My new flatmate just called me to say he's running late, so that's given me the chance to write something here.
Yesterday I didn't want to get back to Wellington and this never-ending cycle of impossibility. I was hoping some massive storm would brew up and we'd circle for a while before being diverted somewhere, anywhere, I wouldn't have cared.
I felt pretty terrible a lot of the time I was away. Sometimes I was visibly upset, and that made Mum upset and both my parents very worried. I was still able to do things, but most of the time I felt sick to the stomach and like I was running through treacle. Mum took me out for tennis three times - we just hit the ball; no scoring. I was hopeless the first time, much better the second time, and dreadful again the third time. Mum was rusty to begin with but steadily improved - if she played competitive age-group tennis I'm sure she'd do really well. The last time we played, a bloke perhaps a shade older than me turned up with his two small daughters on bikes with stabilisers. He was cleaning up the area around the courts. His girls were clearly giving him a lot of pleasure and this made me upset because in all likelihood it's a pleasure I'll never experience.
Mum even took me to the golf course - we did nine holes but I didn't even finish some of them. I hit trees, mounds, boundary fence posts, even the trolley once. Sometimes I hit nothing at all, not even the ball. I would have racked up scores well into double figures on a few occasions if I'd been counting. And amongst all of that I managed a par three.
On Friday we saw Captain Phillips at the cinema in Geraldine. It was a gripping, if rather scary film about Somali pirates. It starred Tom Hanks and was based on a true story. My brother has been on armed patrol ships in the Gulf of Aden - most of the time he didn't have a lot to do.
Before going to the cinema we had fish and chips. I think I could have eaten my plateful all over again.
We talked about the few months I spent down in South Canterbury before moving to Auckland. I was very organised and motivated in my job search. One afternoon I drove into Timaru and knocked on doors of banks and finance companies (both South Canterbury Finance and Mascot Finance were in existence then). I had a chat with a very pleasant woman at BNZ. She eventually offered me a job, but by that stage I'd already taken the actuarial job in Auckland. Things could have turned out very differently. (Nearly all the jobs I applied for were in Christchurch or Canterbury. Maybe a couple were Wellington-based. Only one was in Auckland.)
We met my uncle; he's done much better with his lung cancer than anyone predicted. But his cough was back and he was extremely negative about, well, pretty much everything. Regarding the situation in Christchurch, he said they should take dynamite to the cathedral with Gerry Brownlee inside it.
I started this blog five years ago. Things are a lot, lot worse than they were then, and I've now got five fewer years to remedy the situation. The good news is that my counsellor is back on the scene and I'll be seeing her on Tuesday. And the flatmate is, on balance, good news too. Having someone to talk to should make a big difference.
Showing posts with label flatmates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flatmates. Show all posts
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Tennis final, biking, post-quake Christchurch, etc.
I've been feeling seriously rubbish again the last few days. Zero concentration. Zero motivation. And zero medication - a nice idea at the time, but it doesn't seem to be working.
My soon-to-be-flatmate came over with his dad on Sunday. When I told him about the earthquake business he got a bit jittery, and I thought he might pull out completely. I was having second thoughts too. He showed me his (expired) driver's licence with a 1977 date of birth. He's older than I thought. He's clearly had problems but what I don't know. And would you believe it, his younger brother has only just moved into another flat in the same block. That's not necessarily a bad thing. On balance I'm positive about living with another person for the first time in ages, even if the landlord thing is new territory for me.
I followed the men's final on the radio, half-hoping that Nadal would make a fast start so I could fall asleep safe in the knowledge that he was well on the way to yet another grand slam (even though I really wanted Wawrinka to pull an upset). Nobody could have predicted the ultra-bizarro match that ensued. The commentators (who included the wonderful Chanda Rubin for much of the second week) were excellent as always - a web of intrigue was being spun, and they conveyed that brilliantly. I was so glad Stan the Man came good in the fourth set, even if his victory was tainted a bit by Nadal's injury. A five-set comeback win for Nadal would have sent the controversy level off the scale.
On Monday morning I met one of the underwriters as she was walking to work. I was about to hop on the airport bus. "Have a good time," she said. "You too." That shows you how my brain was working. Or not. Wellington Airport is currently decked out with a huge eagle - which came down in last week's earthquake - and a Gollum. The flight to Timaru was pain-free as usual. Being over the wing I couldn't see a lot. All I could make out were big green dartboards carved out by irrigators, with the pivot as the bull's eye. It's amazing how sophisticated these giant irrigators are - they're all computer-controlled, and some of them are clever enough to jump over fences. The plane arrived ten minutes early and when I got out, wow, sunshine. Where has that been?
Mum kindly recorded the tennis for me, and I watched all four crazy sets. Perhaps the biggest moment came as Wawrinka served at 5-3 in the first set. He went love-40 down and couldn't buy a first serve, but Nadal was unable to get any of those second balls back in play. It was a weird set, but then things got a whole lot weirder. At the end it was good to see the two players being so friendly, even if Nadal surely wanted to get the hell out of there.
Even if you're not a tennis fan you should watch Li Na's speech after she won - it's absolutely priceless.
On Tuesday I was all over the place. I looked at some government jobs online, with little focus, and found one that was closing the next day. After lunch I took Dad's bike out - it was sunny and the exercise was likely to benefit me. I hadn't ridden a bike for I don't know how long, and I must have done 25 km at least, muttering to myself most of the way, trying to remember what that job was all about. It felt strange cycling on these straight Canterbury roads that stretch out seemingly into infinity. I'd see a truck or a milk tanker in the distance and it would take forever to go by. When I got back I applied for that job, but it was a strange application somehow. Later a couple from the UK arrived - they were staying the night and flying home from Christchurch the next morning. They'd been touring around the South Island, doing the Otago Rail Trail and a spot of Morris dancing.
Yesterday Dad drove us all to Christchurch. After dropping the British couple off at the airport, we had a look at the city. It was the first time I'd seen it since the earthquakes. Holy hell. It looked even worse than I'd imagined. The heart of the city was totally gutted. The streets on the map were still there, but they'd been reduced to almost a bare grid. To think that all that destruction happened in seconds. I couldn't get over the number of containers. They were everywhere. Some were used to shore up building frontages. It was a bright sunny day but it was eerily quiet in what used to be the CBD. An exception was the new Cashel Mall, which was a vibrant array of container shops. It worked very well. A bloke was playing a flute and singing opera. He seemed to suffer from some sort of tic, but he was very good. I happily gave him some money. He was angry when a group of Maori performers turned up and stole his spot. I hear some big company wants to get rid of the Cashel Mall containers and build something imposing. That would be a shame.
We then drove to Lyttelton, where my ancestors arrived 150 years ago. It's a lovely town but was hit hard by the quakes and resulting landslides.
I'll put up some photos from yesterday if and when I get the chance.
My soon-to-be-flatmate came over with his dad on Sunday. When I told him about the earthquake business he got a bit jittery, and I thought he might pull out completely. I was having second thoughts too. He showed me his (expired) driver's licence with a 1977 date of birth. He's older than I thought. He's clearly had problems but what I don't know. And would you believe it, his younger brother has only just moved into another flat in the same block. That's not necessarily a bad thing. On balance I'm positive about living with another person for the first time in ages, even if the landlord thing is new territory for me.
I followed the men's final on the radio, half-hoping that Nadal would make a fast start so I could fall asleep safe in the knowledge that he was well on the way to yet another grand slam (even though I really wanted Wawrinka to pull an upset). Nobody could have predicted the ultra-bizarro match that ensued. The commentators (who included the wonderful Chanda Rubin for much of the second week) were excellent as always - a web of intrigue was being spun, and they conveyed that brilliantly. I was so glad Stan the Man came good in the fourth set, even if his victory was tainted a bit by Nadal's injury. A five-set comeback win for Nadal would have sent the controversy level off the scale.
On Monday morning I met one of the underwriters as she was walking to work. I was about to hop on the airport bus. "Have a good time," she said. "You too." That shows you how my brain was working. Or not. Wellington Airport is currently decked out with a huge eagle - which came down in last week's earthquake - and a Gollum. The flight to Timaru was pain-free as usual. Being over the wing I couldn't see a lot. All I could make out were big green dartboards carved out by irrigators, with the pivot as the bull's eye. It's amazing how sophisticated these giant irrigators are - they're all computer-controlled, and some of them are clever enough to jump over fences. The plane arrived ten minutes early and when I got out, wow, sunshine. Where has that been?
Mum kindly recorded the tennis for me, and I watched all four crazy sets. Perhaps the biggest moment came as Wawrinka served at 5-3 in the first set. He went love-40 down and couldn't buy a first serve, but Nadal was unable to get any of those second balls back in play. It was a weird set, but then things got a whole lot weirder. At the end it was good to see the two players being so friendly, even if Nadal surely wanted to get the hell out of there.
Even if you're not a tennis fan you should watch Li Na's speech after she won - it's absolutely priceless.
On Tuesday I was all over the place. I looked at some government jobs online, with little focus, and found one that was closing the next day. After lunch I took Dad's bike out - it was sunny and the exercise was likely to benefit me. I hadn't ridden a bike for I don't know how long, and I must have done 25 km at least, muttering to myself most of the way, trying to remember what that job was all about. It felt strange cycling on these straight Canterbury roads that stretch out seemingly into infinity. I'd see a truck or a milk tanker in the distance and it would take forever to go by. When I got back I applied for that job, but it was a strange application somehow. Later a couple from the UK arrived - they were staying the night and flying home from Christchurch the next morning. They'd been touring around the South Island, doing the Otago Rail Trail and a spot of Morris dancing.
Yesterday Dad drove us all to Christchurch. After dropping the British couple off at the airport, we had a look at the city. It was the first time I'd seen it since the earthquakes. Holy hell. It looked even worse than I'd imagined. The heart of the city was totally gutted. The streets on the map were still there, but they'd been reduced to almost a bare grid. To think that all that destruction happened in seconds. I couldn't get over the number of containers. They were everywhere. Some were used to shore up building frontages. It was a bright sunny day but it was eerily quiet in what used to be the CBD. An exception was the new Cashel Mall, which was a vibrant array of container shops. It worked very well. A bloke was playing a flute and singing opera. He seemed to suffer from some sort of tic, but he was very good. I happily gave him some money. He was angry when a group of Maori performers turned up and stole his spot. I hear some big company wants to get rid of the Cashel Mall containers and build something imposing. That would be a shame.
