I've been really tired all week. Getting out of bed has been a struggle. On Tuesday when the news came on the radio (that's supposed to be some sort of cue for me to get up) I just rolled over and next thing I knew, the red digits showed eight zero zero.
I'm not planning on doing anything strenuous in Auckland. I met the six-foot-five guy, for the first time in a few weeks, at last night's depression group. It wasn't much of a group - just him and me. He suggested that I play in the $2/$3 no-limit hold 'em game at Skycity (he sometimes flies to Auckland specially for that). I might take a look at it (apparently you can watch) but I'd want to have a much better idea of how it operates (mostly around the rake) before jumping in. Besides, live poker is probably more stressful than anything I'll want to do up there.
I'm looking forward to Saturday's autism group a lot. It'll be good to catch up with Richard and the gang.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
Engagement
My brother has got engaged. I saw it coming but didn't expect it quite this soon. He and his fiancée will be coming to live in NZ (in Christchurch I think) in late September; they're bringing their cat with them. My future sister-in-law's line of work involves providing equipment to hospitals (I don't know the ins and outs of that, so to speak); she's got herself a similar job over here. So I'll soon be seeing my brother rather more than twice every nine years.
On a loosely related note, there was a new face - a 23-year-old woman - at Wednesday night's depression group. Every time someone new turns up I hear the same thing. They talk about their anxiety, depression and difficulty in dealing with social situations. Then in the next sentence they mention their wife/husband/fiancé(e)/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner. If meeting people is so damn hard, how come they're all in relationships? I've got three theories:
1. For some (most?) people, they need sex almost as much as they need food. No matter how severe the barriers are to finding a sexual partner, they'll overcome them somehow.
2. The mental health of the people who attend the meet-up groups isn't that bad, otherwise they wouldn't go.
3. Compared to how they were one or two or five years ago when they were the life and soul of the party, they've seen a marked increase in their social anxiety. They've noticed a decline relative to their reference point, but they're still not all that bad.
Last weekend was very much an indoor one. I went round to my cousin's place on Saturday (I did invite them to come to my flat but they declined). They've now got Sky (in time for the Olympics) and we ended up watching the Crusaders play the Force. I couldn't have cared less about the outcome (which, after a couple of dodgy video referee decisions, was never in doubt).
I should mention Andy Murray's defeat in the final of Wimbledon. He gets very emotional after a big match, win or lose. Unfortunately, in his four grand slam finals to date, it's only been lose. I've heard plenty of people say he'll never win one. I think he's more than capable of winning a couple. I'd put him in a different league to Tim Henman (Britain's last big hope); he's just that much more versatile. Henman used to need five sets in the first round, then four sets, then five again. By the second Monday, Britain was a nation of fingernail-free tennis fans. That he so often survived to make the later stages says a lot for Henman's resolve, but Murray in contrast gets through the early rounds with ease.
My car failed last week's warrant in style. Supposedly both front shock absorbers need replacing as does the driver's seat belt; also a patch of rust on the roof needs looking at. I was handed a four-figure quote - I certainly won't be paying that. I'll try taking it in somewhere else (VTNZ?) next week but until then (and quite possibly after then) I'm sans wheels. Bugger.
So I won't be popping over to see Julie tomorrow - I normally see her every Tuesday. A lot (but my no means all) of her conversation is pretty negative; sometimes she talks about doing herself in. I try to cling onto the positives but I'm no counsellor so I feel hopeless at times.
I'm flying to Auckland on Friday night. I must say I'm really looking forward to it.
I'm flying to Auckland on Friday night.
On a loosely related note, there was a new face - a 23-year-old woman - at Wednesday night's depression group. Every time someone new turns up I hear the same thing. They talk about their anxiety, depression and difficulty in dealing with social situations. Then in the next sentence they mention their wife/husband/fiancé(e)/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner. If meeting people is so damn hard, how come they're all in relationships? I've got three theories:
1. For some (most?) people, they need sex almost as much as they need food. No matter how severe the barriers are to finding a sexual partner, they'll overcome them somehow.
