Sortin' things out...

Well, I think I can truly say I've moved in now, having dealt with my first spider at the flat.

And, yes, when I say 'dealt with', I mean crushed... and then swept up, because the strangely intact corpse fell all the way to the skirting board (behind the newly-erected hall shelves!).

I was actually surprised it's taken so long to find a decent-sized spider in this place. All manner of insects have been and gone, but arachnids have been strangely absent.

In other news, I have just started to notice that cooking instructions invariably give a different temperature for fan-assisted ovens. This probably explains why most of my early attempts with the oven have led to burnt chips. Oh well. Now I know.

Work is rather crazy, but actually better than it has been recently. My magazine for tomorrow is still about 3K off target, but has less that 4 pages worth of space. It may not be pretty tomorrow.

My Father's birthday is this weekend, so I'll be popping over there for lunch/dinner on Saturday, and delivering what I still think is a seriously cool birthday present, even if it does basically encourage smoking. On Sunday, I shall be venturing off to see the Wolverine movie. I hear it's a bit crap... but anything has to be better than the Marvel Comics Origin story.

Or I hope so, anyway.

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Birthday confusion

OK, I really do have a terrible memory for dates... but, not only that, I have trouble remembering which birthday is which, because just about everyone in the family and several of my friends have very similar birthdays. Of my immediate family, I'm the only one not born on either the 2nd or the 22nd of a month, One of my friends has a birthday on the 22nd, I know at least two people whose birthdays are May 5th, and then I have a friend whose birthday is the 11th (half of 22).

So, when I said at the end of the last post that it was my father's birthday on my last press day, I was wrong... it was my sister's birthday. Her presents are sorted, and the main one is an email anyway, so that's no problem. My father's birthday is a couple of weeks away, and I already have his gift, I just need to do some wrapping.

The shelves are up, and already laden with stuff... Books at the bottom, DVDs on the next shelf, and an empty shelf with space for at least one more when required. Slowly getting there...

Got to playing Riven yesterday... Largely because it came up in conversation at work recently, and I wanted to see if it was still as frustrating as I remember it. Seriously, 'playing' those games - Myst was perhaps a slightly worse offender - are just like watching slides of someone else's holiday snaps, with the occasional puzzle thrown in. When moving around, half the time you simply click from slide to slide but then, for no readily apparent reason, the creators felt it necessary to have you manually turn around on a staircase (down stairs, down stairs, turn, forward, turn, down stairs, down stairs, etc). Junctions are sensibly handled, but staircases are not. Why? I guess the idea behind the games was that you're free to explore, marvel at the scenery and just do whatever you want, without fear of getting killed (there are other people in Riven, but you rarely get to interact with them - normally they see you and run off)... but the method of getting from location to location - click, click, click, endless clicking - is utterly tiresome... You'd have to be particularly enamoured of the scenery to want to spend time 'exploring' and, frankly, I've never been that keen. Give me Myst rendered in real-time, that I can walk through rather than clicking, that I can see from any angle rather than the prerendered views chosen by the creators, and I'll be impressed by that. It could easily be done with today's technology... and, frankly, the puzzles could be better as well. They don't even have 'pick up item x and use it at location y' puzzles!

The last two days of last week I spent at the home, feeling quite sorry for myself due to the cold I picked up from my sister. On Thursday morning, having been instructed by my boss to stay at home, I texted her to say she was quite right - I'd been feverish overnight (probably shouldn't have gone in on Wednesday, but it was my press day), and felt rotten. Friday was marginally better but it's really only today that I've started to feel reasonably well again.

My visit to the chiropractor yesterday was interesting. She recommended I ask my (new!) GP for some blood-work, to rule out the possibility of infection in my hip. Quite a coincidence, considering I was convinced it felt like an infection at the start. Not sure when I'll get round to it but, having registered at a practice just down the road, I have a list of names and hours worked, so I should be able to direct the question to the most relevant person.

