15 followers
136 daily readers
rank of 75
Receive an e-mail notification of new posts on this site:
|
|
|
Work Report - This blog originally focused on work, but it's now focusing on the collection of quotes I've accumulated.
Mike Crowl blogs in two places on Orble, and more than two on Blogger. His wife thinks he writes too much.
I spent today in a ‘new’ office, with a couple of other guys (who were in and out all the time, so I had some time on my own as well) and though it was a little cooler than the office I’ve been in, it was definitely more pleasant an atmosphere. I prefer to be in a cooler environment, rather than one that’s hot. I’ve been suffering from blocked nasal passages in the last week or so, and humid indoor environments tend to do this to me. It can’t be healthy be locked up in a hothouse all day, anyway, quite apart from the nasty cough one other worker had, and the ‘flu that someone else was getting over.
In the new office I’m no longer next to the copier, which means I have to traipse through two doors to get to it. That’s fine; I can certainly do with the exercise. Since I started this job I haven’t had nearly enough. Starting at eight means I’m not going swimming in the mornings anymore – although the cold dark mornings don’t help either – and I have to make myself walk to work. Previously, it was a normal part of my day to walk for 25-30 minutes, to get to work.
The office warmed up as the day went on anyway. After a very cold day yesterday – with an icy gale roaring around – this morning was chilly, and I thought I wasn’t going to get warm. However, the sun came up in due course, warmed up the office across from me, and that warmth spread into our office, so that by mid-afternoon or so, it was very pleasant
[ Click here to read more ]
I’m not moving to desk three – or desk anything else that I’ve been to before. Nor am I moving to a new desk stuck in the corner, as I said yesterday. Instead, I’ve moved to an office a couple of doors up, with a couple of guys who are only there some of the time. It’s quite spacious, not particularly warm (but it was getting very stuffy for me in the other big office where they complain about
how cold they are a lot) and I’ve got enough room to swing a cat. It’s not on the sunny side of the building, but I believe that gets really hot. One of the guys is someone whose company I enjoy – friendly, easy-going, father of one and soon to be father-of-two, no hang-ups, outgoing and generous. And across the corridor (where the cat would fly off to if I let it go) is another guy I get on well with. So all in all, even though it was a dusty move (the computer and desk hadn’t been cleaned in some time) it’s a good move, and will make my last eight days (eight!) in the place more enjoyable, I believe.
Incidentally, you can find a nice article about swinging a cat at Green Ash. The picture comes from there too.
I'm on the move again. To yet another desk. I've lost count of how many that is - six? - seven?
It's the problem with being 'the temp.' You have no rights. And since if I don't move, the new office manager won't have anywhere to sit, I supposed I'd better bow to the inevitable
[ Click here to read more ]
Listening to David James play Liszt’s Piano Sonata on the radio today, I have several thoughts about the work involved in playing such a piece. When I was younger, I used to play it. Not very well, but up to a reasonable standard. I could get through it without expiring from the effort, and I could play the heavy sections without feeling as though my arms were going to fall off. I used to fudge my way through some of the speedier passages, but that wasn’t unusual for me. Stick the pedal down and nobody will notice the difference, was a theory I think I must have had.
Hearing it again today, I thought how much sheer muscle you have to have to play this piece (and many others like it). It’s orchestral in scale, with huge
climaxes, and the only way to get that huge sound is to hammer the piano – a sort of sound battle between two forces.
Not only do you need plenty of oomph, but you also need to be able to play some running passages not lightly, but with considerable weight. This is a difficult technique in itself
[ Click here to read more ]
I've been doing quite a bit of music transcription since I left my last job, using the Sibelius program. (By music transcription I mean scanning music into the computer, moving it from there into Sibelius, and then shifting it up or down a key or two. A slightly more complex task than it sounds, but enjoyable.)
