I'm sat on the toilet, right now.
Expecting a delivery from Amazon, needing a poo, I'd asked my mother-in-law if she'd keep an eye out for the delivery, mentioned that I'd left the key in the door, and finished by saying "I'm tempting fate here."
The doorbell rang the very instant I sat.
Is telepathy a part of the delivery driver training regime‽
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My Fisher Space Pen leaked; the brand's legendary status is in jeopardy! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
(Think calming thoughts Baz…)
On Tuesday I dropped my pen, thought nothing of it.
On Wednesday I noticed excessive smudging (I'm left-handed.)
Today I got my magnifying glass out after a particularly nasty blob of ink appeared on my planner. And transferred to my finger. And highlighter pens. A blob of ink that even after half a day resisted all attempts to cover by careful applications of white paper from an on-a-roll dispenser.
Now the magnifier is ordinarily almost useless, having a too-small, rectangular, lowish powered main glass and a tiny ancillary, but insanely-powerful inset magnifier. It's with this second, a lens having an extraordinarily shallow focus depth, that I found the end of the pen refill had split.
When it dropped, all-of 73cm onto industrial-strength office carpet, it must have impacted something hard-enough to break one side of the ball retaining sleeve.
Unprecedented.
Yes, I have got a spare refill.
Phew!
It – a fine point replaced by the new-year medium black – is about to run out.
Living on borrowed time now; it's probably the most excitement I'll have all week.
Let's face it, at work on an otherwise-unremarkable day, I managed to defeat the very best American engineering – a pen designed to write in zero-G, upside-down, underwater, in extraordinarily hostile environments – by dropping it on the floor.
Danger, it follows me everywhere.
Addendum:
It's a myth that the Americans spent squillions of dollars developing the pen whilst the Russians used a pencil. Snopes.com link.
If you've ever watched a Disney or Pixar film you'll know that cute little animals, hulking great animals, otherwise-inanimate objects such as teapots and desk lamps, and vehicles, all can occasionally spring to life possessed (I chose the word carefully) with human characteristics.
Characteristics such as speech, gait, actions, and faces.
There's something endearing about a nonhuman thing doing human things, and the film industry knows this. They don't always get it right, as has been discussed endlessly on the Internet.
A prime example in film is Cars. And Planes. Everyone knows the defining feature of a car's face is its eyes – the headlamps. Yet in Cars, and in Planes, the eyes are the windscreens. It's just wrong.
Earlier, anticipating only to extend my toilet seat streak, I walked into the gents here. After one slightly awkward conversation with a colleague entering behind – a chat about clenching and kids films – I sat.
Cold toilet seat streak preserved, yay!
But could I 'go'? The hell I could. Stage-fright?
The imagined ranks of too-big-and-unnaturally-positioned-eyed vehicles passing my minds eye entirely put me off. The forklift trucks especially, scurrying about, never remaining still…
I don't appear to have a poo-with-eyes emoji in my phone keyboard. Perhaps it's just as well.
Lunchtime.
Not a packet of potato crisps, for obvious reasons.
"Simple life good."*
Er… I shall stop talking like the village idiot now.
'Life' is now too complex for me, has been for quite some time, and it frustrates all my efforts to simplify situations.
Borrowing from a previous blog post, 'Paris':
"Life is complicated. Living it is easy. Put one foot in front of another, breathe in, breathe out, drink, blink, eat, pee, poo, sleep, work, play, laugh, cry. And then it's over.
There is more, of course. Aspiration. The latest smartphone, TV, games console, car, a house, family, friends, safety…"
I wrote on for a bit in a similar vein. Heck, there may even have been a point to it at the time, but all that's forgotten already – and by pretty much everyone who 'lived' the events of the day the post refers to.
Luckily for me we live in an age where life-expectancy is great enough that, for quite some time to come, I will be yearning for an age that might have existed before even I entered this world. I'm in my forty-eleventh year in this planet dontcha know!
It's an age of simplicity, this thing in my head, but one in which even the now-simplest-to-treat ailment (scurvy, for instance) could have propelled me in particular headlong into the cart on the way to that pauper's grave.
One small positive here; we have the choice where we end up nowadays. Ok, we've the illusion of choice; the family's wishes will surely trump mine. Whether it happens or not I've at least asked to be burnt when it's my time.
No cart for me!
*A conversation with myself, sparked in part by @tomas on 10Cv4.
Dateline: Right now!
We have a simply great work custom: anyone having a birthday brings in food and shares it with all. Today, 4rthur* (thanks 4nne* for cooking & laying it all out) brought a particularly rich spread, pizzas, cake, pork pies, some, er… tasty things…
I just ate a couple of slices of a Hawaiian pizza.
(pause for effect…)
And again I liked it.
To recap; if you read my recent 'Pineapple' post, you'll see I introduced a foodstuff (pineapple) positioned diametrically opposite to my views on the addition of fruit to savoury meals.
I'm not averse to foodstuffs prepared in challenging ways but pineapple is one of those polarising fruits; tolerable in isolation, downright wrong on a pizza. Or with gammon.**
Or so I thought.
My palate must be changing with age; after all I eschewed the pepperoni pizza, picking up the Hawaiian in preference.
It would appear that 2016 is indeed a year of experimentation, compromise… If only my attitudes to other deeply entrenched beliefs could be moderated in a similar fashion.
Perhaps I need to go around licking stuff – you know, to test if my attitudes can be modified according to taste?
