Sunday saw an early start to clear the house up before collecting Mum to inflict some of my Chinese cookery upon her after which we watched a film and the comic relief highlights from Friday. (Yes, I know it's wrong to skip the charity bits but I donated money anyway)

Best of all, I couldn't get a wireless connection to the office all weekend so I hardly got any work done at all. The factory hadn't ground to a halt this morning as a result so, I might give this normal working hours a serious go this week.

Who else takes any notice of mice and men anyway...

Best Laid Plans...

Having been on the receiving end of several well intentioned talking-tos this week regarding my excessive hours of late, I got away tonight a mere two hours late.

It doesn't take a genius to work out that there's not going to be a lot of work going on this weekend. Tomorrow sees the last three games of the 6 Nations and I intend to make amends for working through Englands victory against France last Sunday. It also happens to be St Patrick's Day which always entails a certain amount of celebratory imbibing on my part.

Sunday of course is Mother's Day so at her request I shall be treating her to Sunday lunch Chez Seany. We decided on something Chinese this year although right now I'm still undecided over which of my two best Chinese meals to cook (and neither are from the take away thank you very much).

I polished off a garlic baguette with supper this evening in the hope that my breath will deter the usual influx of visitors from my office tomorrow so with a bit of luck I can get another flyer shortly after lunch. I need to leave work early to go and discuss tattoo designs after which of course it will be time to head to the pub and work on getting my very own red nose...

Le mot juste...

I was genuinely pleased to hear on the news today that as part of a curriculum overhaul due by 2010, it will be compulsory for seven to fourteen year olds to study foreign language.

I was fairly lucky to have attended a junior scholl that taught French from the age of nine and our secondary school encouraged French and German for those who were interested. I know I speak from a biased perspective as languages were always my strongest subjects, although it still amuses me that I earned higher GCE grades in French and German than I did in English!

However, as I have grown older and travelled more widely, it remains a source of total embarrassment to me how the English arrogantly expect people to speak their lanuguage wherever they go - and to our complete shame, they usually do. I guess you're almost entitled to expect it from receptionists of large hotel chains or airport staff but I'm talking about everyday folk such as taxi drivers and waiters/waitresses.

It is something I have frequently discussed with my Polish and Portuguese colleagues and from their perspective, it is simply a fact of life that of you want any kind of reasonably paid job, then you would need to be fluent in English. I suppose we are where we are on that score but I've always believed that a little courtesy goes a long way, even though I may often be met with a knowing smile and an "aww bless him for having a go" type expression.

Admittedly I'm far from fluent, I'm proud to be able to mutter a few appropriate phrases in about four languages other than my own but if you're looking in Sis, sorry - my Japanese is still not quite up to scratch...

Catching up...

Following my recent moans about extended hours and overwork during recent weeks, it came as a huge relief to get a couple of days to my own devices this weekend.

Did I really take advantage of it? Well, I managed a few obligatory beers, caught up on chores about the house, slept lots, ate very little, watched loads of TV and then this afternoon settled back down to a few hours work again. Oh well, fun while it lasted I suppose.

Surprise achievement of the weekend? I finally got my name back down on the tattoo studio waiting list, but now I can't find the design I've been hanging onto for the last 12 months. I've given him a basic idea of what I'm looking for, but I'm going to have to dig through the piles of "work in progress" drawings to find the most recent one. Not so much mystery this time as there are quite a few people out there who know what I've been thinking of (no, still not the Hobgoblin).

For those who don't know yet, I'm afraid his appointment book is as busy as before so you'll just have to watch this space for the next few weeks...

Roxanne...

I can barely find words to convey my utter elation when almost every night this week, having left work long after everyone else had gone home (and probably gone to bed for that matter), I find myself sitting in my car on a deserted road, in a town I don't particularly like, watching the rain pouring down around me and waiting for every successive set of traffic lights to change from red whilst absolutely fuck all passes in the other direction...

There goes another one...

I was about to start with my now traditional excuse for not having posted for a week, when I realised we've actually rolled into a new month. So, white rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits; pinch punch; or whatever takes your fancy. Did anyone notice whether March came in like a lamb or a lion? Any ides I ought to beware of?

Unsurprisingly I've barely looked up from my desk of late; not even to notice that for the first time in my working life I appear to have worked twice as many hours in one week than I will get paid for. I've even been in today with another day planned there tomorrow in time for the big "go live" day on Monday. Still, there is possibly a trip to Cornwall to be had out of this extra effort - I'm sure I heard mention of getting a couple of days in Looe.