Afterward, I decided to browse Acton in search of bookends for my new shelves. That didn't go too well - one shop even suggested I try Ikea or B&Q! I even managed to get myself collared by one of those 'Chuggers', working for Scope. It's a noble cause and all, but part of me already regrets signing up for dontations... I agree that disabled people should have every opportunity that the able bodied have, but one has to be practical. I was asked when I was last served in a shop by someone in a wheelchair... that's never happened, and for good reason. Wheelchairs get in the way, and they occupy too much space behind (or around) counters. We don't need legislation to force employers to take on disabled people, we need alternative to the 'solutions' disabled people are currently lumbered with. Wheelchairs have been around for ages without developing anything significantly new... Let's get these Japanese robots people to build robot legs for people who can't walk. Otherwise, the wheelchair-bound are stuck with desk jobs... or none at all.

On the way home, I decided to stop off at Staples, where I knew I'd find bookends. It's a decent shop, which supplied me not only with bookends, but with a new powered USB 2.0 hub (SEVEN ports!) and some DVD-Rs, so I can clean up my machine again.

Today, I'm expecting a visit from a friend who plans on cooking me lunch, but she's already called to say she's running late. Just as well... I haven't done the vacuuming yet!

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Shelved

Today was the day that my B&Q shelves were delivered... and, as is becoming common, nothing really went according to plan.

They were unable to specify a time between 8am and 6pm, but had told my mother they'd phone an hour ahead of delivery. That would give my folks ample time to get over to help my get the stuff upstairs, because B&Q don't deliver to your door if you're in a flat.

I'd booked the day off work, so there would be no trouble - my folks can't always get over here early enough to take care of a 8/9am delivery, for example - but was intending to go into work if the stuff arrived at a reasonably hour.

I'd had a terrible night, having picked up my sister's cold last week but, after a dose of cold-cure, felt quite reasonable until the afternoon, when I took to napping.

To fill in the time when I wasn't napping, I tried some sketching - didn't get very far - researching maps for my videogame plan, and then playing and old Saturn action RPG called Virtual Hydlide, to see if it made any more sense now.

I'm honestly not sure how far I got back when I bought it, but - with the aid of some tips found online - I managed to complete the first three quests quite easily.

Partway through, my doorbell rang... and it turned out to be B&Q. I told one of the deliverymen that I'd expected a phone call before they arrived, and was told that their instructions didn't have that box ticket, as it were. Oh well. They were nice enough to bring it all up to the flat - three shelves, five mountings and 15 brackets. A swift call to my parents, and they were on their way to get things started.

It didn't all happen, unfortunately. My father's drill bit set didn't include the right diameter, and the size below was far too small for the plugs. My folks are planning to come back tomorrow, buy the right drill bit, and finish the job. I should be able to start stacking my books when I get home.

What we did get done - after much struggle - was the mounting of my knife rack. Who knew the tiles I'd chosen were such heavy-duty stuff. Not only are they thick, but they needed the strongest drill bits my father had... and even then, it took ages to drill through the tiles.

I think that's about all from me... I'm definitely not feeling well right now, and I really need to be better for my Press Day tomorrow.

Oh, and of course it's my father's birthday tomorrow...

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Curses, USB Hub!

Well, that was a little strange.

For no obviously discernible reason, my powered USB hub died this evening. I was in the middle of doing some laundry, happened to glance over at the computer, and found an error message telling me that an item of USB hardware had failed, or could not be identified.

Um. Well, it seems to be the former.

I spent a couple of minutes plugging in and unplugging various bits and bobs, concluding that, if each bit of hardware works when plugged directly into the computer, it's pretty certain that the problem is the hub.

That said, it's still giving out power... just no USB connectivity.

Darn it.

Oh well. I needed to get a new one anyway - preferably a USB 2.0 hub, since my computer continually complained that every bit of hardware plugged into the old hub would "perform faster if attached to a USB 2.0 port".

Work wasn't great... things seemed a little slow for 2 days before press. Part of me welcomed the quiet, part of me feared for tomorrow. I won't be in work until I know what time my shelving is arriving at the flat, and there are a few scary blanks on the flatplan. One of my counterpart's magazines, due to go today, has now been put back another week or so... largely, it seems, because the Commercial Manager got hammered at a stag night over the weekend.

