It's been an exhausting day. My old boss leaves at the end of the week. The responsibility for a task that he used to do, which is actually several tasks, has fallen on me. As luck would have it I'm taking over just as there's this major launch, the likes of which haven't happened in years, and I still don't know what I'm doing. Nor do I particularly care. Today I was supposed to provide time frames for when I would have my various tasks done, so that they could "socialise the project". That's some serious BS there, folks. I then provided some time frames which were also BS. Saying how long it would take me was a bit trying to say how long it would take me to drive somewhere I've never been before, with the added bonus that I neither know nor care where the destination is. We then had a meeting where it became obvious to everyone that I didn't have a clue, and that's when I felt really stupid. The word "collateral" was used in that meeting to mean, as far as I could tell, "printed documents". That threw me a bit - we weren't caught in the crossfire of a battle, nor were we taking out a loan. I talked to my old boss after the meeting - I told him that I didn't really know what I was doing and there's only so much feeling stupid that I can handle. He said we'll need to scope out this and scope out that, and I just wanted to go home, open the freezer and scope out some ice cream.
I had my counselling appointment in my lunch break. She was very helpful and got me to think about things like I've never done before. I felt that I was able to put my finger on why I don't really have relationships. When I interact with someone, it is to exchange information or opinions, and not a lot else. But when other (more socially adept) people interact, they also make connections. That's what I'm not doing and don't really know how to. (There's certainly humour involved when I interact though, and I wonder what that's all about, because a lot of people on the autistic spectrum don't - or very rarely - use humour. Maybe my humour is different to that of most neurotypicals. I don't know.)
Another thing that came up was my constant looking at the clock or watch. I'm almost obsessive about the passing of time. My near-obsession doesn't have much to do with being punctual, it's more a concern about life passing me by without doing anything meaningful.
After work, instead of burying my face in a bowl of ice cream, I attended the autism group. It's getting too big now: I think there were 27 people including the facilitators. There was a new guy who went by the name of "Mr Ronald". This might sound cruel but Mr Ronald (forty? fifty? it was extremely hard to pick his age) reminded me of Gollum - he had verbal tics, and would often bend over double and cough and sneeze and blow his nose. Poor chap, basically. We weren't in the same subgroup so I didn't get to see much of him. After tonight I'm actually quite glad to be in Auckland in two weeks.
So Serena won yet another grand slam. To win the third set so emphatically after everything that went on in the second is the mark of a champion.
Some very positive sports news - after the ridiculous decision to drop wrestling from the 2016 Olympics, it'll be back for the 2020 Games, which we now know will be held in Tokyo.
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
Monday, September 9, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Nitty-gritty
I'm pretty bad at the whole eye-contact thing at the best of times, but after Monday night's autism meeting I realise that the moment I talk about a sensitive topic, all eye contact goes completely out the window. That was a good meeting - some of us really got down to the nitty-gritty. I've already been in contact with that guy about relationship strategies (from his email he's obviously a clever bloke). You never know, something might happen one day. If the Pope can abdicate I guess anything is possible.
Wrestling will be deleted from the Olympics after 2016. That's a crazy decision for a number of reasons. One, there's so much history behind the event at the games. Two, you don't need much money to compete in wrestling, so it's a sport that poorer nations have traditionally done well at. That poorer countries were able to win medals was surely a good thing. Three, they're replacing wrestling with sports like golf where the Olympics doesn't represent the pinnacle of the sport. It seems we've now got a new Olympic ideal: make as much money as we can.
On Campbell Live last night they compared the prices of supermarket shopping in NZ and the UK. A $200 shop in Auckland was a third cheaper in London. They cited the lack of competition here (only two players in the market) as opposed to the highly competitive situation over there (frequent price wars and loss-leading - I remember 7p loaves of bread and the infamous baked bean wars). Also many foods are tax exempt in the UK. The exchange rate (almost 54p to the dollar, when it was in the mid-thirties not so long ago) obviously doesn't help either.
Mum and Dad will be arriving tomorrow.
Wrestling will be deleted from the Olympics after 2016. That's a crazy decision for a number of reasons. One, there's so much history behind the event at the games. Two, you don't need much money to compete in wrestling, so it's a sport that poorer nations have traditionally done well at. That poorer countries were able to win medals was surely a good thing. Three, they're replacing wrestling with sports like golf where the Olympics doesn't represent the pinnacle of the sport. It seems we've now got a new Olympic ideal: make as much money as we can.
On Campbell Live last night they compared the prices of supermarket shopping in NZ and the UK. A $200 shop in Auckland was a third cheaper in London. They cited the lack of competition here (only two players in the market) as opposed to the highly competitive situation over there (frequent price wars and loss-leading - I remember 7p loaves of bread and the infamous baked bean wars). Also many foods are tax exempt in the UK. The exchange rate (almost 54p to the dollar, when it was in the mid-thirties not so long ago) obviously doesn't help either.