Sibelius is one of the joys of my life (the program, I mean, not the composer), and certainly the best (and most expensive) software purchase I've ever made. It's in current reincarnation there doesn't seem to be anything they haven't
thought of, and while some of it may be more fiddly to do on the computer than it would be to write by hand, it certainly comes out looking better
[ Click here to read more ]
The trouble with PaperPort, the system our office uses for turning scanned documents into files usable in Docushare, is that while it's downloading the scanned document onto the screen, you can't do anything else on the computer. When I first struck this problem I had another job away from the computer that I could do, but on subsequent occasions, apart from keeping on scanning while PP is downloading, which means more downloading to sit through eventually, there's nothing else I can do except sit and think.
And PP is quite temperamental. Upset it, and it's likely only to download half the document, meaning you then have to go back and scan part of the original load of papers all over again
[ Click here to read more ]
What some people do to make a few bucks!
By chance I came across an article today on odd online museums. I guess the Internet is a place where people will try out anything, and here's one that's really oddball. It actually manages to turn something mundane into a kind of art work - a 'found' art work, in fact - because what Bill Keaggy has done is collect the scraps of paper people write their shopping lists on, and his collection of some 1600 items has all been carefully photographed and put on the Net. Crazy, you think. Well, you're right. I think even Mr Keaggy thinks it's crazy, but that hasn't stopped him writing a book about his collection, called
, grocery lists lost and found.
He states on his main web page
[ Click here to read more ]
Only 18 more days at work! And fewer and fewer sleeps.
18 more days before I finish up because we're going overseas for six months. Fewer and fewer sleeps before we fly off to Auckland, and then to Seoul, and then to London. Two massive hops after the Auckland stop, which I can't say I'm looking forward to (my bum's sore just thinking about sitting for so long), but we'll cope.
In celebration of the imminence of our departure, I've resurrected an old blog that hadn't been in use for a long time - since 2002, I think. (Yes, blogs have been around that long
[ Click here to read more ]
The tearoom – the one where only the men go – is a place where unpolitical correctness reigns. And so do strong opinions. And shared stories, made more alive by kinetic retelling.
It’s the place where grass roots thinking exists, and where all the liberal left-wing PC stuff seems to have barely made a dint. What it’s like for these men outside is another matter; in the tearoom opinion is at its most forthright.
The anti-smacking bill, for instance, got a clobbering, and there were lots of witty remarks about what the men did or didn’t do to their own children, or had had done to themselves as children. For the most part it wasn’t nearly as bad as Helen Clark and her cohorts would like to think. Most men these days are not given to smacking their kids with any degree of regularity
[ Click here to read more ]
Every day after offices close down, and businesses wind down for the night, an enormous army of people, mostly women, but many men too, start work. They’re the cleaners, and they pick up the day’s debris, and clean up the daytime workers’ mess, and polish floors, and dust desks, and wash out washrooms, and clean toilets, and do it all in a way that’s mostly invisible to those of us who work from 8 till 5 or thereabouts.
These are the people who put toilet rolls in the toilet-roll-holders, and fill up the hand-cleaning dispensers, and put out fresh teatowels, and wash up the dishes, and make sure the coffee machine is full of milk, and coffee, and hot chocolate and soup.
It’s a thankless job, being a cleaner, because most of the people you serve never see you, and even those that do fail to acknowledge your role in keeping them from being overcome with dirt and grime
[ Click here to read more ]
The other day I wrote about an unfriendly program at work that wouldn’t keep the format for particular reports, and had to be reformatted every time. Okay, I was wrong. It can be formatted, and I found out how to do last Friday. The moral ought to be: never write out of ignorance, but since I often do, it’s obviously not a moral I’ve taken on board yet.
Unfriendly programs can often be fixed, if we get the right information. Unfriendly people are a different kettle of fish. I haven’t worked with too many unfriendly people over the years, and to have come across a very small number in the last six months is a bit of a surprise. Before that I struggle to think of any people who were what I’d call consistently unfriendly. There were always people you didn’t really make much progress with in terms of friendship, but in general I’ve got on well with people overall.
I guess I’ve been very lucky in that respect – or maybe I’ve just haven’t been in the sorts of jobs where you meet bullies, or people who put you down, or ambitious people who’d walk all over you. What a blessing
[ Click here to read more ]
More Posts
446 Posts dating from December 2006
Email Subscription
Receive e-mail notifications of new posts on this blog:
|
|
|
Read More
Add Comments
Comments (2)