We then drove to Lyttelton, where my ancestors arrived 150 years ago. It's a lovely town but was hit hard by the quakes and resulting landslides.
I'll put up some photos from yesterday if and when I get the chance.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Flatting and statting
It looks like I've got a flatmate. I was iffy about this guy - who is probably thirtyish - when he phoned me yesterday, but when he came over with his dad last night he seemed like quite a safe option. He's embarking a two-year web design course - the school/college is just a short walk from here. Last night they were frantically measuring things and deciding on where certain items of furniture would go, as if they'd already moved in. Unsurprisingly the guy rang me today to say he's keen to move in; I've promised to show someone around tomorrow so I couldn't quite give him the OK, but I did say he was well in the lead. It'll be strange living with another person - it's nearly seven years since I last did so.
I listened to almost all of Stan the Man Wawrinka's stunning win over Djokovic on Tuesday night (and paid for it the next day). It was one of those times I really wished I had Sky, although the commentators paint a pretty good picture. I was glad Wawrinka won. He dominated the middle part of the match, and was able to hold off Djokovic with some big first serves on the crucial points in the fifth set. From the commentary, he was the deserving winner (and I was surprised to find out that he won eight fewer points than his opponent - it goes to show how important the big points are). It's nice to see the one-handed backhand come back - it just looks good. Just think of Federer's one-hander. I'd love to see Wawrinka win the whole thing now; that outcome isn't totally out of the question.
Now for some boring (to most people) tennis stats and probability stuff. It would seem that matches where the loser wins the most points are more common than I thought. From what I read online, Federer has lost 24 matches in his career having won the most points, which is a lot when you think how little losing he's done. On the other side of the coin, John Isner has been out-pointed in 20 of his career wins, including that match. He hasn't been on the tour all that long, so to rack up 20 such victories already is no mean feat. It might almost be a mindset thing for him - he'll do enough to hang on to his serve, maybe not put that much effort into the return games, and then put all his energy into the tie-break which he excels at, probably because he gets so much practice at them.
Although I never had point tallies when I played interclub, I'm pretty sure a couple of my singles wins saw me win less than half the points, and if that kind of thing even happened to me at the standard I played at, it must happen quite a lot to the pros where serve dominates, matches are generally closer, and individual points can be much more important.
I mentioned this before, but the Australian Open website gives you a plethora of facts and figures and charts and graphs for each match, and most of it isn't worth looking at. Like the "keys to the match". One of Djokovic's "keys" in his match with Wawrinka was "average more than 7.2 points per game returning". What?! I can see the idea of that I suppose. Lots of long return games means he's making good inroads into Wawrinka's service games. But 7.2 is a really high average. (If all points were 50:50, regardless of who serves, you'd get to 6.75, and any advantage to the server would only decrease this average.) It would take something quite bizarre to reach 7.2 in a long men's match, like a player being dominant on serve on the deuce side but struggling badly on the ad side. Frankly it looks like that figure was plucked out of thin air. Unsurprisingly, Djokovic didn't reach the target (it says he averaged 6.8, but that doesn't tally with the stats - 170 points in 26 return games gives an average of 6.54, which is actually still quite high).
I spoke to Mum tonight following Cibulkova's upset thrashing of Radwanska in the semis. Cibulkova is about the same height as Mum, but their physical similarities end right there. The Czech player blasted an out-of-sorts Radwanska off the court to set up a final with Li Na.
I listened to almost all of Stan the Man Wawrinka's stunning win over Djokovic on Tuesday night (and paid for it the next day). It was one of those times I really wished I had Sky, although the commentators paint a pretty good picture. I was glad Wawrinka won. He dominated the middle part of the match, and was able to hold off Djokovic with some big first serves on the crucial points in the fifth set. From the commentary, he was the deserving winner (and I was surprised to find out that he won eight fewer points than his opponent - it goes to show how important the big points are). It's nice to see the one-handed backhand come back - it just looks good. Just think of Federer's one-hander. I'd love to see Wawrinka win the whole thing now; that outcome isn't totally out of the question.
Now for some boring (to most people) tennis stats and probability stuff. It would seem that matches where the loser wins the most points are more common than I thought. From what I read online, Federer has lost 24 matches in his career having won the most points, which is a lot when you think how little losing he's done. On the other side of the coin, John Isner has been out-pointed in 20 of his career wins, including that match. He hasn't been on the tour all that long, so to rack up 20 such victories already is no mean feat. It might almost be a mindset thing for him - he'll do enough to hang on to his serve, maybe not put that much effort into the return games, and then put all his energy into the tie-break which he excels at, probably because he gets so much practice at them.
Although I never had point tallies when I played interclub, I'm pretty sure a couple of my singles wins saw me win less than half the points, and if that kind of thing even happened to me at the standard I played at, it must happen quite a lot to the pros where serve dominates, matches are generally closer, and individual points can be much more important.
I mentioned this before, but the Australian Open website gives you a plethora of facts and figures and charts and graphs for each match, and most of it isn't worth looking at. Like the "keys to the match". One of Djokovic's "keys" in his match with Wawrinka was "average more than 7.2 points per game returning". What?! I can see the idea of that I suppose. Lots of long return games means he's making good inroads into Wawrinka's service games. But 7.2 is a really high average. (If all points were 50:50, regardless of who serves, you'd get to 6.75, and any advantage to the server would only decrease this average.) It would take something quite bizarre to reach 7.2 in a long men's match, like a player being dominant on serve on the deuce side but struggling badly on the ad side. Frankly it looks like that figure was plucked out of thin air. Unsurprisingly, Djokovic didn't reach the target (it says he averaged 6.8, but that doesn't tally with the stats - 170 points in 26 return games gives an average of 6.54, which is actually still quite high).
I spoke to Mum tonight following Cibulkova's upset thrashing of Radwanska in the semis. Cibulkova is about the same height as Mum, but their physical similarities end right there. The Czech player blasted an out-of-sorts Radwanska off the court to set up a final with Li Na.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Release of energy
Although my work situation isn't filling me with happiness, depression-wise I haven't been too bad in the last week or two. It goes to show that unhappiness and depression are two quite different things. But yesterday there were signs that I was making a descent, and today I went into a tailspin. Right on cue, we had a significant earthquake shortly before 4pm today, which lasted about thirty seconds but of course felt longer. The epicentre was in a different location to the big shakes we had last winter; it was close to Eketahuna, 33 km deep, and measured a hefty 6.2. I sent the tennis commentators a message, to say how good their commentary was and to mention the earthquake, and they read it out.
I was at home today - it was Wellington Anniversary - and it's just as well I've only got a four-day work week before I go away (I'm going down south next Monday). My only real team-mate has taken the week off, my boss hasn't, and I'm feeling like crap and with little energy, not far off how I felt over the Christmas/New Year period.
I put an ad on NZ Flatmates and got a surprising number of inquiries, more than I did from TradeMe. And of course that's a good thing. But having to even think about flatmates or jobs or anything like that feels beyond me.
I was at home today - it was Wellington Anniversary - and it's just as well I've only got a four-day work week before I go away (I'm going down south next Monday). My only real team-mate has taken the week off, my boss hasn't, and I'm feeling like crap and with little energy, not far off how I felt over the Christmas/New Year period.
I put an ad on NZ Flatmates and got a surprising number of inquiries, more than I did from TradeMe. And of course that's a good thing. But having to even think about flatmates or jobs or anything like that feels beyond me.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
The beginning of the end (again)
It's well after 4am and I haven't slept a wink, so I might as well write something here. I had my performance review with my boss yesterday (I think I have to call it yesterday now) which was even uglier than I expected. I really took a hammering. My input two months ago probably didn't help. I think it's fair to say that the writing's on the wall; the clock is most definitely ticking. I won't be fired, not yet anyway, but life will gradually be made harder for me over the coming weeks (and months, if I get that far) until either I'm managed out or I'm so depressed that I won't manage at all. Of course my performance is no worse than it was a year ago, and if it wasn't for the regime change I probably would have been fine. So the big question is, while I've still got a job, what do I look for now? I'm not going anywhere near life insurance again, that's for sure. And I need to get flatmates. Plural.I found an excellent article about depression and work here.
I emailed the link to the app around the office on Monday. Most people would have ignored or deleted it, but my boss installed it! She got through the first six levels impressively quickly, then went back to level 287 (or whatever) of Candy Crush. Releasing an app on the market should feel like a big achievement, but it really just feels like I've hobbled over the start line of a marathon.
There's a Beatles tribute band playing tomorrow night, um, tonight, at the Botanic Gardens. I'll be going there with Martin, and yawning through the whole thing no doubt.
(I had another "Beginning of the end" in 2009.)
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Possibilities
So the Christmas party came and went. It wasn't that bad. I was very glad I missed the events of the afternoon, pictures of which formed a never-ending slide show. The food was good. I drank enough to look like I was almost participating, but not enough to put me out of commission for the next day (which, I'm guessing, is less than it once was). One of my older colleagues impressed me as she told me about her vinyl collection (5000 records). The event didn't finish till midnight and some people would have carried on at some establishment (The Establishment?) on Courtenay Place, but I sloped off at about nine. The chances are (70%?) I won't be attending next year's party.
I got an email on Friday that made me a bit more optimistic about 2014. It wouldn't take much (just one or two lowish-probability events that appear to be outside my influence!) for things get much better, and for all kinds of possibilities to open up, and break the cycle of impossibility that I've found myself in.
On Thursday night another British guy took a look at my flat. He'd seen the Pak 'n' Save ad, not the TradeMe one; the demographics of the two would be slightly different. He'd be a bit older than the other guy, maybe my kind of age. He worked as a tree surgeon and was still in his work clothes. I'd be more than happy for him to move in, but it seemed he needed somewhere a bit sooner than I could offer. I feel a bit funny showing people around (although it was easier with him than the younger bloke). Why has he got this much space to himself? Did his wife leave him and take the kids with her?
Mum and Dad will be spending Christmas with me. They're staying from the 22nd (next Sunday) to the 28th. I'm looking forward to it. My cousin wants us to go over to their place but my parents aren't that keen, and neither am I. We want to keep things as low-key as possible, especially after last year when things got high-key rather quickly.
I played a lot of MGMT on my week off. Yesterday I heard a song by Elton John on the radio called Grey Seal - luckily it was on the Sound and I was able to search their playlist and find it. I'd only ever heard it a couple of times before. Great song, even though I'm not sure what the lyrics mean. I must check out more of his stuff.