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On Loneliness

One of my big hang ups, when it came to the idea of moving out, was that I'd spent over 30 years in my parents' home, most of which living with my sister in the house as well. There was always a certain amount of background noise - to-ing and fro-ing about the house - and while the idea of having a place of my own meant privacy (finally!), it also meant I'd be on my own... and that was a little scary.

Now I'm here - and rambling after midnight! - I haven't once felt lonely.

This shouldn't surprise me, considering my natural tendency toward isolation... But it is curious.

Still, I wanted privacy so I could get some writing done... and haven't managed much of that so far...

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Hide and Seek

Since the foldaway chairs at the flat have been causing my lower back no end of pain, I decided I'd try to fast-track moving my chair over from the house. It's a basic office chair, but it gives back support at the right place, and its height is adjustable.

Accomplishing this feat turned out to be rather more complicated than it needed to be.

Firstly, the chair was at the desk in my room - no surprise - but the desk was blocked off by my bed... and the bed was laden with all the boxes I'd transferred from the back bedroom, having emptied (so very nearly completely emptied) the display cabinets.

I tried dismantling the chair where it stood, but that turned out to be impossible. The bed was unloaded and raised, so that I could finish the job, and actually extricate the chair from its rather cramped location.

Of course, having done all that, I had to go and lose the screw that fastens the backrest in place underneath the seat. I spent the best part of an hour searching for it, turning my room over several times in the process.

And then, of course, it turned up in one of the first places I looked - underneath my CD racks - and where I'd looked several times over the course of the hour. It was playing with my mind.

So now I'm back at the flat, sitting on a comfy chair. Hurrah.

I should probably attempt to sum up the week while I'm still able to think tonight.

Work carried on being crap. My Friday deadline, which looked easily met around mid-week, suddenly went pear-shaped on Press Day. It didn't help that my regular contact at the Printers was on holiday, and the two people covering for him were very skittish. I guess our crazy Press Days are so 'normal' to our usual guy, he didn't think to brief them on the fact that we occasionally add or remove 8, 16... hell, even 24 pages on Press Day... or the fact that the order of pages in the property section is subject to change right up to the last minute.

The Commercial Manager tried desperately to put Press Day back to next Tuesday (Monday being already taken), but the Printers had the job scheduled for Friday evening, so that was out of the question.

It wasn't pleasant, but we managed it... and were out by 8pm - a whole hour earlier than my counterpart's most recent disastrous Press Day.

The worst part of it all was that my concentration wasn't at its best. I'd been up late Thursday night, letting myself get distracted by teh interwebs, so I was very tired, and I'd been exchanging geeky emails at irregular intervals with the salesperson who, on Wednesday, revealed herself to be serious geek and Penny Arcade fan. Subjects ranged from videogames (console/PC/Mac, specifics like Neverwinter Nights tactics and Baldur's Gate 2 characters) to television (largely Doctor Who and its terrible Easter 'special'). When I asked if she'd listed to the Penny Arcade/PVP D&D 4e Playtest Podcasts, she said she hadn't... for fear of turning into an Ubergeek.

Not quite sure how I should take that...

Thankfully, such irreverence petered out by Friday, but really wouldn't have made much impact on the day if it hadn't. The problems were completely outside of Production... In fact, whenever I made a suggestion to the magazine manager, he acted on it almost immediately. The problems were all down to shaky bookings in Property (this, I hear rumoured, will be the last month we employ a freelancer - the Commercial Manager has convinced the MD that we need an in-house, accountable Property rep to make things work smoothly), and several clients who just couldn't be contacted.

It's actually heartbreaking to see how these magazines are going. People are trying, but they lack the training to do things properly (not to mention, in many cases, the skill to do things well), so these magazines - some of which have been going for over 20 years under various managements - are falling apart. Once strong brands have been undermined by poor selling and a lack of regard for the magazines. Far too many of the salespeople only see their sales targets, and completely overlook the product they produce... it's not just sales patter that our magazines are read and enjoyed by many.

And it's not just our magazines. Another sales team from one of the other branches of the company sits behind me. An argument broke out between two of the salespeople last week when one of the undersold to a client of the other, who'd been on holiday:

"I get £300 from them, now you've sold them in for £100 while I was on holiday," complained one.
"Well, if you think you can get £300 from them, by all means do," offered the other.
"You've already sold them in lower than I do, so I won't be able to get £300 out of them now" pointed out the first.
"Well, if you were going to contact them, why didn't you make notes on [new system]?" countered the second.
"I made notes on [old system]."
"That's not used anymore."
"Oh yes it is."
"Oh no it isn't."
etc, etc.