2. The mental health of the people who attend the meet-up groups isn't that bad, otherwise they wouldn't go.
3. Compared to how they were one or two or five years ago when they were the life and soul of the party, they've seen a marked increase in their social anxiety. They've noticed a decline relative to their reference point, but they're still not all that bad.
Last weekend was very much an indoor one. I went round to my cousin's place on Saturday (I did invite them to come to my flat but they declined). They've now got Sky (in time for the Olympics) and we ended up watching the Crusaders play the Force. I couldn't have cared less about the outcome (which, after a couple of dodgy video referee decisions, was never in doubt).
I should mention Andy Murray's defeat in the final of Wimbledon. He gets very emotional after a big match, win or lose. Unfortunately, in his four grand slam finals to date, it's only been lose. I've heard plenty of people say he'll never win one. I think he's more than capable of winning a couple. I'd put him in a different league to Tim Henman (Britain's last big hope); he's just that much more versatile. Henman used to need five sets in the first round, then four sets, then five again. By the second Monday, Britain was a nation of fingernail-free tennis fans. That he so often survived to make the later stages says a lot for Henman's resolve, but Murray in contrast gets through the early rounds with ease.
My car failed last week's warrant in style. Supposedly both front shock absorbers need replacing as does the driver's seat belt; also a patch of rust on the roof needs looking at. I was handed a four-figure quote - I certainly won't be paying that. I'll try taking it in somewhere else (VTNZ?) next week but until then (and quite possibly after then) I'm sans wheels. Bugger.
So I won't be popping over to see Julie tomorrow - I normally see her every Tuesday. A lot (but my no means all) of her conversation is pretty negative; sometimes she talks about doing herself in. I try to cling onto the positives but I'm no counsellor so I feel hopeless at times.
I'm flying to Auckland on Friday night. I must say I'm really looking forward to it.
I'm flying to Auckland on Friday night.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Thagomizer
Planet Dinosaur is on telly. The commentator used the word thagomizer - which is a word for a spiky weapon that some dinosaurs had - and after hearing it a few times I thought, hey, that's not a real word! I Googled it and turns out it is a made-up word.
After staying up to watch Wimbledon two nights in a row, while still recovering from a cold, I feel like I've been thagomized. On Friday I watched Federer's upset four-set win over Djokovic who wasn't at his best. Still Djokovic looked the likely winner until the end of the third set; the last point of that set was absolutely huge for Federer, and boy did he have to work hard for it. I sensibly went to bed at half-two before Murray's win over Tsonga, but watching last night's women's final was the real killer for me. The good news I suppose is that I've rekindled my interest in a sport that was once passionate about. I'd like to watch Murray's bid to become the first Brit (OK, he's Scottish first, British second) to win a grand slam for over seventy years, but I don't think I will.
There's now a programme on telly about smart phone addiction. I just don't understand this need to be connected all the time. I really don't.
After staying up to watch Wimbledon two nights in a row, while still recovering from a cold, I feel like I've been thagomized. On Friday I watched Federer's upset four-set win over Djokovic who wasn't at his best. Still Djokovic looked the likely winner until the end of the third set; the last point of that set was absolutely huge for Federer, and boy did he have to work hard for it. I sensibly went to bed at half-two before Murray's win over Tsonga, but watching last night's women's final was the real killer for me. The good news I suppose is that I've rekindled my interest in a sport that was once passionate about. I'd like to watch Murray's bid to become the first Brit (OK, he's Scottish first, British second) to win a grand slam for over seventy years, but I don't think I will.
There's now a programme on telly about smart phone addiction. I just don't understand this need to be connected all the time. I really don't.
Friday, July 6, 2012
In recovery mode
I haven’t been well the last week, physically rather than mentally, although they are intertwined to some extent. I’ve had a cold – runny nose, chesty cough, sore throat and very little energy. I probably caught it at work. I’ve always been quick to pick bugs up and slow to shake them off. It's worth noting that during my job-free spell (most of 2010) I was also entirely bug-free.
Last Saturday I joined five other members of the depression group to see Rock of Ages at the movies. For something with so much potential I found the movie a disappointment, and frankly I wasn’t in the mood anyway.