*Names have been changed to protect even the generosity of those wonderful individuals here.
**Gammon with egg FTW!
Yesterday I created and posted (if that's the correct term) my first podcast. (It at least looks and sounds like one.)
Today, whilst I was sat at my desk, a colleague approached and… "48 seconds" he said.
Despite the fact he'd earlier mentioned listening to the audio, and alluded to the (unfortunately fictional) Chorley FM slogan "Coming in your ears", my expression must have conveyed my abject lack of understanding.
He proceeded to explain, "[REDACTED]"
"Ah," I replied. Take a look at this.
But it's not really appropriate to search too deeply for a definition of Internet Rule 34* on a work PC, is it.
*Potentially NSFW link; be careful what you click, children.
Where do I start?
Perhaps I need a list for that.
I’ve had list managers, todo managers, GTD task managers and have even flirted with full-blown project management software. In all-but-one case I’ve eventually and habitually snoozed, or edited-to-postpone, tasks.
That one piece of software: Omnifocus for iOS.
I slated its developers for a bug-ridden update after the transition from iOS 6 to iOS 7. Every piece of useful software eventually breaks, but…
On Android now after a sidestep to Windows Phone, I must say I miss Omnifocus with its rich feature set and calendar integration.
Thats my personal productivity mentioned, there’s something important to note…
I use no productivity software at work.
I have a yellow Sigel Conceptum A5 squared notepad in which I write important things using a Fisher Space Pen. But the writing thing and the thing on which I write aren’t that important; what I write is.
I have a system.
I recently started allowing entries to span lines. It took 5 months; I was afraid of compromises, dilution of effect.
2016 January Week 2 18 Mon ------ ↪[ ] Tidy desk [✔] SolidWorks Vault deletions [ ] Catch up with previous tasks ! 🔺 Change (size on component) 🕒 Sick: 11:35-
I’ve been using this system since June 2015; it’s a keeper!
A recent all-too-brief conversation prompted me to think about what defines the success of a social network.
In my world it’s not about the numbers of users, nor is it the number of followers, nor is it measured by the number of visits, replies, mentions or comments on linked posts.
Here’s my list:
And here, better than I could ever put into words in any coherent way and manner approaching brevity, is a diagram of the inner workings of my mind.
The story of Jack and the Beanstalk encompasses a great many moral lessons, chief of which is planting magic beans isn't always the easiest path to riches.
I've lost count of the number of magic beans I planted over the years, but there the similarity to the fairy (or is it folk?) story's eponymous protagonist ends; I'm not a thief or murderer.
I've felt like turning to the dark side a good few times when my plans have come to naught, but this sense of morality always intrudes.
Maybe it's a good thing.
I'm occasionally advised to play the long game; to be patient and realise 'these things [actually do] take time.'
I'm reminded of Isaac Asimov's 'Nightfall' – and what might happen were I to see the fruits of my labours spread out before me, their collective greatness too awful for mortal man to behold unfiltered.
So-ooo…
What will the UK retirement age be for a man of my years?
"I don't want to holiday in the sun
I want to go to the new Belsen
I want to see some history
'Cause now I got a reasonable economy"
So sang the Sex Pistols, on a record released during my 13th year on this planet. I'll be honest though, I just wasn't old enough to 'get' Punk Rock. That said, 'Never Mind The Bollocks' became one of my most favourite, most played albums…
I inherited a desire to explore from my parents. Not the 'grand' pith-helmet type of exploration, not the canoe up the Amazon type nor the temples and ancient artifacts variant of open-seas pirates, no.
A desire to not go on holiday, laze about all day, get a lobster tan and return home after a conventional 2 weeks, extolling the virtues of the local beers and stinky sausages, and appearing from the holiday snaps to have enjoyed every minute.
My only pool/seaside holiday was my honeymoon; but that's a tale for another time.
Until 1992 we as a family had never left the United Kingdom, not even the mainland – apart from the flight to The Isle of Man for an, er… regulation 2 week annual holiday. We always found something to do. Always.
My dad passed away first, sadly (from my perspective at least) without a repeat flight. By the time mum left us we'd still been abroad only twice; coach tours to first West coast USA then, the following year, East coast USA & Canada. Fan-with-a-capital-effing-an-tastic!
Friends asked if I'd like to go on an Egyptian your; you know, THE Pyramids, cruise down THE River Nile, Karnak, balloon flight… Egypt is an amazing country – and one I hope to return to one day with my family.
One day, one day…
That same year, a USA tour from Washington DC through the South and departing from Dallas TX. The year after that another USA tour, this starting in Denver CO, south through the American Rockies into New Mexico then West, departing from Phoenix AZ.
A couple of years later, with a mate and feeling a little more confident, a week's American Football tour around Ohio; my first, and so-far only fly-drive holiday. Football, beer, noise and driving on the wrong side of the road just because we could. Bloody great!
A year later, with my wife-to-be, a very special Egyptian tour. This time I did not escape the Pharoahs' curse; the Siwa oasis hotel's on-entry-room-smells-of-poo experience simply has to be experienced. And I did. For the next week-and-a-half.
Then we took three cheap mini-cruises; overnight ferry, day in a European city, ferry overnight back home.
Tours hand it, whatever it is, to the tourist on a plate. All the lazy traveller must do in return is not antagonise one's fellow travellers.
Easy.
After all that, to mention I'd never visited my own country's capital city (2 hours by train) until October last year might appear a little odd.