All this, and we're ditching one of our Printers, having had far too many late deliveries from them in recent months.

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The Third Haiku Haiku

Rattling off Haiku
Takes a special frame of mind
Now rarely attained

Now, when you consider that those seventeen syllables over three lines occurred to me while I was still in bed this morning, determined to sleep in as much as possible, the content of the Haiku takes on a whole new light. Do I have to be half asleep, the morning after a pretty terrible week to write poetry these days?

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Briefly...

Learned something interesting today: One of the new recruits on one of my magazines is a bit of a geek. And, when I say 'a bit of a geek', I mean she attended PAX (the Penny Arcade Expo) one year with other members of her World of Warcraft guild, remembers Infocom adventure games (played them aged 12), and XBox is a big part of her life.

Apparently the rest of her team consider her 'too geeky'. Strange, considering one of them had a drunken lightsabre fight with his mother.

In other news, my counterpart's magazine got a little out of hand today - my boss called me at 9pm to say they were just leaving. And this, after they dropped 8 pages of the magazine at 5pm.

I had spent a good chunk of my afternoon creating a workable template for a new Estate Agent client (one based closely on their MS Word example, another making it look good), and a hairdresser whose idea of a good full-page ad was a tiny picture dwarfed by a short price list in a massive, dull-looking font, all surrounded by a burgundy border. Mine used a full-page image, and shrunk the text (apart from the discount offer) right down.

My boss accused me - yet again - of being a Designer.

Bumped into my old mate Paul on the way home, and he confirmed that he has bought tickets to the IMAX presentation of Star Trek (the new movie) this weekend. Should be fun. He also confirmed that he would be interested in seeing Mediaeval Baebes in May... This is lucky because, while I've bought tickets for myself and my sister (the latter as a birthday present), I'm not entirely certain I'll be able to go, as the gig falls on one of my Press Days.

I stopped in on my parents' house to do some more repackaging, and have now boxed all the Galaxy Force toys. There are a couple of Cybertron toys I can box, but the rest will have to get bubble-wrapped and put into the spare generic boxes I've now freed up. Almost there.

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Success!

After spending an unforeseen length of time trying to find a magnetic knife rack for my kitchen, I happened upon one in the Lakeside branch of Robert Dyas.

Yes, that's right, Lakeside.

The other side of London.

Weird, because I've been in more local branches of Dyas, and not found anything along those lines. The Lakeside branch had it nestled in with the knives, in a locked cabinet.

Just to make the day even more fun, I got extra birthday presents for my sister - a newborn baby 'user/troubleshooting manual' and a paper making kit (intended for kids, but should be fun for her craft projects nevertheless) and something cool for my father - a belt buckle that's also a cigarette lighter. Very Batman.

My boss drove me over as we were hoping to find the rumoured new TransFormers, both from the Universe line and the new movie line. No such luck... nothing particularly new at all.

Having got through Lent without eating any chocolate, as is her annual thing, my boss managed to very nearly put herself off chocolate entirely by breaking her fast with a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk.

Could have seen that coming... We ventured into Thorntons to get proper chocolate.

We also visited the Lakeside branch of Shakeaway, the milkshake shop. Certainly not as good as the Kingston branch, though it's unclear whether that's by accident (faulty blenders) or design (laziness). My Terry's Chocolate Orange shake was rather weak, and huge chunks of Chocolate Orange littered the bottom of the cup. My boss's Banana Shake with extra icecream was similarly weak, despite the extra icecream.

For myself, I also snagged some more shower stuff and deodorant (the antiperspirant is horrible), and a new cleaning cartridge for my electric razor, since it's been without for several months now. Just need to transfer the darned thing over here now.

I went looking for the DVD of Silent Hill (the movie, rather than any of the games) on the off chance because, having been watching lots of Silent Hill game walkthroughs, the movie has been on my mind. It's a pretty good movie, bar the very end... which means it's a very good movie of Silent Hill, because they tend to follow the same formula. It's just a shame that the movie turned out to be as derivative of other horror franchises as it was of the videogames. Anyway... Didn't find it, so I'll have to go looking elsewhere.