I took Monday off but worked the rest of the week even though I didn’t get much better (if at all). Today I really had to drag myself out of bed. Work itself, on the four days I turned up, wasn’t too bad. It’s been a pretty uneventful week apart from the excitement of Tuesday night’s tremor.
The big news has come from the other side of the world. My brother’s girlfriend has landed a job in Christchurch
This weekend I’m planning to see Phil who has come down from Auckland Wimbledon . The men’s semis are tonight, with Federer taking on Djokovic and Murray playing Tsonga. I think the Murray–Tsonga encounter is almost a 50-50 match-up but as much as I’d like to see Murray
Predictions:
Djokovic to beat Federer 3-1
Serena Williams to beat Radwanska 2-0
Djokovic to beat Murray
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Seven!
Half an hour ago, as I was perusing the earthquake-related bumph in the LIM and visualising a big yellow sticker being slapped on our apartment building, we had pretty significant jolt here. It was a magnitude 7.0 (yes - I was way off the mark with my guess of 5.5) but 230 km deep, centred over South Taranaki. So it was felt over a wide area. It was a slow rumbling shake that seemed to go on for half a minute but was probably ten seconds at the most.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
I could do with a dose of Dunning-Kruger
After a pretty dire first half of the week I'm better again now. Last night only three of us attended the depression meet-up - two new faces and myself. One of the guys looked 25, wore a wedding ring and a thick black Krapmandu jacket, and promptly announced in his Aussie accent that he worked for Telecom. So I clearly had nothing in common with him at all. Except we got chatting and he turned out to be 34 and have rather similar experiences with depression and social anxiety as me. The other bloke was in his early fifties and his battle with depression wasn't too dissimilar to mine either.
I've almost finished Bad Science. It's all fascinating stuff, and it's presented in an entertaining and accessible way for people like me who aren't medical graduates. I find the Dunning-Kruger effect intriguing and very believable: basically it means incompetent people overestimate their abilities because they're too incompetent to recognise their incompetence! Competent people, according to Dunning and Kruger, tend to assess their level of proficiency more accurately. I think the reason why competent people estimate their level of competence more accurately is very simple: by and large people have quite high levels of self-confidence (I never cease to be amazed by just how self-confident some people appear to be). Most people tend to rate themselves as being above average at any given task (80% of people think they're above-average drivers) so those who actually are above average are justified in their assessment. I also reckon an element of "the more you know, the more you know you don't know" plays a part.
By the way, I'm one of the few who don't think their driving skill is above average. There a only a few things that I think I'm any good at, and those tend not to matter very much.
Work is going OK. I rate my level of competence in my job as average at best. I still despair at some of the letters we send out to our customers especially when we ask about medical conditions. Many of the letters are poorly written and show a distinct lack of sensitivity. However it's 2012 so nobody cares how you write as long as you get the message across, and in a large company it's best just to follow the process and not to ask questions.
I've almost finished Bad Science. It's all fascinating stuff, and it's presented in an entertaining and accessible way for people like me who aren't medical graduates. I find the Dunning-Kruger effect intriguing and very believable: basically it means incompetent people overestimate their abilities because they're too incompetent to recognise their incompetence! Competent people, according to Dunning and Kruger, tend to assess their level of proficiency more accurately. I think the reason why competent people estimate their level of competence more accurately is very simple: by and large people have quite high levels of self-confidence (I never cease to be amazed by just how self-confident some people appear to be). Most people tend to rate themselves as being above average at any given task (80% of people think they're above-average drivers) so those who actually are above average are justified in their assessment. I also reckon an element of "the more you know, the more you know you don't know" plays a part.
By the way, I'm one of the few who don't think their driving skill is above average. There a only a few things that I think I'm any good at, and those tend not to matter very much.
Work is going OK. I rate my level of competence in my job as average at best. I still despair at some of the letters we send out to our customers especially when we ask about medical conditions. Many of the letters are poorly written and show a distinct lack of sensitivity. However it's 2012 so nobody cares how you write as long as you get the message across, and in a large company it's best just to follow the process and not to ask questions.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Under attack
Last night I attended the autism group and felt a little uncomfortable there. I missed the bus home and didn't fancy waiting for the next one so I walked - surprisingly it only took me half an hour. But then when I got back I had a panic attack. I'm talking a proper out-of-body what-the-****'s-going-on experience here, the likes of which I haven't had in years. Luckily it didn't last too long.