I didn't go to the cricket but I snapped this picture of the scoreboard on Friday - the third, and as it happened, last day of NZ's win over the West Indies. It doesn't make happy reading for the Windies - you can see that their last four batsmen were all bowled for a duck in the first innings, and they were forced to follow on. I note that they had both a Samuels and a Sammy on the team - there must be some joke there about playing it again.
Tomorrow the autism group have their Christmas party. Plenty of new faces have appeared this year, and some have gone too. The only male facilitator we had - the one whose football team reached the semi-finals of the Chatham Cup - left because he was too busy. That's a shame - he was a thoroughly nice bloke, and he provided some balance to the other facilitators.
I got an email on Friday that made me a bit more optimistic about 2014. It wouldn't take much (just one or two lowish-probability events that appear to be outside my influence!) for things get much better, and for all kinds of possibilities to open up, and break the cycle of impossibility that I've found myself in.
On Thursday night another British guy took a look at my flat. He'd seen the Pak 'n' Save ad, not the TradeMe one; the demographics of the two would be slightly different. He'd be a bit older than the other guy, maybe my kind of age. He worked as a tree surgeon and was still in his work clothes. I'd be more than happy for him to move in, but it seemed he needed somewhere a bit sooner than I could offer. I feel a bit funny showing people around (although it was easier with him than the younger bloke). Why has he got this much space to himself? Did his wife leave him and take the kids with her?
Mum and Dad will be spending Christmas with me. They're staying from the 22nd (next Sunday) to the 28th. I'm looking forward to it. My cousin wants us to go over to their place but my parents aren't that keen, and neither am I. We want to keep things as low-key as possible, especially after last year when things got high-key rather quickly.I played a lot of MGMT on my week off. Yesterday I heard a song by Elton John on the radio called Grey Seal - luckily it was on the Sound and I was able to search their playlist and find it. I'd only ever heard it a couple of times before. Great song, even though I'm not sure what the lyrics mean. I must check out more of his stuff.
I didn't go to the cricket but I snapped this picture of the scoreboard on Friday - the third, and as it happened, last day of NZ's win over the West Indies. It doesn't make happy reading for the Windies - you can see that their last four batsmen were all bowled for a duck in the first innings, and they were forced to follow on. I note that they had both a Samuels and a Sammy on the team - there must be some joke there about playing it again.
Tomorrow the autism group have their Christmas party. Plenty of new faces have appeared this year, and some have gone too. The only male facilitator we had - the one whose football team reached the semi-finals of the Chatham Cup - left because he was too busy. That's a shame - he was a thoroughly nice bloke, and he provided some balance to the other facilitators.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
28/11/03
I advertised for a flatmate on TradeMe last night and have already had someone take a look. He's British and has only been in the country a couple of months. He knew exactly where St Ives was, because he graduated from Cambridge as recently as 2011. So he's a clever bugger. He now works as a geologist (interesting job) in town. He almost turned a blind eye to the whole earthquake-risk business (he missed the big quakes we had in August and September). It was funny showing him around. I feel a bit embarrassed by how big my place is considering I live here alone. I'm not sure about him: practically he'd be fine I think, but his youthful exuberance might get a bit much. A 32-year-old German woman, who works at the hospital, has expressed interest too.
I arrived in New Zealand ten years ago today. What an absolutely stunning day that was. Not a cloud in the sky; as we drove from Christchurch to Temuka the sun was mind-blowingly bright as it lit up the snow-capped Four Peaks. Perhaps being zonked from spending 24 hours on a plane actually enhanced that experience. Today has been quite the opposite (admittedly in a part of the country that experiences "the opposite" more often than Canterbury does). It started off grey and drizzly, just the sort of day you get when you land at Heathrow and go home via the M25. Then around lunchtime the drizzle turned into proper rain, and it's been properly raining ever since.
Ten years, or 3653 days, is a long time. I don't feel like I've achieved much in that time but maybe my own expectations are too high. In 2004 and '05 I gradually became more and more Kiwified, going on road trips and getting to know which rugby team plays where. But that Kiwification has since unravelled and I no longer feel especially attached to any country (I do however feel some affinity with Wellington now). I should mention Mum - she spent thirty years in the UK, got married and brought up two kids there, and when she came back to her old stomping ground of Geraldine to live, it was like she'd been away for thirty minutes.
Silvio Berlusconi has been kicked out of parliament after being convicted for tax fraud. My only response to that: Hooray! What a nasty piece of work.
Here a couple of recent Joe Bennett articles that I liked. There's this gem about people's smartphones being chucked in the Avon river, and this one about pronunciation of French words in English, a subject I touched on in this post last month.
I arrived in New Zealand ten years ago today. What an absolutely stunning day that was. Not a cloud in the sky; as we drove from Christchurch to Temuka the sun was mind-blowingly bright as it lit up the snow-capped Four Peaks. Perhaps being zonked from spending 24 hours on a plane actually enhanced that experience. Today has been quite the opposite (admittedly in a part of the country that experiences "the opposite" more often than Canterbury does). It started off grey and drizzly, just the sort of day you get when you land at Heathrow and go home via the M25. Then around lunchtime the drizzle turned into proper rain, and it's been properly raining ever since.
Ten years, or 3653 days, is a long time. I don't feel like I've achieved much in that time but maybe my own expectations are too high. In 2004 and '05 I gradually became more and more Kiwified, going on road trips and getting to know which rugby team plays where. But that Kiwification has since unravelled and I no longer feel especially attached to any country (I do however feel some affinity with Wellington now). I should mention Mum - she spent thirty years in the UK, got married and brought up two kids there, and when she came back to her old stomping ground of Geraldine to live, it was like she'd been away for thirty minutes.
Silvio Berlusconi has been kicked out of parliament after being convicted for tax fraud. My only response to that: Hooray! What a nasty piece of work.
Here a couple of recent Joe Bennett articles that I liked. There's this gem about people's smartphones being chucked in the Avon river, and this one about pronunciation of French words in English, a subject I touched on in this post last month.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
A matter of life and death
Yesterday morning, my time, my actuary friend from Birmingham emailed me. His father had passed away. He had been ill for a very long time. When my friend was just three he suffered a heart attack; he had to "watch himself" ever since. In the last few years he got steadily worse. He survived longer than anyone expected, and it is of some consolation that he was around to see his daughter's wedding in April of this year. I didn't meet him very often - the last time was when I visited the UK in 2010 - but he struck me as a very kind, warm-hearted (if ailing) man. I wrote my friend an email this evening, or attempted to. What do you say? I said that his dad must have been very proud of his son, and he couldn't have had a better son to look after him. Which was true. It was only when I wrote back, from the quiet of my living room, that the passing of such a kind, gentle bloke really hit me.
In other (far better) news, my own father got his results back from his prostate biopsy and he's been given the all-clear. That's a huge weight off his mind. It's not just the cancer, it's all the treatment and horrible side-effects - incontinence, extreme fatigue, and whatever else. And the fact that so many false-positives from the biopsy render all that treatment unnecessary. All in all, it's a big sigh of relief.
I didn't mention the results of the blood test I had a couple of weeks ago. Which means they were good, or else I surely would have mentioned them by now. My thyroid is working perfectly normally and I'm not at risk of diabetes. Cholesterol is still a slight concern. My level of bad (LDL) cholesterol is down, but the good (HDL) stuff is down too, so my ratio, which is what they worry about these days, has hardly changed. My doctor said I should take all cholesterol readings with a bucket of salt (which, funnily enough, contains zero cholesterol).
Last night Tracy, Tom and I played a co-operative board game called Mice and Mystics. There are mice, who are the good guys, and a variety of bad guys such as rats, spiders, centipedes and cockroaches. And of course a cat, although we didn't come across him (or her) last night. The game is in fact a story comprising eleven chapters; you can play just one chapter (as we did last night) or a full "campaign" that follows the story from start to finish. We each took on the part of a different mouse, each with its own special powers. Tom's mouse, for instance, was fast and agile with a prehensile tail which could carry a weapon. My mouse, by contrast, was slow and plodding but it wielded a sodding great hammer that could knock out anything that came near it (if the right symbols came up on the four dice I rolled). The currency used in the game wasn't money or gold or silver, but cheese. I was impressed by how one bloke could think of such an intricate story, and then turn it into a playable board game. The game pieces were a work of art, literally as we found out - Tracy had painstakingly painted them with a fine brush, except the centipede and spider which she hadn't got around to yet. We ended up losing the game through a series of unlucky dice rolls; in fact we did well to last as long as we did. I got a bit confused with all the rules, but Tracy was always able to clarify matters. Mice and Mystics is a new game; the only similarity with the much older Risk is the amount of dice-rolling involved. Hopefully we'll try a few more games. In spite of its flaws Risk is probably still my favourite: it'll take something to beat the smell you get when you open the box.
Tom emailed me tonight. Now he wants to move into my flat. Oh shit. I didn't even read his whole email. I saw he wrote "no pressure" but I know I'll feel a shit-ton of pressure if he moves in. He can't move in. I can play board games with him, exchange emails and ideas with him, and chat with him in person. But not live with him. I wouldn't be able to relax. How on earth I tell him it's a no-go I don't know.
Some people in my team at work have joined a football team. They asked me if I was interested. "I'm really just a watcher." This Friday they've got a get-pissed-and-do-karaoke night. Either I go, and feel horribly out of place, or stay at home (which would be the far easier, and cheaper, option). I drift further apart from them whatever I do. Then in a couple of weeks they've got the Christmas party. This isn't my favourite time of year.
I'm obviously not a proper Kiwi (more about that in my next post) because I think it's a shame Ireland didn't hang on to beat, or at least draw with, the All Blacks. Not that I watched the game or anything.
In other (far better) news, my own father got his results back from his prostate biopsy and he's been given the all-clear. That's a huge weight off his mind. It's not just the cancer, it's all the treatment and horrible side-effects - incontinence, extreme fatigue, and whatever else. And the fact that so many false-positives from the biopsy render all that treatment unnecessary. All in all, it's a big sigh of relief.
I didn't mention the results of the blood test I had a couple of weeks ago. Which means they were good, or else I surely would have mentioned them by now. My thyroid is working perfectly normally and I'm not at risk of diabetes. Cholesterol is still a slight concern. My level of bad (LDL) cholesterol is down, but the good (HDL) stuff is down too, so my ratio, which is what they worry about these days, has hardly changed. My doctor said I should take all cholesterol readings with a bucket of salt (which, funnily enough, contains zero cholesterol).