On the bright side, in return for our slogging away into the small hours, so far this week I've managed to blag Indian for supper on Wednesday, Chinese last night and KFC/Pizza Hut today . Can you guess which meal the extravagant Brits lashed out for? Either way, it occurred to me that perhaps I am now worthy of carrying my own sign...

Radar love...

Following some early mornings and ridiculously late nights in the office this week, I calculated that by Friday lunchtime I'd worked over 20 hours more than I will get paid for. On this basis, I agreed with my boss that I shouldn't feel entirely guilty about taking Friday afternoon off, or at least sloping off a couple of hours early.

Rather than head straight to the Tap (as everyone would predict) I decided to stop off in town and pick up a replacement for my rather battered looking earring. Not a lot to ask really, a plain capped gold earring to match the war torn one I already had and not overly fussed if it was for gents or ladies (the only difference apparently being that ladies have two ears to our one).

Unbelievably, it wasn't until I reached the last jewellers in the town centre that I not only found what I was looking for, but found someone prepared to bother looking. Perhaps it is the years I spent working in customer services that have left me with expectations too high...

Testing times, the sequel...

I checked the office voicemail from home yesterday afternoon, so when I saw the light on my phone this morning and the notification of two new messages, I never gave it another thought.

Message one:
"Hello. Pick up the phone. I've got all of your stuff here. No? OK, I'll try once more later"

Message two:
"Hello. Look you don't know me and I don't know you but I found your wallet in my wife's taxi and I've been trying to get hold of you. Oh well, never mind"

Noooooooo. There was no number, name or any clue as to how to track them down. After a bit of jiggery pokery on the phone I managed to obtain their number (not sure if 1471 works through our switchboard).

"Sorry, there is no-one here to take your call. Please dial the number of the person you wish to leave a message for. You cannot leave a message if you do not know the number or have a touch tone phone"

I tried re-entering their number, then again with the area code, then picked a number of feasible extension numbers just to get to talk to anybody, but nothing. For the remainder of the day, I re-tried the number every half hour or so and just as I was beginning to think I'd seen the last of my wallet, my taxi driver answered around 4:30.

Spotting an opportunity to leave work on time (well, only 45 minutes late), I'm pleased to report that I was reunited with my fully intact wallet only a couple of hours or so later.

So, the lesson is that nothing ever goes as easily as you would like it to, but have faith in human nature. OK, I accept that perhaps I have been incredibly lucky but this little episode also proves that there are still some decent people out there...

Testing times...

We had a great day yesterday giving Dom a well deserved send off for his return home to Middlesborough, which although sad at the time, is lightened by the fact that he'll still be down to see us every once in a while.

We started by meeting up for a hearty breakfast followed by a 14 hour stint of drinking, singing, dancing and generall silliness. It was not until I got home however that the silliness really began. I was unloading the mountain of change onto the mantlepiece then suddenly realised that my wallet was missing from my back pocket. Gulp.

Cue frantic re-tracing of steps back to where I'd got out of the taxi. Nothing. Unfortunately I had caught a taxi from a rank, so it could be one of several local taxi firms who provided my lift home, but nonetheless, I rang as many as I could think of. I'd obviously paid for my taxi fare so I can only assume that it is there that I've dropped it.

I severely doubt that there would have been much in the way of cash left in it but it has still meant my spending hours this morning ringing banks and credit card companies on a damage limitation exercise.

The point is, it also held my driving license which contains my address and several business cards with my contact details so if it found, there is no excuse for anyone returning it or at the very least, letting me know where I can collect it from.

So my faith in human nature is now put to the test...

The stressed run businesses run...

I swear they never used to advertise on TV until I needed to shut them out of my head.

Work continues at a similar pace with just a little under three weeks to go before we go live with the new system. Everyone knew it was never going to be a walk in the park but there are an increasing number of concerned-looking faces tearing about the place. Mine included.

It wouldn't be so bad if there were more colleagues, customers or suppliers leaping in to sing the praises of how wonderful it is, how easy it was to set up, or how dramatically it's changed their businesses for the better.

I could even live with a few horror stories if they didn't almost always end with "Well, I pity the poor bastard who's got landed with preparing master data". To anyone who isn't in the know, it either scores a cheap laugh for sounding like some kind of onanistic pastime or makes the job sound as meaningless as the one Chandler always struggled to describe in Friends.

And that's so not true...

Time out...