Mum and Dad will be arriving tomorrow.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Cold and gold
On Wednesday I went to the (now fortnightly) depression meet-up on Cuba Street. After an hour or so I'd had enough (Giuseppe's incessant talking, which he says relaxes him, didn't help). I felt and looked quite agitated. A shame, because I'd been feeling reasonably good over the previous week or so.
My car is now driveable again so I was able to see Julie on Thursday. She'd spent ten days in a rest home on respite care and was on a mini-high from meeting all those (sometimes odd) people there.
Martin, the tall long-haired bloke from the depression group, emailed me asking if he could come over to my place and either play squash or heads-up poker. I said I'd probably want some time to myself at the weekend (I'd seen a lot of people by my standards) but he was welcome to come round for a couple of hours. So yesterday he came over at four and we hit the squash court. He had an interesting playing style, regularly using the ceiling as a fifth wall, and inevitably he got the ball lodged in one of the light fittings. He then threw a basketball up there and we ended up with three balls, none of which was the one we started with. After the squash we got some curries from A Taste of India and washed them down with beers - Martin seemed quite unused to spicy food. The couple of hours well and truly over, I washed up, hoping that might give Martin a cue to leave. But his couple was obviously different to mine; he stayed until well after ten as we saw Lisa Carrington win gold in her kayak.
The London Olympics are almost at an end. They've been a huge success. I've been reminiscing a little over previous Olympics; from Atlanta in '96 two things stick out for me. First, a volleyball match involving America. I don't even remember who they were playing, but it was a thrilling match that went right down to the wire. The Americans lost on a tie-break in the final set (or whatever they call it in volleyball) and the crowd reaction to the final point was one of stunned silence. No matter that you've just witnessed one of the greatest volleyball matches ever, your team didn't win so you're not happy. That summed up the American attitude to sport. My other memory was Michael Johnson's time of 19.32 seconds to win the 200 metres. It was a Bob Beamon-like obliteration of his own previous world record. Surely no-one would get close for two decades at least. Then some freak called Usain Bolt came along and broke Johnson's record. Last week Bolt ran a 19.32 to win gold, just like Johnson did, but he eased up at the end as if he couldn't be bothered any more. I found that slightly obscene. I have warmed to Usain Bolt a bit since my last blog post.
London has put on a wonderful show. The Brits have fully embraced the games in a way some thought they wouldn't. Their team of competitors has also been hugely successful. But I can't help feeling, given the state of the economy over there, that the golden glow will wear off quickly. Thirty-odd golds won't get your job back.
On Wednesday morning there was a slightly eggy odour in my flat. I couldn't figure out where it came from until I got to work and people starting talking. It was the sulphur from the Tongariro eruption.
My six-month cold is in full flight once more. The crusty snot is back.
My car is now driveable again so I was able to see Julie on Thursday. She'd spent ten days in a rest home on respite care and was on a mini-high from meeting all those (sometimes odd) people there.
Martin, the tall long-haired bloke from the depression group, emailed me asking if he could come over to my place and either play squash or heads-up poker. I said I'd probably want some time to myself at the weekend (I'd seen a lot of people by my standards) but he was welcome to come round for a couple of hours. So yesterday he came over at four and we hit the squash court. He had an interesting playing style, regularly using the ceiling as a fifth wall, and inevitably he got the ball lodged in one of the light fittings. He then threw a basketball up there and we ended up with three balls, none of which was the one we started with. After the squash we got some curries from A Taste of India and washed them down with beers - Martin seemed quite unused to spicy food. The couple of hours well and truly over, I washed up, hoping that might give Martin a cue to leave. But his couple was obviously different to mine; he stayed until well after ten as we saw Lisa Carrington win gold in her kayak.
The London Olympics are almost at an end. They've been a huge success. I've been reminiscing a little over previous Olympics; from Atlanta in '96 two things stick out for me. First, a volleyball match involving America. I don't even remember who they were playing, but it was a thrilling match that went right down to the wire. The Americans lost on a tie-break in the final set (or whatever they call it in volleyball) and the crowd reaction to the final point was one of stunned silence. No matter that you've just witnessed one of the greatest volleyball matches ever, your team didn't win so you're not happy. That summed up the American attitude to sport. My other memory was Michael Johnson's time of 19.32 seconds to win the 200 metres. It was a Bob Beamon-like obliteration of his own previous world record. Surely no-one would get close for two decades at least. Then some freak called Usain Bolt came along and broke Johnson's record. Last week Bolt ran a 19.32 to win gold, just like Johnson did, but he eased up at the end as if he couldn't be bothered any more. I found that slightly obscene. I have warmed to Usain Bolt a bit since my last blog post.
London has put on a wonderful show. The Brits have fully embraced the games in a way some thought they wouldn't. Their team of competitors has also been hugely successful. But I can't help feeling, given the state of the economy over there, that the golden glow will wear off quickly. Thirty-odd golds won't get your job back.
On Wednesday morning there was a slightly eggy odour in my flat. I couldn't figure out where it came from until I got to work and people starting talking. It was the sulphur from the Tongariro eruption.