Last night Tracy, Tom and I played a co-operative board game called Mice and Mystics. There are mice, who are the good guys, and a variety of bad guys such as rats, spiders, centipedes and cockroaches. And of course a cat, although we didn't come across him (or her) last night. The game is in fact a story comprising eleven chapters; you can play just one chapter (as we did last night) or a full "campaign" that follows the story from start to finish. We each took on the part of a different mouse, each with its own special powers. Tom's mouse, for instance, was fast and agile with a prehensile tail which could carry a weapon. My mouse, by contrast, was slow and plodding but it wielded a sodding great hammer that could knock out anything that came near it (if the right symbols came up on the four dice I rolled). The currency used in the game wasn't money or gold or silver, but cheese. I was impressed by how one bloke could think of such an intricate story, and then turn it into a playable board game. The game pieces were a work of art, literally as we found out - Tracy had painstakingly painted them with a fine brush, except the centipede and spider which she hadn't got around to yet. We ended up losing the game through a series of unlucky dice rolls; in fact we did well to last as long as we did. I got a bit confused with all the rules, but Tracy was always able to clarify matters. Mice and Mystics is a new game; the only similarity with the much older Risk is the amount of dice-rolling involved. Hopefully we'll try a few more games. In spite of its flaws Risk is probably still my favourite: it'll take something to beat the smell you get when you open the box.
Tom emailed me tonight. Now he wants to move into my flat. Oh shit. I didn't even read his whole email. I saw he wrote "no pressure" but I know I'll feel a shit-ton of pressure if he moves in. He can't move in. I can play board games with him, exchange emails and ideas with him, and chat with him in person. But not live with him. I wouldn't be able to relax. How on earth I tell him it's a no-go I don't know.
Some people in my team at work have joined a football team. They asked me if I was interested. "I'm really just a watcher." This Friday they've got a get-pissed-and-do-karaoke night. Either I go, and feel horribly out of place, or stay at home (which would be the far easier, and cheaper, option). I drift further apart from them whatever I do. Then in a couple of weeks they've got the Christmas party. This isn't my favourite time of year.
I'm obviously not a proper Kiwi (more about that in my next post) because I think it's a shame Ireland didn't hang on to beat, or at least draw with, the All Blacks. Not that I watched the game or anything.
Monday, October 7, 2013
The only way is up
Saturday's tramp was every bit as exhausting as expected, but I felt so much better for it. We did a loop, walking to the top of Kapakapanui the steep way, and coming back down the not-so-steep (but plenty steep enough for me) way. Only four of us did the walk, if you can call it that because all four limbs were required. The summit was at an altitude of 1100 metres, a 960-metre climb from the starting point. We waded through a stream at the beginning; I quickly felt out of my depth. I'd expended a lot of nervous energy in the previous two days and that probably didn't help. This was the steepest part of the track. My heart was pounding and I struggled to keep up; the leader put me at the front. After that I kept up a decent pace, with The Only Way Is Up playing in my head. We saw four mountain goats including a baby one (a kid of course). It felt good to reach the top. The low cloud meant we couldn't see a thing up there, certainly not the amazing view you get in the brochure. 
We had lunch up there and gradually made our way down, stopping briefly at a DOC hut. It wasn't an easy descent - it was extremely muddy and slippery. Just as I could feel my feet warming up, they were back in the cold water: we crossed the stream nine times at the bottom. I felt pretty good at the end - I could do with this sort of workout more often.I did the driving - about an hour each way. As I said before, I get nervous when I'm carrying multiple passengers because it's something I rarely do, and I always think I'm being judged. I shouldn't have been too worried on Saturday - everybody was nicely subdued. My car is more suited to this kind of driving than what I normally do around the city. When I lived in Auckland I went on long drives at the weekends all the time, but that's when I was younger and didn't have to worry about money so much (isn't it supposed to work the other way?).
On Friday we had our after-work boat trip. My stomach had been churning and I'd made regular trips to the loo - I'd been dreading it, not the boat bit but the people bit. The boat was quite a majestic catamaran that our company had chartered. There were two resident dogs - a Dalmatian and a Japanese Spitz. The sea was almost totally calm, making for a very pleasant trip out to Somes Island and back. One of my colleagues, we found out, lived on a boat for five years. “And now I’m working for …” She prefixed the name of the company with "effing". It's always interesting talking to her. Unlike some people in her role (taking calls from customers) she hasn't been institutionalised by working for an insurance company. The people bit, yes, that was hard work, as was the bit where they gave out awards for amazing this or awesome that. One award was a monetary prize for getting the most points (how you get points I don't really know). The woman who received the most points, by a mile, had just left the company, and there was a tie for second place. How did they resolve that? By splitting it 50:50 (money is good like that - it splits easily)? No, by tossing a coin. When we got back on land, some people continued their evening in a bar. It was nice having the next morning's tramp as a valid excuse - I got home around eleven.
Yesterday morning I rang Dad - he's in the UK until the end of the month, sorting out furniture for their latest flat. My brother was out. His mood has lifted immeasurably since he got back to England. He still has a short temper though - it's a trait he's got from Mum's side of the family. Dad and I agreed that would be nice if he could curb that, but if it's in your genes what can you do?
After hobbling to the market to buy all the vegetables and eggs I'll now be eating, Martin came over. I asked him if he'd be interested in flatting with me. He has a guitar and a drum kit, as well as a record player and a selection of vinyl. He's had to leave most of that at his parents' place for lack of space at his current flat - I said he'd be welcome to keep it here. I offered him $190 a week and I'll see what happens. We talked about our relationships with our parents. He said he never got much affection from his mother and could never hug her now - it would just be "really awkward". Wow, that's sad.
It's day two of my new diet and I've already transgressed. A glass of wine at my cousin's place last night, a chocolate chip cookie tonight, milk in my tea and coffee at work when I just wasn't thinking. Bacon and eggs for breakfast is something I could easily get used to though. I posted a comment on whole9life.com, talking about the challenges of a strict exclusion diet when you're depressed, and my slight skepticism of the regime. I got a helpful reply, but then the topic vanished and I could no longer log in. I thought for a minute I'd been banned and IP-blocked for speaking out of turn, but no, there were problems with the site. In conjunction with the diet (or my feeble attempt at it), I'm still weaning off Efexor. On 1st October I dropped to 75 mg.
Tracy and Tom came over last Monday night to play board games. We played a rather good co-operative game where you had to recover the parts of a plane to fly out of a desert before you die of thirst or get buried by a sandstorm. It came right down to the last card - make or break - and unfortunately for us it was break. The game was good but the best part of the evening was the chat.
I've felt two earthquakes in the last week - at about 5:30am on Wednesday (an awkward time) and 7:30am yesterday.
I've yet to vote in the local elections, not because I don't care, but because I have no clue who to vote for. I only know of two of the candidates, and I don't think name recognition is a very good basis for casting a vote. Oh, and I'm fed up with those billboards that mention "reviving" Wellington. It isn't dying!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Could I live with other people again?
Martin came over yesterday. He'd just been working as an extra for the second Hobbit film - they needed tall people. He thinks he might be called upon to play an orc in the third film. We played squash, or tried to, and the rest of the time just talked. I'm a bit embarrassed of my flat when people come over - I have way too much space for one person, and you can't help but give away a lot of information about yourself when people see how you live. I'm toying with the idea of taking on Martin as a flatmate (he's not all that happy with his current arrangements). The money would be handy. But I haven't lived with other people for six years, and the idea of living with someone I sort of know is scary. I think I'd almost rather take my chances on someone I don't know from Adam.
Last night we had the autism group. It was a really good session, the best in a long time. Some of the quieter people are gaining in self-confidence and contributing more, which is excellent. After work tomorrow I'll be collecting for their annual appeal (due to some calendar stuff-up, this year's collection is in midweek, which is a shame).
I listened to an interesting programme on the radio yesterday. David Stuckler, author of The Body Economic was interviewed. According to him (and contrary to what you hear from politicians and in the media), recessions are health-neutral. In other words economic downturn doesn't make people sick, but how governments react to the situation just might do. In particular, he says, austerity (a word we've heard so much of in the last two years) is a killer.
Tommy Haas marches on at the French Open. He hardly broke sweat last night as he beat Mikhail Youzhny to reach the last eight.
I think we can safely say it's officially winter now. The weather took a violent turn early this afternoon as heavy rain combined with gale-force winds. The colder, wetter weather obviously means people wear a lot more clothes, and that makes life more interesting when you're wandering through (or sitting in) town. On my better days I almost go as far as caring about what I wear, and I should probably write about that some time.
I saw Julie tonight at her flat in Berhampore. Unlike some residents of the suburb (including those in one of the rest homes she stayed at) she wasn't evacuated in the early hours of the morning due to a landslide. Just as well; that might have been the last straw for her.
Last night we had the autism group. It was a really good session, the best in a long time. Some of the quieter people are gaining in self-confidence and contributing more, which is excellent. After work tomorrow I'll be collecting for their annual appeal (due to some calendar stuff-up, this year's collection is in midweek, which is a shame).
I listened to an interesting programme on the radio yesterday. David Stuckler, author of The Body Economic was interviewed. According to him (and contrary to what you hear from politicians and in the media), recessions are health-neutral. In other words economic downturn doesn't make people sick, but how governments react to the situation just might do. In particular, he says, austerity (a word we've heard so much of in the last two years) is a killer.
Tommy Haas marches on at the French Open. He hardly broke sweat last night as he beat Mikhail Youzhny to reach the last eight.
I think we can safely say it's officially winter now. The weather took a violent turn early this afternoon as heavy rain combined with gale-force winds. The colder, wetter weather obviously means people wear a lot more clothes, and that makes life more interesting when you're wandering through (or sitting in) town. On my better days I almost go as far as caring about what I wear, and I should probably write about that some time.
I saw Julie tonight at her flat in Berhampore. Unlike some residents of the suburb (including those in one of the rest homes she stayed at) she wasn't evacuated in the early hours of the morning due to a landslide. Just as well; that might have been the last straw for her.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Real people - not so scary after all
Yesterday I really didn't want to leave the flat. I'd already agreed to play tennis with Andy at 4pm though so I didn't have a lot of choice. I'm so glad I did venture outside - the tennis did both of us good I think, even if we were both sweating like pigs at the end. We might try and fix up another encounter for next weekend. I had a quick dip in the sea after the game and then drove to Remuera to celebrate Richard's birthday. Five of us turned up; this made for quite a relaxing evening. Richard made a pasta dish and the rest of us contributed something for dessert. The second half of yesterday confirmed what I already knew: when you're not feeling great, leaving the house and making contact with other living, breathing humans (even though you really don't want to) can often be the best thing.