Upon my return to the flat - yes, staying overnight before returning to work - I adjusted the height of my computer desk so I'm not leaning over it quite so much. Probably should have done that ages ago, because it's been causing my lower back no end of trouble. Should be better now, as long as I remember not to slouch...

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Boring

Came back to the flat late yesterday - managed to convince my (very pregnant) sister to give me a lift, since she wanted to see the place anyway - because the house was getting very boring. I went back on Saturday to do some more packing, but spent a good portion of the day in bed. That's not to say I didn't get anything done... but, frankly, I got more done on Sunday morning, when my mother started clearing up for the arrival of my sister.

The odd thing was, before I left the flat, I debated whether or not to take my house keys. I'd said I'd be popping round so, with any luck, my folks would be around, right?

Let's just say it's lucky I brought the keys... I would have been waiting outside for a couple of hours otherwise. My father stayed in bed till Saturday afternoon, and my mother was out shopping till after midday.

Once the scrap boxes were disposed of and the sofabed opened out, I was able to access the final cabinet, enabling me to box up my Japanese Beast Wars figures, thus freeing up even more space. Suddenly the task does not seem insurmountable. All I really have to do now is shuttle over the two bags of boxes I have ready, take the bags back, fill them up again then repeat till everything's over here. I reckon the Galaxy Force stuff should only take one trip.

Watched the Doctor Who Easter special, and must once again request that Russell T. Davies stop writing for Doctor Who. It was an hour long episode that could easily have been trimmed by half - there was no suspense, only padding - and the effects budget could have been reduced by cutting out the insect-headed alien things which served absolutely no useful purpose. Oh, and, forgive me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it rather a rip-off of Pitch Black? Only not as good..? And with a body count of only two (insect-headed alien things, so that doesn't even count)? Really, truly rubbish. Not even Michelle Ryan in a catsuit improved it. Her character was reasonably interesting but, typically, ended the episode wanting to be the Doctor's companion... but he's still moping, and refused because he "loses everyone". Um. How many years has he been travelling, and how many companions has he lost before having this epiphany? Come on...

What really brought me back to the flat was Lewis. I was almost considering staying at the house again, even though there was bugger all to do there. Lewis - the follow up to Inspector Morse - irritated me from the outset, and followed a whole stream of rubbish television that my parents seem to enjoy (and enjoy inflicting on others - my sister was paying a rare visit... and we're watching TV?).

So getting back to the flat gave me the opportunity to talk to my sister... and learn that I'm going to have a niece... named Catherine Imogen. Cool name, I think.

While I was at the house, I started reading an old 'diary' of mine. I never really got the hang of diaries, and ended up scrawling notes in various leftover school exercise books, many of which amounted to "I'm too tired to write anything today, I'll do it tomorrow...". I was pretty surprised by what I read... It chronicled my first few months in my first job (so that would have made me about 19), and I couldn't quite believe what a tit I was.

I was obsessing mainly over whether or not I should ask out an old schoolfriend (and, to this day, I still have not... having realised that she was a bit of a cow), or one of my new colleagues (who got fired before I made a decision) or, later, another new starter (who ended up going out with one of the print room lads, while I couldn't figure out if she liked me or not). I strongly resented so much as five minutes overtime and, on at least one occasion, was not paid the proper amount because the accountant (in the office two or three days a month) decided I'd overestimated my time. And then, at the end of my three month trial, I was given another three months probation because I "didn't do enough on my own initiative".

While I remembered these events, my impressions of them were utterly alien to me. Who was this moron? Why did he care whether this girl or that girl liked him or not? Why did he care whether they said goodbye at the end of the day? And overtime? So what? I do even more now, and I'm not even paid for it.

Truly bizarre... I mean, I'm not the most thoughtful or empathic person now, but back then I was well and truly shut inside the tiny little box of my mind. At least I had the good grace to recognise back then what a good friend I had in my old mate Paul...

So now I'm killing time before going off shopping - theoretically in search of new TransFormers, rumoured to be available at Lakeside.