I've finally reached a couple of days where I haven't needed to bring a load of work home, although in all honesty, I've still brought some appraisal paperwork so I can get a bit of a headstart on next week.

With at least one day to my own devices, where do I start?
~ Blog to update - tick.
~ I either need to get some food in or start getting very creative in the kitchen
~ I'm sure the car is about due for a service, but I'll dig out the paperwork before I "invest" in that
~ I need to start shopping around for flights for this summer's adventure (details to follow when it's all arranged)
~ I'll be watching England play Italy this afternoon, but I'm afraid it will be without beer.
~ Tonight starts with an engagement party then moving on to a 21st birthday party to which will probably keep me out until the early hours.

So other than sending Carlos and Helen my congratulations and wishing Lisa a very happy 21st birthday, I'm not going to get any of this done sitting here...

Just visiting...

I realise I've not been around for a few days; well I've been here but I've been a bit pre-occupied (note to self to track down understatement award nominations).

In fact apart from another excellent cheese & wine night last Friday and a few beers watching Johnny Wilkinson doing his stuff on Saturday, every other waking minute seems to have been pre-occupied doing the all work no play dull boy thing. It doesn't look like letting up for the next few weeks either, so as long as I can avoid doing the Scanners thing:

I'll be back soon and bring you back up to date with what's going on...

You pays yer money...

Well, it wasn't my money to be fair but the principal remains the same.

I returned this evening from the superfluous trip I mentioned in the previous post and I think the term "adventurous" is probably most apt to describe the journey. In summary, Humberside, Schiphol, Porto, Porto, Schiphol, Humberside; countless hours sat around with little to do other than eat and drink; every leg of the journey ran late; the last leg of the journey had been omitted from some of the departure boards; technical difficulties meant we couldn't land at Humberside for a while (cue the "we'll be stuck up here all night" jokes) and to top it all off, my colleague's luggage disappeared whilst flustered staff were faced with a locked computer system that could neither trace the bag or provide a receipt logging his complaint.

We don't usually experience such "excitement" on our trips, but I assume they lay all the extra activity on in return for paying over ten times the usual fare...

Breaking rules...

I have to admit an element of shame in my household this weekend. Don't worry, the details of Seany and Flossy the sheep have escaped the tabloids for another week, but this weekend I have had to break one of my personal rules.

Quite often I will have a bit of a witter on here about having to work late some evenings and the fact that I have about an hour's drive to and from work often doesn't help matters. However, I have always said that from Monday to Friday I will work as late as necessary on the understanding that work stops when I leave the office, I never take any work home with me and my weekends are my own.

This weekend, things are a bit different; there is a project deadline drawing ever nearer and I find myself sat home surrounded by work to be done. I've even turned down the chance to join the crowd in the Tap for a few beers for that very reason. Despite the onset of modern technology enabling real time file sharing, video conferencing and the like, I have been told I must work from our Portuguese site for one day next week. Yes, that's right - one day, which in turn entails one day each way travelling, but the order has come from on high and mine is not to reason why (not that it stopped me trying).

To be perfectly honest, I suppose life can't be at all that bad if the only thing I have to complain about is that someone wants to pay me for sitting around in planes, airports and taxis, enjoying five star hotel accomodation and working in a somewhat warmer climate than we are enjoying here right now. For one whole day...

Winter's arrived then...

I woke up this morning and switched on the news to hear the first murmurs of panic that winter weather was on it's way.

Sure enough, I saw a brief flurry of snow as I drove out of the village this morning and as predicted, there was light covering ice and snow to be seen on some of the hedgerows as I drove across the Wolds. Agreed, you could say it looked rather like a picture postcard; you could also say that it offers a similarly appropriate driving surface as a picture postcard.

I guess it provides an opportunity for the media to divert their attention to from global warming to poor traffic conditions for a couple of days, but personally, I'm suitably convinced that the potential for winter weather still exists and I'm ready to see some sunshine again...

Don't shoot the messenger...

...although it has been hugely tempting to put my foot through the screen whilst trying to set up Windows Messenger video calls today.

Finally, thanks to Skype, I managed to have a clear video call with Little Sis and family this afternoon with the speed, reaction and clarity of a normal telephone call but with the bonus of video. Oh, and for free - watch those phone bills some tumbling down.

Yes, I have heard about alledged security compromises with Skype, but lets face it, if it's safe enough to be authorised for use at work, it's certainly going to be ok for any of the drivel I'll be communicating.

Anyway, must go. I've just put Steve onto it in Toronto so we could be up for some transatlantic chat any minute now...