This week has so far been a struggle. Everything just feels grey and black and hopeless. We've all moved desks in the office. My new position - right next to my boss - has upped the ante a bit. I'll try and get an initial assessment for CBT tomorrow - if I can remember.
This latest depressive spell is probably just a random occurrence but last week's letter from the council generated shock waves that I could have done without.
This week has so far been a struggle. Everything just feels grey and black and hopeless. We've all moved desks in the office. My new position - right next to my boss - has upped the ante a bit. I'll try and get an initial assessment for CBT tomorrow - if I can remember.
This latest depressive spell is probably just a random occurrence but last week's letter from the council generated shock waves that I could have done without.
90, 96, 98, 04, 06, 12, ...
Yesterday morning Italy knocked England out of Euro 2012 on penalties. Giuseppe didn't seem to mind too much. It's the sixth time England have been dumped out of a major tournament in that way.
The 1990 shoot-out loss to the Germans was gut-wrenching for a ten-year-old boy but when '96 rolled around (those Germans again) I was far less bothered.
A pattern looks to be emerging; it points to more heartbreak for England in the World Cup in Brazil. But, according to Bad Science, perhaps I'm seeing a pattern where none exists.
The 1990 shoot-out loss to the Germans was gut-wrenching for a ten-year-old boy but when '96 rolled around (those Germans again) I was far less bothered.
A pattern looks to be emerging; it points to more heartbreak for England in the World Cup in Brazil. But, according to Bad Science, perhaps I'm seeing a pattern where none exists.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Bombshell
On Tuesday I got a letter from the council: "Your apartment building has been identified as potentially earthquake prone. The IEP (Initial Evaluation Process) for the building has been assessed with a score of less than 34." In fact it scored just 21, i.e. it only meets 21% of current standards, whatever that actually means. What it means for me is that I could be faced with a massive bill and an unsellable apartment (except at a knock-down price) until the strengthening works are carried out, if they are deemed necessary (I'll find out in December whether the building is an official earthquake risk).
Obviously I wasn't a happy bunny when I got this news. I thought I'd done my homework before I bought this place - the council told me it would be exempt from any assessment because the apartments were built in 1996-97, well after the 1976 cut-off. But now they say that the original building was constructed in about 1960 and was extended, converted into apartments and strengthened (inadequately in their view) in the nineties. The LIM (which I paid for last December) even says: "Year first constructed - 1990-1999". I emailed the chairman of the body corp committee who seemed as shocked as me. He thought I might have a valid claim with the council. To be honest when I bought this flat I was more concerned about the cost of strengthening work, which I might be faced with now, than the actual earthquake. Let's face it, if the fault line that runs through Wellington ruptures and we get a massive quake, heaps of houses and flats here will be toast. If you were really worried about earthquakes you wouldn't live in Wellington.
Tuesday and Wednesday weren't my best days (mental health-wise) but I improved towards the end of the week. Yesterday is a day I'd like to forget however. The atrocious weather made it a good day for online poker but I suffered my worst ever one-day loss (just over US$200). That didn't put me in the best of moods for a night out with Giuseppe at the Southern Cross (an enormous bar only a few minutes walk away, but as I'd never walked past it I never knew it was there). He brought two female friends along, and we listened to some music put on by the Alliance Française (which I used to be a member of); to be honest most of the music washed over me and I was glad we only stayed there two hours which seems to be my limit. Last night I almost wished I was back in Auckland, despite my misgivings about the place. At least I knew people who I felt comfortable around. And I wouldn't have bought an earthquake-prone building had I stayed there: they don't have many earthquakes and I couldn't have afforded a property anyway.
Talking of French music, at the waterfront market today two French blokes (with an accordion and a guitar) were playing this song by La Rue Ketanou (I preferred their version of it to the YouTube one).