On Saturday I attended the monthly autism social group. Due to the time of year only fifteen or so turned up, so for a change we were able to hear ourselves think. The social group is a wonderful way for people with autism to get to know one another, but when attendances are at their normal levels it can become an acoustic nightmare - difficult to contend with even if you don't have the condition. The smaller numbers made the afternoon virtually stress-free for me; as usual there were some interesting topics of conversation. I got a surprise phone call from a recruitment agency in the middle of the session - it seemed unusual to get one in the weekend, so for a few brief seconds I got excited, thinking they might have a job for me (did I use the word excited there?) - sadly it wasn't to be.
My two potential flatmates (Richard and a female member of the autism group) have ramped up their flat-finding efforts. Both of them are currently in less than ideal arrangements and would move into a new flat last Tuesday given the choice. I also want to make the move (I'm paying over the odds for this place and I've lived on my own for too long already) but for me the urgency isn't quite the same. I've lived on the Shore for nearly seven years and have got pretty used to it over that time, so for me it's a case of crossing the Harbour Bridge when I come to it. I spoke to Mum on Friday - she said I need to find a job before I even think about finding a flat, and (how often can I say this?) I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Not many agencies or landlords will take you on if you're not working and I'd rather not have to lie on their forms. Besides, having work gives you many more options.
This morning I went to a WINZ seminar. They're always fun (!) but this time something had changed. Normally the League of Gentlemen job centre sketch (click here for the hilarious and cringeworthy YouTube clip) isn't far from reality, but today you could tell that some of the people in attendance actually wanted work. Three years ago the Devonport-Takapuna-Milford area had an unemployment rate close to zero; that's far from the case now. The bloke running the workshop didn't stop talking; this became annoying but he did make one salient point: you can reply to as many ads and be on the books of as many agencies as you like but unless you know people it'll be tough. An inability to build relationships with people has been my downfall all along.
On Saturday I attended the monthly autism social group. Due to the time of year only fifteen or so turned up, so for a change we were able to hear ourselves think. The social group is a wonderful way for people with autism to get to know one another, but when attendances are at their normal levels it can become an acoustic nightmare - difficult to contend with even if you don't have the condition. The smaller numbers made the afternoon virtually stress-free for me; as usual there were some interesting topics of conversation. I got a surprise phone call from a recruitment agency in the middle of the session - it seemed unusual to get one in the weekend, so for a few brief seconds I got excited, thinking they might have a job for me (did I use the word excited there?) - sadly it wasn't to be.
My two potential flatmates (Richard and a female member of the autism group) have ramped up their flat-finding efforts. Both of them are currently in less than ideal arrangements and would move into a new flat last Tuesday given the choice. I also want to make the move (I'm paying over the odds for this place and I've lived on my own for too long already) but for me the urgency isn't quite the same. I've lived on the Shore for nearly seven years and have got pretty used to it over that time, so for me it's a case of crossing the Harbour Bridge when I come to it. I spoke to Mum on Friday - she said I need to find a job before I even think about finding a flat, and (how often can I say this?) I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Not many agencies or landlords will take you on if you're not working and I'd rather not have to lie on their forms. Besides, having work gives you many more options.
This morning I went to a WINZ seminar. They're always fun (!) but this time something had changed. Normally the League of Gentlemen job centre sketch (click here for the hilarious and cringeworthy YouTube clip) isn't far from reality, but today you could tell that some of the people in attendance actually wanted work. Three years ago the Devonport-Takapuna-Milford area had an unemployment rate close to zero; that's far from the case now. The bloke running the workshop didn't stop talking; this became annoying but he did make one salient point: you can reply to as many ads and be on the books of as many agencies as you like but unless you know people it'll be tough. An inability to build relationships with people has been my downfall all along.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Can't stop Christmas
Christmas. It's coming and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Apparently it's a whole year since it was last here, although I find that hard to believe. This year, however, I'm going to try very hard not to get stressed by Christmas and perhaps even enjoy it. I'll be heading down to Geraldine this time tomorrow (the first time I'll have been down there for almost a year). Christmas should be relatively quiet stress-free this year - on the day itself there will only be a handful of us.
While I'm in the South Island, Richard will be hosting a Christmas dinner here in Auckland for anyone from the Asperger's group who wishes to attend. I think that's a wonderful gesture - for many people, Christmas can be a very lonely time. If I was staying up here I would definitely have gone. Last Saturday the Asperger's group had its Christmas party. It was great to see such a big turnout - there must have been nearly forty people there - even if it got rather noisy and echoey (is that a real word?).
We've had shocking weather - about four days of non-stop rain. It's also been very humid, with overnight lows (!) of around 20 degrees. Drying clothes has proven nearly impossible so I've been forced to wear my emergency undies. If it's any consolation (and it is considerable consolation), I'd much rather have our weather than what the UK are going through. I don't envy all those poor Kiwis stuck at Heathrow trying to get home for Christmas.
Last week I had a look at Onehunga. I can see its attractions (it would be an inexpensive suburb for one) but I have reservations about living there: it's just a bit too far from everything and I'd be a bit worried about its crime rate. It looked a bit down-at-heel and reminded me of some parts of Birmingham (not that there's anything wrong with that - I liked living in Brum). It had a very good fruit and vege shop, an interesting second-hand bookshop and perhaps best of all the Dress Smart mall. I try and avoid malls if I can, but I do need to buy clothes occasionally, and for some reason you could buy the same clothes a lot more cheaply than elsewhere. So I'll certainly want to spend some more time in Onehunga but that doesn't mean I'll want to live there. I spoke to Richard and he pretty much agreed with me.
Last Monday I played interclub for the last time in 2010. I played with Superman in the doubles (again) and we lost (again), 6-3 6-4. I think we would both do better if we split up (well he certainly would; I'm so bad at the net that it might not matter who I play with). My singles was a different story - I knew my older opponent and thought I should beat him, but never expected to do so 6-1 6-1. I played well but he came to the net too often and I was able to pass him. He also got frustrated, and at times I felt I was the older player waiting for my 18-year-old opponent (he was actually fifty-something) to blast the ball out. We actually had a lot of good rallies though, and the score flattered me somewhat. Superman won his singles 6-2 6-2, reinforcing our need for a divorce from doubles.
My mental health service produces a quarterly newsletter. I'm part of the production team (apparently, although to be honest I'm not all that up with the play). I did however submit a cryptic crossword that I created; I'll be interested to see how that is received. I might even post the crossword on here in the next couple of days.
There will be no rest for me before I go away. My flat is still a complete mess, I've got all my packing to do and I'm taking my car in for a warrant this afternoon. Then tonight I'm seeing Gorillaz at the Vector Arena with Richard and two other people from the Asperger's group. I haven't seen too many live bands (unfortunately) and I've never seen a live virtual band before, but if it's got Damon Albarn in it, it must be good.
While I'm in the South Island, Richard will be hosting a Christmas dinner here in Auckland for anyone from the Asperger's group who wishes to attend. I think that's a wonderful gesture - for many people, Christmas can be a very lonely time. If I was staying up here I would definitely have gone. Last Saturday the Asperger's group had its Christmas party. It was great to see such a big turnout - there must have been nearly forty people there - even if it got rather noisy and echoey (is that a real word?).
We've had shocking weather - about four days of non-stop rain. It's also been very humid, with overnight lows (!) of around 20 degrees. Drying clothes has proven nearly impossible so I've been forced to wear my emergency undies. If it's any consolation (and it is considerable consolation), I'd much rather have our weather than what the UK are going through. I don't envy all those poor Kiwis stuck at Heathrow trying to get home for Christmas.
Last week I had a look at Onehunga. I can see its attractions (it would be an inexpensive suburb for one) but I have reservations about living there: it's just a bit too far from everything and I'd be a bit worried about its crime rate. It looked a bit down-at-heel and reminded me of some parts of Birmingham (not that there's anything wrong with that - I liked living in Brum). It had a very good fruit and vege shop, an interesting second-hand bookshop and perhaps best of all the Dress Smart mall. I try and avoid malls if I can, but I do need to buy clothes occasionally, and for some reason you could buy the same clothes a lot more cheaply than elsewhere. So I'll certainly want to spend some more time in Onehunga but that doesn't mean I'll want to live there. I spoke to Richard and he pretty much agreed with me.
Last Monday I played interclub for the last time in 2010. I played with Superman in the doubles (again) and we lost (again), 6-3 6-4. I think we would both do better if we split up (well he certainly would; I'm so bad at the net that it might not matter who I play with). My singles was a different story - I knew my older opponent and thought I should beat him, but never expected to do so 6-1 6-1. I played well but he came to the net too often and I was able to pass him. He also got frustrated, and at times I felt I was the older player waiting for my 18-year-old opponent (he was actually fifty-something) to blast the ball out. We actually had a lot of good rallies though, and the score flattered me somewhat. Superman won his singles 6-2 6-2, reinforcing our need for a divorce from doubles.
My mental health service produces a quarterly newsletter. I'm part of the production team (apparently, although to be honest I'm not all that up with the play). I did however submit a cryptic crossword that I created; I'll be interested to see how that is received. I might even post the crossword on here in the next couple of days.
There will be no rest for me before I go away. My flat is still a complete mess, I've got all my packing to do and I'm taking my car in for a warrant this afternoon. Then tonight I'm seeing Gorillaz at the Vector Arena with Richard and two other people from the Asperger's group. I haven't seen too many live bands (unfortunately) and I've never seen a live virtual band before, but if it's got Damon Albarn in it, it must be good.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Jobless again
I played tennis on Tuesday night in what they call a Business House competition. Because one of the earlier weeks was rained off, we played six mini-matches instead of four. By the end of the evening I'd reached the "sod it" stage. If I hadn't known in advance we'd be playing so many games (and many people didn't) I don't know how I would have coped. From memory I won the first match I played, drew the last, and lost all the rest. I've got interclub tonight and another Business House tennis-a-thon tomorrow night.