My six-month cold is in full flight once more. The crusty snot is back.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Random ramblings
For some reason last week at work was a more tolerable one than usual. Maybe it's because my desk is now just 200 metres from the loo instead of 300, or perhaps it's because I now have a fellow pom in my team, even if he does use phrases like "unravelling a can of worms" and "light at the end of the rainbow" in meetings. However, one better-than-average week doesn't change the fact that I need to get out of there, and to that end I've applied for a contracting role, working in procurement. You needed to be good with Excel, in particular Pivot Tables and VLOOKUPs. While I wouldn't say I was an expert I think I'd be plenty good enough, and there would be real advantages for me if I wasn't attached to any one company.
On Thursday I went to a mental health awareness concert at the King's Arms in Newton with three other blokes from our group. A real eclectic mix, you might say. I loved the venue and it seems they have well known bands there on a regular basis, so I should keep my eyes open. One of the less well known bands I saw was called Bipolar Bass. Personally I think The Bipolar Bears would have made for a better name.
I had an interesting session with the psychologist on Tuesday. We discussed my self-inflicted injury during last weekend's tennis match. Occasionally I just lose it. Fortunately (so far at least) I've only ever lost it with myself, but I hope in future I can think my way out of reacting in that way. I'm confident I can make the change, but because everything happens in a split second it won't be easy. Later that evening I played pool with the men's group; this made a nice change from our usual meetings even if I am utterly crap at pool.
Many of my colleagues had their exams this week. Some others, those outside our team, asked me which exam I was doing. Finding an explanation for why I wasn't doing one (or more) this time wasn't easy, but a lot better than going through the motions of sitting an exam.
Last night I tried playing two freerolls simultaneously. Despite the odd misclick or panic-induced misjudgement the experience was largely successful. I finished 161st in the single draw, just inside the top 5%, while in the badugi I qualified in 48th place, surviving an all-in with a jack.
Rugby sevens and golf will both be included in the 2016 Olympics, which we learnt just this week will be held in Rio de Janeiro. Rugby sevens will be a great addition to the Games (and could well increase the Kiwi medal tally), but golf? What were they thinking? Golf already has its four majors every year, so at best an Olympic gold medal will become the fifth most cherished prize in the sport, some way down the pecking order from your Claret Jug and Green Jacket. Surely an Olympic gold medal should represent the pinnacle of a sport, the number one event in the calendar. Not the number five. For that reason alone, neither golf nor tennis should be there.
To continue the sporting "what the …?" theme, in less than seven hours from now New Zealand are playing their most important football match since 1982, but you wouldn't know it. The All Whites are about to take on Bahrain in the first leg of their World Cup qualifying play-off, but the sports headlines are dominated by rugby, cricket, league, motorsport, rugby, netball and rugby. I just don't get it.
Tomorrow I've got more interclub tennis. Who knows, we might even win a match point.
On Thursday I went to a mental health awareness concert at the King's Arms in Newton with three other blokes from our group. A real eclectic mix, you might say. I loved the venue and it seems they have well known bands there on a regular basis, so I should keep my eyes open. One of the less well known bands I saw was called Bipolar Bass. Personally I think The Bipolar Bears would have made for a better name.
I had an interesting session with the psychologist on Tuesday. We discussed my self-inflicted injury during last weekend's tennis match. Occasionally I just lose it. Fortunately (so far at least) I've only ever lost it with myself, but I hope in future I can think my way out of reacting in that way. I'm confident I can make the change, but because everything happens in a split second it won't be easy. Later that evening I played pool with the men's group; this made a nice change from our usual meetings even if I am utterly crap at pool.
Many of my colleagues had their exams this week. Some others, those outside our team, asked me which exam I was doing. Finding an explanation for why I wasn't doing one (or more) this time wasn't easy, but a lot better than going through the motions of sitting an exam.
Last night I tried playing two freerolls simultaneously. Despite the odd misclick or panic-induced misjudgement the experience was largely successful. I finished 161st in the single draw, just inside the top 5%, while in the badugi I qualified in 48th place, surviving an all-in with a jack.
Rugby sevens and golf will both be included in the 2016 Olympics, which we learnt just this week will be held in Rio de Janeiro. Rugby sevens will be a great addition to the Games (and could well increase the Kiwi medal tally), but golf? What were they thinking? Golf already has its four majors every year, so at best an Olympic gold medal will become the fifth most cherished prize in the sport, some way down the pecking order from your Claret Jug and Green Jacket. Surely an Olympic gold medal should represent the pinnacle of a sport, the number one event in the calendar. Not the number five. For that reason alone, neither golf nor tennis should be there.
To continue the sporting "what the …?" theme, in less than seven hours from now New Zealand are playing their most important football match since 1982, but you wouldn't know it. The All Whites are about to take on Bahrain in the first leg of their World Cup qualifying play-off, but the sports headlines are dominated by rugby, cricket, league, motorsport, rugby, netball and rugby. I just don't get it.
Tomorrow I've got more interclub tennis. Who knows, we might even win a match point.
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