I came back to work yesterday, after nearly three weeks off for paternity leave. When I phoned my boss last week to tell him that I'd be back on Monday, he somehow forgot to mention that we'd moved offices. So I turned up yesterday morning and our team had gone! It was only our team moving, so other people were still there. It wasn't entirely unexpected, as they've been telling us that we'll be moving 'imminently' since at least last November and we've had the seating plan for the new office for months. We're much closer to the canteen, gym and Tesco now, as the last office was rather isolated.
I've also been trying to create a slightly more senior role for myself, and my boss has just asked me to write a job spec for it. I've no idea if there'll be any more money, but it will certainly look good on my CV. So I'm busy trying to think up a list of roles and responsibilities. I just know that this is going to upset one particular contractor who I have issues with. He's a senile old git who sleeps in a van in the car-park and lives out of a collection of plastic bags under and around his desk. He looks (and smells) like a tramp and isn't particularly good at his job. In the office move, we tried to position him as far from everyone else as possible, as no-one wants to sit anywhere near him. He's been programming since the early 1970's but still writes code like a beginner. It would be nice to have some seniority over him, as he hates criticism of his shoddy work.
Gemma's contractions started at around 11pm last night. Neither of us have had much sleep. I managed about 2 hours, and she's had less. She phoned the hospital and we're going in soon so that they can give her a check over. They might just tell us that nothing is lively to happen for quite a while and send us home, but they may want to keep her in.
I'll post updates whenever possible.
At the Moot With No
Point Name, tomorrow (Wednesday) night:
Apr 9 - Jeremy Harte - Hell on Earth: Devils in the Mediaeval Landscape
Behind the scenes of mediaeval life, a vicious secret struggle took place between demons and the men of God. Though saints might drive the last devil out from the ruins of the pagan races, the fight went on against the old enemy with the cross raised high on mountains and steeples to carry holy war into the kingdom of the air. But the demons never quite went away, flickering like shadows among the wild spaces of a half-cultivated countryside. A stranger met on the road might turn into almost anything, and even good and evil sometimes seemed confounded. "Is it surprising that we turn vicious?" said the well-dressed young man with one warped boot. "After all, you demonise us." An eerie landscape of marvel and miracle unfolds in Jeremy Harte's talk.
The Moot with No Name meets Alternate Wednesdays, 7.30 for 8pm.
Upstairs, Devereux pub near Temple tube station. £2.
Opposite the Royal Courts of Justice on the Strand (near Aldwych) is
a Tudor-style pub, the George. The Devereux is down the alley next to
this. See map at http://tinyurl.com/cp7u2
We're interviewing people for a couple of jobs. One candidate didn't show up, so my boss phones him. Boss says, "Where are you?", candidate replies, "Sitting outside in my car. The interview isn't until 1:30". Boss replies "It's now quarter to two". Turns out that he forgot to change his phone to British Summer Time. That gave us a good laugh.
He's here now, so off to conduct interview.