On the subject of sport, I scanned the football results on Wednesday and this one caught my eye: Leyton Orient 8 Droylsden 2 - after extra time! This was from an FA Cup second-round replay (they had drawn 1-1 in their first meeting at Droylsden). Orient were 2-0 down at one stage, and were still a goal behind when they scrambled an 89th-minute equaliser to keep them in the competition. Then came a crazy half-hour which must have produced some kind of record. The scorer of the equaliser struck twice more in extra time and there was another hat-trick scored entirely in extra time. Both sides finished the match with nine men and the Droylsden manager was also banished from the dug-out! So there is some magic left in the FA Cup after all. From what I could tell, the referee saw pity on Droylsden by blowing for full-time after 119 minutes - with all those stoppages for bookings and sendings-off (and of course goals) there should have been enough added time for Orient to hit double figures. Until last week I had no idea where Droylsden was (apparently it's in Manchester). Its football team (who play in the sixth division and are nicknamed the Bloods of all things) are no strangers to, well, strange Cup ties.
Friday was my last day at work. It was good while it lasted. I had a pretty much stress-free run of three months, which was considerably longer than I expected. I left my details with my boss should he ever need somebody again. I got on well with him, even though our personalities were quite different. I'll miss the F-bombs and his mispronunciations which at first I thought were deliberate. Apparently he drives a Missabitsi. He'd ask me about a claim for a property on Bethlehem Road. You mean Blenheim Road? At least you always knew where you stood with him. It was nice just to have a job that wasn't dressed up into this big frothy career, but now I face the unenviable task of finding work again.
On Friday night I went to a Christmas party put on by my mental health service. It was a bit of an eye-opener - some people I saw clearly weren't in a good way at all. Some of them must have a hard time looking after themselves - while I was in the queue for dessert there was a distinct whiff of pee. The food was reasonable but by the time I got there (almost seven - it started at four) the main course could have done with a quick zap in the microwave. I thought the highlight of the evening was the band, who did a very good job considering they had hardly practised. The organisation is fortunate to have a number of talented musicians in its midst. It was good to meet up with some people from the men's group who for one reason or another no longer attend.
I rang my gran when I got back from the party. I struggled to make any sense of her, although it was clear that she wasn't happy. At least she picked up the phone this time; she has her own phone in her room but hasn't been picking it up of late - either she's forgotten how to use it or just doesn't want to talk. In future I'll try and ring her in the morning (her evening) when she tends to be better.
On Saturday I met up in a café on K' Road with Richard and another regular of the Asperger's group (a female) to talk about the possibility of flatting. I think the arrangement could work very well. My only issue is having to leave the Shore where I've spent the best part of seven years. If the plan goes ahead, the most likely suburb we'll end up in at this stage is Onehunga, a place I don't know at all. I intend to spend some time there on Wednesday to get a feel for the place.
Yesterday the Asperger's group met up for our second picnic in Cornwall Park. Good weather for it - in fact a little too warm if anything. There was a big turnout - there must have been close on twenty. Some of them set up a game of cricket (one of the members of the group is a big fan of the game) and I joined in half-way through (after a bit of a doze - it was that kind of weather). My batting was OK but my bowling was pretty shocking! It was a good afternoon which Richard (who else?) organised. He's also holding a Christmas dinner - a great idea because a lot of them don't have families and must feel quite alone over the festive period.
Tennis tonight then. Hope I don't break anything this time.
On the subject of sport, I scanned the football results on Wednesday and this one caught my eye: Leyton Orient 8 Droylsden 2 - after extra time! This was from an FA Cup second-round replay (they had drawn 1-1 in their first meeting at Droylsden). Orient were 2-0 down at one stage, and were still a goal behind when they scrambled an 89th-minute equaliser to keep them in the competition. Then came a crazy half-hour which must have produced some kind of record. The scorer of the equaliser struck twice more in extra time and there was another hat-trick scored entirely in extra time. Both sides finished the match with nine men and the Droylsden manager was also banished from the dug-out! So there is some magic left in the FA Cup after all. From what I could tell, the referee saw pity on Droylsden by blowing for full-time after 119 minutes - with all those stoppages for bookings and sendings-off (and of course goals) there should have been enough added time for Orient to hit double figures. Until last week I had no idea where Droylsden was (apparently it's in Manchester). Its football team (who play in the sixth division and are nicknamed the Bloods of all things) are no strangers to, well, strange Cup ties.
Friday was my last day at work. It was good while it lasted. I had a pretty much stress-free run of three months, which was considerably longer than I expected. I left my details with my boss should he ever need somebody again. I got on well with him, even though our personalities were quite different. I'll miss the F-bombs and his mispronunciations which at first I thought were deliberate. Apparently he drives a Missabitsi. He'd ask me about a claim for a property on Bethlehem Road. You mean Blenheim Road? At least you always knew where you stood with him. It was nice just to have a job that wasn't dressed up into this big frothy career, but now I face the unenviable task of finding work again.
On Friday night I went to a Christmas party put on by my mental health service. It was a bit of an eye-opener - some people I saw clearly weren't in a good way at all. Some of them must have a hard time looking after themselves - while I was in the queue for dessert there was a distinct whiff of pee. The food was reasonable but by the time I got there (almost seven - it started at four) the main course could have done with a quick zap in the microwave. I thought the highlight of the evening was the band, who did a very good job considering they had hardly practised. The organisation is fortunate to have a number of talented musicians in its midst. It was good to meet up with some people from the men's group who for one reason or another no longer attend.
I rang my gran when I got back from the party. I struggled to make any sense of her, although it was clear that she wasn't happy. At least she picked up the phone this time; she has her own phone in her room but hasn't been picking it up of late - either she's forgotten how to use it or just doesn't want to talk. In future I'll try and ring her in the morning (her evening) when she tends to be better.
On Saturday I met up in a café on K' Road with Richard and another regular of the Asperger's group (a female) to talk about the possibility of flatting. I think the arrangement could work very well. My only issue is having to leave the Shore where I've spent the best part of seven years. If the plan goes ahead, the most likely suburb we'll end up in at this stage is Onehunga, a place I don't know at all. I intend to spend some time there on Wednesday to get a feel for the place.
Yesterday the Asperger's group met up for our second picnic in Cornwall Park. Good weather for it - in fact a little too warm if anything. There was a big turnout - there must have been close on twenty. Some of them set up a game of cricket (one of the members of the group is a big fan of the game) and I joined in half-way through (after a bit of a doze - it was that kind of weather). My batting was OK but my bowling was pretty shocking! It was a good afternoon which Richard (who else?) organised. He's also holding a Christmas dinner - a great idea because a lot of them don't have families and must feel quite alone over the festive period.
Tennis tonight then. Hope I don't break anything this time.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Figuring out my next move
I played tennis yesterday and will be playing again tonight. And tomorrow. I’m very much looking forward to Wednesday, my next tennis-free day. I don’t enjoy the game anything like I used to, and when I play at night I take ages to get to sleep and need gallons of coffee to get through the next day. Four or five years ago, tennis was the highlight of my week. Now I really only do it for the exercise.
Richard came over to Devonport on Saturday. We didn’t do all that much I suppose. The warm weather didn’t lend itself to vigorous activity, and we mainly just lay in the park and dozed. We also had an ice cream and talked about possible flatting arrangements. I’m still a bit apprehensive about sharing a four-person flat, especially when I’ve only briefly met two of my potential flatmates. Instinctively I feel it should work out fine, but we’ll only get a better idea of our compatibility (or otherwise) if we all meet up. Hopefully that can happen this weekend. It was good to see Richard, and there’s nothing wrong with just having a relaxing afternoon.
Work seems to be gradually drying up – at this stage my last day looks like being 10th December. Some months ago I registered with Edge, an employment agency for people who have had mental health issues. They had a long waiting list which I reached the top of a couple of weeks ago. Last Thursday I had a chat with one of the people from Edge – he came round to my flat – and we talked about what I should do once my current stint comes to an end. He was quite adamant that the mental health industry would be too stressful for me right now, and should therefore be avoided. However he pushed English teaching to the forefront of my mind once more, and came up with a new idea – working in medical statistics (clinical trials for new drugs, for instance). We also talked about my CV. For some reason, there is huge emphasis put on CVs these days. This chap gave a recent example of one of his clients who applied for what he called a “donkey job”. There were dozens of applicants for six places, and apparently CVs were the deciding factor in who was successful. I said it would have been better to have put everyone’s names in a hat and picked out six at random. Probably just as fair and less time-consuming for everyone involved. In fact, the Lotto method could also be used for some non-donkey jobs, and would in many cases be fairer (and would certainly be more easily understood) than the current selection criteria. At least people who are less connected (like me) wouldn’t be discriminated against. He also suggested I need to be socialising with different people three or four nights a week, but I’m less sure about that. It’s likely that would just make me more stressed. All in all though, our meeting was very useful.
I rang my grandmother yesterday. She has taken a definite step backwards in the last two weeks. She was confused, but worse than that, she sounded quite unhappy and for some reason she was itching to get off the phone. She might get moved to a different home, one that caters specifically for dementia patients. Somehow she had got wind of this possible move, although she didn’t know the reason for it. After some very positive phone conversations with my gran, this one was quite upsetting.
It is now seven years and one day since I arrived in New Zealand to live. I remember that day very clearly – it was a crystal clear Canterbury day; the brightness of the sun (far brighter than you ever get in the UK, even in the height of summer) was almost intoxicating.
Richard came over to Devonport on Saturday. We didn’t do all that much I suppose. The warm weather didn’t lend itself to vigorous activity, and we mainly just lay in the park and dozed. We also had an ice cream and talked about possible flatting arrangements. I’m still a bit apprehensive about sharing a four-person flat, especially when I’ve only briefly met two of my potential flatmates. Instinctively I feel it should work out fine, but we’ll only get a better idea of our compatibility (or otherwise) if we all meet up. Hopefully that can happen this weekend. It was good to see Richard, and there’s nothing wrong with just having a relaxing afternoon.
Work seems to be gradually drying up – at this stage my last day looks like being 10th December. Some months ago I registered with Edge, an employment agency for people who have had mental health issues. They had a long waiting list which I reached the top of a couple of weeks ago. Last Thursday I had a chat with one of the people from Edge – he came round to my flat – and we talked about what I should do once my current stint comes to an end. He was quite adamant that the mental health industry would be too stressful for me right now, and should therefore be avoided. However he pushed English teaching to the forefront of my mind once more, and came up with a new idea – working in medical statistics (clinical trials for new drugs, for instance). We also talked about my CV. For some reason, there is huge emphasis put on CVs these days. This chap gave a recent example of one of his clients who applied for what he called a “donkey job”. There were dozens of applicants for six places, and apparently CVs were the deciding factor in who was successful. I said it would have been better to have put everyone’s names in a hat and picked out six at random. Probably just as fair and less time-consuming for everyone involved. In fact, the Lotto method could also be used for some non-donkey jobs, and would in many cases be fairer (and would certainly be more easily understood) than the current selection criteria. At least people who are less connected (like me) wouldn’t be discriminated against. He also suggested I need to be socialising with different people three or four nights a week, but I’m less sure about that. It’s likely that would just make me more stressed. All in all though, our meeting was very useful.