I have had more ideas for my 16 year old game... figuring out the introduction and how it leads into the game. I've also brought a pencil and some rubbers back from the house, so hopefully I'll do some sketching later on.

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Life at the Flat

Had a very weird dream overnight.

First part involved a waterpistol battle... me with the old-style manual-firing gun, my opponent with one of these new-fangled things with and electric pump. It started in a flat not unlike mine, but ran out into the street, ending up outside one of the shops. Again, possibly not unlike my local environs, but kinda from the wrong angle.

The next part - where it gets really weird and rather disturbing - returned to the flat, but in a completely different, leafier area. There was scaffolding outside, but my father needed to do something on the roof, further up than the scaffolding went. To facilitate this, he'd brought his own wooden ladder along, to balance against the railing.

While the ladder looked solid enough when carried, when he planted it on the uppermost platform, the feet folded and bent, making it look completely unstable. Nevertheless, he leaned it against the railing (as in 'scaffolding set up to be handrail') and climbed to the end... which was balanced on nothing.

I figured, at best, the ladder would eventually slip, and he'd fall to the ground, but my father went one better than that. He jumped up for something I couldn't quite see, and missed the ladder entirely on the way down.

The last thing I saw before I woke up was his rather slow (but nevertheless heavy) landing on the grass below.

The Easter weekend has been a mixed bag so far. I decided to stay at the flat all day yesterday, in an attempt to do some of the chores I'd put off for too long. Ironing, for example.

Let's just say that it got done... eventually... but my ironing skills haven't really improved over the years. And the ironing board is rather inadequate. And dusty. Probably should have put the cover in the wash.

I did two loads of washing, and set them drying out in the bathroom, which wasn't too complicated.

My plan to do a bit of sketching was scuppered when I realised I'd left all my pencils at the house, and any plans I had to do some writing just didn't get off the ground. I went food shopping, and ended up not getting one of the things I was after. Not because it wasn't available but because, by the time I saw it, I was at the checkout. Some shop layouts aren't exactly helpful.

Watched a bit of TV... including a movie from a few years ago called Stormbreaker while I was doing the ironing. I realise it was based on a kids' book but... well, the idea of a computer mogul deciding to kill all British children because he was bullied in school by a boy who went on to become the British Prime Minister seemed more than a little far-fetched. Not to say just plain stupid. Furthermore, if one wished to do such a thing, there are surely better ways than to manufacture thousands of computer systems, impregnate them with a (biological) virus, and then convince the government to put at least one of these supercomputers - named 'Stormbreaker', for no readily apparent reason - in every school in the country.

And all because he was bulled as a child, for being the only American in a posh British school.

Also watched the first part of a Red Dwarf special - Back To Earth - which, frankly, presented me with ample reminders as to why I lost interest in Red Dwarf. The special effects were not bad... but most of it seemed so utterly pointless. Not least the introduction of a new character, replacing Kochanski (deceased, I guess... I missed the first few minutes) and, if she has her way, replacing Rimmer as well. And she has a joke Russian accent, for no obvious reason. Red Dwarf, theoretically, should be a decent comedy about the loneliness of the last ever human, trapped on an enormous spacecraft with only a hologram and a highly evolved cat (both male) for company... What it tends to be is a loose collection of jokes and references to Sci-Fi movies, none of which tends to be very funny.

Managed to catch another episode of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles... and I'm still kind of enjoying it, but I wonder where it's going. Cameron appears to have developed a defective hand (lethal to pigeons) and a few personality glitches (and may have decided she loves the young John Connor), and the mish-mash of supplementary characters seem to end up killing each other eventually. Shirley Manson as a Terminator disguised as the top dog at some big corporation is patchy - sometimes a little too robotic, sometimes not quite enough... but either way, the Scottish accent is jarring. And the 'big bad' Terminator from season one, Cromartie, is stuck in a basement, wired up to the mainframe, being taught the value of human life..? I'm sure it's going somewhere, but who knows where?

Looking at my Broadband usage, I'm either going to need to cut down on my internet usage, or buy a better package... I'm already 1/3 through the 10Gb montly allowance! OK, I'm also about 1/3 through the month, but that's cutting it rather fine.