I rang my grandmother yesterday. She has taken a definite step backwards in the last two weeks. She was confused, but worse than that, she sounded quite unhappy and for some reason she was itching to get off the phone. She might get moved to a different home, one that caters specifically for dementia patients. Somehow she had got wind of this possible move, although she didn’t know the reason for it. After some very positive phone conversations with my gran, this one was quite upsetting.
It is now seven years and one day since I arrived in New Zealand to live. I remember that day very clearly – it was a crystal clear Canterbury day; the brightness of the sun (far brighter than you ever get in the UK, even in the height of summer) was almost intoxicating.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Badverts
There seems to be little point in blogging at the moment - there is hardly anything happening in my life that is worth blogging about.
There's plenty happening in other people's lives however. The mining disaster on the West Coast has taken up a lot of air time in the last few days, and rightly so. Things aren't looking good there to say the least. Yesterday's developments were described as "two steps forward and three back", but even that seemed to be putting a positive spin on things. It's a very close-knit community down there; I just hope we can find out something in the next 24 hours. It must be hell for the friends and families of those who are trapped. As for what the miners themselves have been through, that doesn't bear thinking about.
On Saturday I attended the monthly autism group which was interesting as always. The topic of discussion this time was adverts; people had to vote on their best and worst. I like to think I'm immune to advertising. Although it probably influences me more than I imagine, I'm pretty sure I'm less susceptible than most. I can see that a lot of ads (car ads being a prime example) are trying to press some kind of emotional buttons, but they're wasted on me I'm afraid. I'm particularly unimpressed with ads for banks, who are all trying to out-Kiwify each other, even if most of them are Australian-owned. ASB (owned by the Commonwealth Bank of Australia) have ditched Goldstein and jumped on the Kiwi bandwagon. TSB (who really are a Kiwi bank) used to run an amusing series of ads, one of which featured someone let loose on a solo plane flight with no training; they've since gone down the "real Kiwis only" route too. On a similar theme is Resene's "Colours of New Zealand" paint advert which, if I'd thought about it, would have got my vote on Saturday for the worst ad. Lake Wakatipu blue, it's so much bluer than bog-standard blue. How can you get away with such crap?
Worst of all must be ads that use sportsmen and other "great" New Zealanders to endorse medical and financial products. These ads aren't just crap, they're downright dangerous. Being a great rugby player or cricketer or golfer doesn't give you the authority to promote products that, should they go wrong, can wreck people's lives. One example was Colin Meads' endorsement of Provincial Finance. "South Island based. Solid as, I reckon," he said. Yes, solid as a house of cards during the South Island earthquake. Provincial was one of the first of New Zealand's many finance companies to go under.
This weekend I hope to meet up with Richard and two female members of the autism group to talk about flatting. I'm a bit unsure about sharing a four-person flat. It might be fine but I'll need to give it some thought. There will be plenty to discuss at the weekend.
Update:
An hour after I posted this, it was confirmed that there had been a second explosion (much bigger than the first), ending all hope of finding any of the 29 miners alive. Devastating news. I found yesterday's extended news bulletin quite moving.
There's plenty happening in other people's lives however. The mining disaster on the West Coast has taken up a lot of air time in the last few days, and rightly so. Things aren't looking good there to say the least. Yesterday's developments were described as "two steps forward and three back", but even that seemed to be putting a positive spin on things. It's a very close-knit community down there; I just hope we can find out something in the next 24 hours. It must be hell for the friends and families of those who are trapped. As for what the miners themselves have been through, that doesn't bear thinking about.
On Saturday I attended the monthly autism group which was interesting as always. The topic of discussion this time was adverts; people had to vote on their best and worst. I like to think I'm immune to advertising. Although it probably influences me more than I imagine, I'm pretty sure I'm less susceptible than most. I can see that a lot of ads (car ads being a prime example) are trying to press some kind of emotional buttons, but they're wasted on me I'm afraid. I'm particularly unimpressed with ads for banks, who are all trying to out-Kiwify each other, even if most of them are Australian-owned. ASB (owned by the Commonwealth Bank of Australia) have ditched Goldstein and jumped on the Kiwi bandwagon. TSB (who really are a Kiwi bank) used to run an amusing series of ads, one of which featured someone let loose on a solo plane flight with no training; they've since gone down the "real Kiwis only" route too. On a similar theme is Resene's "Colours of New Zealand" paint advert which, if I'd thought about it, would have got my vote on Saturday for the worst ad. Lake Wakatipu blue, it's so much bluer than bog-standard blue. How can you get away with such crap?
Worst of all must be ads that use sportsmen and other "great" New Zealanders to endorse medical and financial products. These ads aren't just crap, they're downright dangerous. Being a great rugby player or cricketer or golfer doesn't give you the authority to promote products that, should they go wrong, can wreck people's lives. One example was Colin Meads' endorsement of Provincial Finance. "South Island based. Solid as, I reckon," he said. Yes, solid as a house of cards during the South Island earthquake. Provincial was one of the first of New Zealand's many finance companies to go under.
This weekend I hope to meet up with Richard and two female members of the autism group to talk about flatting. I'm a bit unsure about sharing a four-person flat. It might be fine but I'll need to give it some thought. There will be plenty to discuss at the weekend.
Update:
An hour after I posted this, it was confirmed that there had been a second explosion (much bigger than the first), ending all hope of finding any of the 29 miners alive. Devastating news. I found yesterday's extended news bulletin quite moving.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Smash!
It hasn't been a bad week. Last Monday I played interclub tennis. I partnered Superman in the doubles - my volleys were even worse than normal but we just scraped home 4-6 6-4 10-5. That 10-5 score is a super tie-break which comes into play in doubles matches at night. I'm not a fan of it. It makes no sense at all to me that the third (most important) set should be vastly shorter than the first two (less important) ones. I totally understand the need for a reasonable finishing time but the super tie-break seems a rather artificial way of achieving that. I'd prefer just one long set up to nine or ten.
In the singles I faced someone twice my age. It was a real battle - we had a lot of long rallies and games going several deuces - and I came through 6-4 7-5 after 1¾ hours. My opponent was remarkably fit (I tried to imagine how my dad would have coped), but he did tire a bit towards the end as I came from 5-3 down in the second set. Superman was on the sidelines, talking on his phone, not really helping my cause. In the last game I led 40-15 but he came up with two screamers to save the match points. On my third match point I hit what I thought was a decisive lob but he ran back to retrieve it, and in desperation hit a moonball maybe forty feet into the air. Surely it won't clear the net. Oh no. It is coming over. I'm deciding what to do with the ball when Superman shouts Smash! and I smash it straight into the net. I do eventually serve out the match, taking my fifth opportunity. As a team we scored a clean sweep of wins; I was on court the longest.
After the tennis not a lot happened until the weekend. I was happy with that. I did some maths tuition on Thursday night but that was about it. Saturday was an interesting day though. I'm now looking at sharing a flat with Richard and John, another bloke from the Asperger's group. We had a look at a flat in Mt Eden. It was an older house, I'm guessing you might call it a villa, and it would have been very comfortable I'm sure. However it was just out of our price range. The three of us went for a coffee afterwards; we discussed all the things we wanted (or not) out of flatting - this was a useful exercise. I'm hopeful we can find something that suits us all.
Last night I saw an Italian film - Io Sono L'Amore - with Julie at the Bridgeway. Julie's got a bad arm, and when (as usual) she wouldn't stop talking all through the film, I nudged her other arm harder than I meant to, giving her (temporarily) two bad arms. And then my bloody phone went off. I didn't even think I had it on me, and it took me some time scrabbling around in my bag to turn it off. How embarrassing. Regarding the film itself, I wasn't sure what to make of it. A lot of arty camera effects and very dark (I mean literally - sometimes you could hardly make out anything) in places.
I'm currently reading Oliver James' Affluenza. So far it's an excellent read; I'll write about it in a later post I promise.
I should mention that I voted for Len Brown in the Auckland mayoral election, so was obviously happy with the outcome.
In the singles I faced someone twice my age. It was a real battle - we had a lot of long rallies and games going several deuces - and I came through 6-4 7-5 after 1¾ hours. My opponent was remarkably fit (I tried to imagine how my dad would have coped), but he did tire a bit towards the end as I came from 5-3 down in the second set. Superman was on the sidelines, talking on his phone, not really helping my cause. In the last game I led 40-15 but he came up with two screamers to save the match points. On my third match point I hit what I thought was a decisive lob but he ran back to retrieve it, and in desperation hit a moonball maybe forty feet into the air. Surely it won't clear the net. Oh no. It is coming over. I'm deciding what to do with the ball when Superman shouts Smash! and I smash it straight into the net. I do eventually serve out the match, taking my fifth opportunity. As a team we scored a clean sweep of wins; I was on court the longest.
After the tennis not a lot happened until the weekend. I was happy with that. I did some maths tuition on Thursday night but that was about it. Saturday was an interesting day though. I'm now looking at sharing a flat with Richard and John, another bloke from the Asperger's group. We had a look at a flat in Mt Eden. It was an older house, I'm guessing you might call it a villa, and it would have been very comfortable I'm sure. However it was just out of our price range. The three of us went for a coffee afterwards; we discussed all the things we wanted (or not) out of flatting - this was a useful exercise. I'm hopeful we can find something that suits us all.
Last night I saw an Italian film - Io Sono L'Amore - with Julie at the Bridgeway. Julie's got a bad arm, and when (as usual) she wouldn't stop talking all through the film, I nudged her other arm harder than I meant to, giving her (temporarily) two bad arms. And then my bloody phone went off. I didn't even think I had it on me, and it took me some time scrabbling around in my bag to turn it off. How embarrassing. Regarding the film itself, I wasn't sure what to make of it. A lot of arty camera effects and very dark (I mean literally - sometimes you could hardly make out anything) in places.
I'm currently reading Oliver James' Affluenza. So far it's an excellent read; I'll write about it in a later post I promise.
I should mention that I voted for Len Brown in the Auckland mayoral election, so was obviously happy with the outcome.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Work is good
This temporary job has given my self-esteem a much-needed boost. And the best thing is, it's just a job; I don't have to get involved in, or even be aware of, any internal politics. I just have to follow the three golden rules of temp jobs that a recruitment agent told me a few years ago in the UK. Rule number one: you turn up. Rule number two: you do your job. Rule number three: you go home. As it happens I've been more productive on average than I was in my previous job which masqueraded as something really important but was anything but.
On Saturday I went round to Richard's place. It was good to catch up and just have a chat. We talked about flatting and a possible third member of the Asperger's group who might join us. The three of us will hopefully meet up this coming weekend.
I went to tennis at the club yesterday. I totally forgot it was their opening day so I didn't bring a plate, let alone a plate with food on it. They managed to get John Banks in to do the official opening. "I'm an honorary member of 340 clubs throughout New Zealand," he said, "and this is my favourite." And I'm sure you've told the other 339 the same thing! I won't be voting for him and the upcoming mayoral elections for the Super City. My level of tennis was surprisingly OK.
I'm so glad I pulled out of Lifeline. I needed some balance in my life and that was the only reasonable way - for now - I could achieve it.
My grandmother has now gone into a home in Cottenham near Cambridge. Getting her there wasn't easy; she wasn't a happy bunny to put it mildly. I'm going to write her a letter, perhaps even during a dull moment at work.
On Saturday I went round to Richard's place. It was good to catch up and just have a chat. We talked about flatting and a possible third member of the Asperger's group who might join us. The three of us will hopefully meet up this coming weekend.
I went to tennis at the club yesterday. I totally forgot it was their opening day so I didn't bring a plate, let alone a plate with food on it. They managed to get John Banks in to do the official opening. "I'm an honorary member of 340 clubs throughout New Zealand," he said, "and this is my favourite." And I'm sure you've told the other 339 the same thing! I won't be voting for him and the upcoming mayoral elections for the Super City. My level of tennis was surprisingly OK.
I'm so glad I pulled out of Lifeline. I needed some balance in my life and that was the only reasonable way - for now - I could achieve it.
My grandmother has now gone into a home in Cottenham near Cambridge. Getting her there wasn't easy; she wasn't a happy bunny to put it mildly. I'm going to write her a letter, perhaps even during a dull moment at work.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Time to move on
I don't normally write my blog at four in the morning but the people upstairs are having a rather noisy party and sleep is out of the question. This is a bugger for me because I've got my Lifeline training all weekend so I have to, you know, do stuff. Some new people moved in while I was on holiday, and it's like this pretty much every weekend and sometimes during the week too.
I need to move out of this flat. Richard and I have talked about sharing a flat; this week he sounded pretty keen. It might help matters if we can find work. Right now I'm closer to getting a steady job than I've been all year, which still isn't that close but hey. My interview on Thursday went well I thought. I was a lot more on the ball than the first time (it helps not being depressed). I prepared well and put a lot more thought into the answers I gave. I faced a panel of three; the bloke who I guess was the main interviewer had an eyebrow ring and two earrings; I found this strangely reassuring. There's a chance they'll want me back a third time, and that could well be my undoing. They might test me out on various computer systems such as SQL which I mentioned on my CV. I know practically nothing about SQL. I can barely spell it. Of course there's also a chance that they won't want to see me again.
The good news is that I'm feeling a lot better than I did a week ago, and if it wasn't for those inconsiderate bastards upstairs I'd be feeling better still.
I need to move out of this flat. Richard and I have talked about sharing a flat; this week he sounded pretty keen. It might help matters if we can find work. Right now I'm closer to getting a steady job than I've been all year, which still isn't that close but hey. My interview on Thursday went well I thought. I was a lot more on the ball than the first time (it helps not being depressed). I prepared well and put a lot more thought into the answers I gave. I faced a panel of three; the bloke who I guess was the main interviewer had an eyebrow ring and two earrings; I found this strangely reassuring. There's a chance they'll want me back a third time, and that could well be my undoing. They might test me out on various computer systems such as SQL which I mentioned on my CV. I know practically nothing about SQL. I can barely spell it. Of course there's also a chance that they won't want to see me again.
The good news is that I'm feeling a lot better than I did a week ago, and if it wasn't for those inconsiderate bastards upstairs I'd be feeling better still.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Side Efexor
To counteract those side effects I'm taking on board a lot of water and caffeine. This means regular trips to the loo, so at work I get to talk to Pam the cleaning lady more than perhaps I'd like. There's one more side effect I neglected to mention yesterday: I can't keep my feet still.
That eco-friendly price-neutral bonus letter arrived today. My bonus was well down on last year, but if it wasn't for some wangling on the part of my boss, I'd have received nothing at all. I was very happy with that outcome; thankfully my mitigating factors were taken into account.
I had a look at another flat tonight; this one was basically a non-starter. The more I think about it, the more I realise last night's flat could have been a good move for me. If only the room had been 50% bigger.
I still dabble with iPredict. So far I'm up around $400 though things can change rather quickly. I did particularly well betting, sorry predicting, that Gordon Brown wouldn't resign before the next election. Of course he might still do so, but iPredict allows you to lock in profits (or cut your losses, something I've done numerous times) before the closing date of the stock. By the way, this is what BK Drinkwater, one of the more eminent figures on iPredict, has to say about New Zealand's obsession with property investment. I might have gone a bit easier on the expletives myself, but I totally agree with him.
I'll be meeting up with Andy again tomorrow. Oh, and I've just started reading The Great Gatsby.
That eco-friendly price-neutral bonus letter arrived today. My bonus was well down on last year, but if it wasn't for some wangling on the part of my boss, I'd have received nothing at all. I was very happy with that outcome; thankfully my mitigating factors were taken into account.
I had a look at another flat tonight; this one was basically a non-starter. The more I think about it, the more I realise last night's flat could have been a good move for me. If only the room had been 50% bigger.
I still dabble with iPredict. So far I'm up around $400 though things can change rather quickly. I did particularly well betting, sorry predicting, that Gordon Brown wouldn't resign before the next election. Of course he might still do so, but iPredict allows you to lock in profits (or cut your losses, something I've done numerous times) before the closing date of the stock. By the way, this is what BK Drinkwater, one of the more eminent figures on iPredict, has to say about New Zealand's obsession with property investment. I might have gone a bit easier on the expletives myself, but I totally agree with him.
I'll be meeting up with Andy again tomorrow. Oh, and I've just started reading The Great Gatsby.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Forgettory
That mini-boost of Efexor is now starting to kick in. My depression has abated somewhat, but at a price. I get very tired even when I've been sitting on my bum all day, my short-term memory is now a forgettory, and I'm constantly thirsty. A quick Google search suggests that these side effects aren't unusual, and they're a price I'm willing to pay for the time being.
All I remember of Friday is the presentation my colleague gave at a meeting. His talk impressed me because he's only been at the company a matter of months, and he used some sophisticated modelling techniques to arrive at his conclusions. In other words there's no way I could have done any of that stuff.
On Saturday I worked on my puzzles and then played pétanque with Phil from the French club. The bowling club down my street has a pétanque piste attached. I'm sure we were supposed to pay, but being the middle of winter and sluicing down with rain, nobody else was there. The game was a lot of fun even though I ended up soaked to the skin. I came from 10-3 and 12-8 down only to be edged out 13-12. I'm sure we'll have many more battles over the coming months.
I'm struggling to remember what happened at work yesterday, but I don't think any of it was particularly good. After work though I had Italian which was much better. An elderly couple who were about to spend a week in Italy had brought two bottles of wine along for us all to share. The Italian wasn't easy, but it isn't supposed to be, and the wine pretty much made my evening.
Today at work was a complete dead loss. The highlight was an email telling us we'd soon be getting our bonus letters. Actually the highlight wasn't that part of the email - of course I'm thrilled to be getting a bonus of zero dollars - but the next bit. These bonus notifications will have a new, more colourful letterhead which is more closely aligned with our company's brand image, but will also be printed on thinner paper to offset the cost of all that extra ink and make the whole process cost neutral. I'm so relieved it's cost neutral. We were told to give feedback about the new letterhead. I was about to reply that I really couldn't give a rat's arse, then thought better of it.
I couldn't focus on anything for more than ten seconds all day. My soon-to-be-boss spent half an hour explaining a new one-off task to me, and explained it pretty well I thought, but everything simply washed over me. By the way the tsunami alert was a false alarm; I'll be getting a new boss, my fourth since I've been there.
Tonight I had a look at a possible new flat. It had a lot going for it but I'll be saying no unfortunately, because the room isn't really big enough.
I'll be taking next week off to stay with Mum and Dad down south, and hopefully get over to the West Coast, where I haven't been since 1993. I'm very much looking forward to that.
All I remember of Friday is the presentation my colleague gave at a meeting. His talk impressed me because he's only been at the company a matter of months, and he used some sophisticated modelling techniques to arrive at his conclusions. In other words there's no way I could have done any of that stuff.
On Saturday I worked on my puzzles and then played pétanque with Phil from the French club. The bowling club down my street has a pétanque piste attached. I'm sure we were supposed to pay, but being the middle of winter and sluicing down with rain, nobody else was there. The game was a lot of fun even though I ended up soaked to the skin. I came from 10-3 and 12-8 down only to be edged out 13-12. I'm sure we'll have many more battles over the coming months.
I'm struggling to remember what happened at work yesterday, but I don't think any of it was particularly good. After work though I had Italian which was much better. An elderly couple who were about to spend a week in Italy had brought two bottles of wine along for us all to share. The Italian wasn't easy, but it isn't supposed to be, and the wine pretty much made my evening.
Today at work was a complete dead loss. The highlight was an email telling us we'd soon be getting our bonus letters. Actually the highlight wasn't that part of the email - of course I'm thrilled to be getting a bonus of zero dollars - but the next bit. These bonus notifications will have a new, more colourful letterhead which is more closely aligned with our company's brand image, but will also be printed on thinner paper to offset the cost of all that extra ink and make the whole process cost neutral. I'm so relieved it's cost neutral. We were told to give feedback about the new letterhead. I was about to reply that I really couldn't give a rat's arse, then thought better of it.
I couldn't focus on anything for more than ten seconds all day. My soon-to-be-boss spent half an hour explaining a new one-off task to me, and explained it pretty well I thought, but everything simply washed over me. By the way the tsunami alert was a false alarm; I'll be getting a new boss, my fourth since I've been there.
Tonight I had a look at a possible new flat. It had a lot going for it but I'll be saying no unfortunately, because the room isn't really big enough.
I'll be taking next week off to stay with Mum and Dad down south, and hopefully get over to the West Coast, where I haven't been since 1993. I'm very much looking forward to that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