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Well, Psychologically At Least...

I discussed my weekend's 'location anxiety' with my boss today. She said "Congratulations, you've moved out."

I guess so... If there are things for me to do at the flat ("home"... Must start calling it "home"), and bugger all to do at the house ("parents' house"... Must start calling it "parents' house"), that must mean that, in my own mind, I am living it the flat... Even if geography doesn't quite agree yet.

In other news, a planned trip to Westfield was blown out by late running on the magazine the boss was putting to bed (my counterpart having taken the day off) and the fact that, if that hadn't run late, she would have left early due to the nasty gum infection she picked up. There's a good chance she won't be in tomorrow, depending on improvements therein.

Should have gone myself - it's only a short trip by Tube - but ended up helping out.

Bumped into one of the neighbours at the flats' front door and, since she was laden with shopping, opened up for her. Didn't want any help with the shopping but, yes, I did ask.

Making my own dinner tonight, having done a bit of vacuuming in the lounge. If I have any sense, I'll give the bedroom a quick once over before I leave... but it'll be made rather complicated by the assorted decorating detritus that's still hanging around...

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And 'Home' Is Where?

Going back to my parents' house yesterday felt very strange.

I'd spent three nights in a row at my flat, cooking for myself on two of those nights, so being back there and having to follow that routine just didn't feel right.

Lunch was 'when lunch was ready', dinner was 'when dinner was ready' (and while we were watching The Day After Tomorrow, which actually had me holding my breath once or twice, despite the implausible plot and by-the-numbers characterisation). With my computer at the flat, there wasn't a whole lot to do while I was there.

Other than packing more toys, obviously.

I took the first opportunity today to get back to the flat... Did some laundry - the 'lights', but there isn't enough for either a 'white' or a 'dark' wash at the moment - and intended to vacuum in the lounge and bedroom... but didn't quite get round to that.

I'm taking my sketchpad back to the house when I return, so hopefully I can do some sketchy-stuff for that little game design thing. I have a shrewd idea what I want the girl to look like, and I'm keeping the original idea for the player character... Perhaps I'll get a little further with the monsters as well, as I've dragged out some of my videogame artbooks for inspiration.

I'm almost tempted to stay here overnight, and head to work from here... but the house is still better equipped for an early morning start.

Must remember to switch everything off, though... When I arrived today, I discovered I'd left the laptop's cooling board on!

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And back again...

Another half day at work (not because there wasn't much on - there's a deadline for my counterpart's team on Monday, but it's looking pretty ship-shape under the circumstances) this one was because we've had a lot of late nights recently due to poor sales performance and, frankly, it was too lovely a day to be cooped up in the office.

The fun planned for the evening panned out, but I had a lovely lunch at a riverside pub in Chiswick.

Having broadband at the flat is pretty darned good... Since I've been spending Friday nights at the flat for a good few months, I've been missing out on internet. Not so anymore... but I seem to be visiting the same few sites all the time, and there's often little or nothing new.

Annoyingly, now that I'm posting the Offline Blog entries, I realise I've done virtually nothing of what I'd intended to do with my 'downtime'...

About the best I can say is that I've come up with a couple of possible endings for that 16-year-old game of mine.

But, hey, superfast interwebs.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Offline Blog #5

A fairly uneventful day (which is to say I just don't remember a great deal), but I got mostly up to date with all the web stuff, including the complete roll-out of the new page on all the websites about the show we seem to be involved in.

I was in a conference call/training session for an interesting bit of online software which allows its users to create e-mailshots. While it was all very interesting, I'm not going to be the one who does that kind of thing... I suspect it will be passed on to the Editors.

In the evening, my boss and I met up with an ex-colleague, recently back from a jaunt in Australia (which he described as "too far... in every sense"). He seemed to have enjoyed himself and, despite the obvious economic pressures and lack of jobs both there and upon his return to Blighty, pretty chipper about everything. A far cry from how he was about a year ago, when he was basically forced out.

Food was excellent - from a small Indian restaurant in south London - but, despite having a light lunch, I wasn't able to eat much of my meal, and came away feeling rather bloated.

Much of that passed as gas overnight...