Mum and Dad are currently in Turkey, on an organised two-week tour. I didn't think that would be their cup of tea, least of all Dad's, but they're enjoying it even if they're finding it a bit hot. They've emailed me using a Turkish keyboard which (like their alphabet) contains two I's, one with a dot and one without. İ don't thınk they quıte knew whıch İ to use where, so theır emaıl came out lookıng a lıttle weırd.
Obviously I wasn't a happy bunny when I got this news. I thought I'd done my homework before I bought this place - the council told me it would be exempt from any assessment because the apartments were built in 1996-97, well after the 1976 cut-off. But now they say that the original building was constructed in about 1960 and was extended, converted into apartments and strengthened (inadequately in their view) in the nineties. The LIM (which I paid for last December) even says: "Year first constructed - 1990-1999". I emailed the chairman of the body corp committee who seemed as shocked as me. He thought I might have a valid claim with the council. To be honest when I bought this flat I was more concerned about the cost of strengthening work, which I might be faced with now, than the actual earthquake. Let's face it, if the fault line that runs through Wellington ruptures and we get a massive quake, heaps of houses and flats here will be toast. If you were really worried about earthquakes you wouldn't live in Wellington.
Tuesday and Wednesday weren't my best days (mental health-wise) but I improved towards the end of the week. Yesterday is a day I'd like to forget however. The atrocious weather made it a good day for online poker but I suffered my worst ever one-day loss (just over US$200). That didn't put me in the best of moods for a night out with Giuseppe at the Southern Cross (an enormous bar only a few minutes walk away, but as I'd never walked past it I never knew it was there). He brought two female friends along, and we listened to some music put on by the Alliance Française (which I used to be a member of); to be honest most of the music washed over me and I was glad we only stayed there two hours which seems to be my limit. Last night I almost wished I was back in Auckland, despite my misgivings about the place. At least I knew people who I felt comfortable around. And I wouldn't have bought an earthquake-prone building had I stayed there: they don't have many earthquakes and I couldn't have afforded a property anyway.
Talking of French music, at the waterfront market today two French blokes (with an accordion and a guitar) were playing this song by La Rue Ketanou (I preferred their version of it to the YouTube one).
Mum and Dad are currently in Turkey, on an organised two-week tour. I didn't think that would be their cup of tea, least of all Dad's, but they're enjoying it even if they're finding it a bit hot. They've emailed me using a Turkish keyboard which (like their alphabet) contains two I's, one with a dot and one without. İ don't thınk they quıte knew whıch İ to use where, so theır emaıl came out lookıng a lıttle weırd.
Monday, June 18, 2012
CBT: Change Begins Tomorrow (I hope)
A couple of times I've been to the depression group, it's just been me and a slightly oily half-Italian guy named Giuseppe. He invited me round to his house for dinner on Saturday. He made good food and he had a nice bunch of friends but still I was glad to get home.
I've been feeling reasonably good about things for the last ten days or so, but today I feel another depressive episode coming on. Maybe just being aware of the tide turning ("catching it early", if you like) might prevent it from going out on me completely. Controlling my breathing definitely helps.
Tomorrow I'm going to contact the Psychology Clinic at Massey University and see about getting some CBT, mainly around my social anxiety and lack of motivation. CBT has received a lot of positive reviews. It's surprising, given that I've had mental health problems since 2000, that I've so far managed to slip through the CBT net.
Did I mention that Andy got married last November? Well yesterday his wife gave birth to a girl. Life-changing stuff.
I've been feeling reasonably good about things for the last ten days or so, but today I feel another depressive episode coming on. Maybe just being aware of the tide turning ("catching it early", if you like) might prevent it from going out on me completely. Controlling my breathing definitely helps.
Tomorrow I'm going to contact the Psychology Clinic at Massey University and see about getting some CBT, mainly around my social anxiety and lack of motivation. CBT has received a lot of positive reviews. It's surprising, given that I've had mental health problems since 2000, that I've so far managed to slip through the CBT net.
Did I mention that Andy got married last November? Well yesterday his wife gave birth to a girl. Life-changing stuff.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Diversions
Last weekend I discovered Amadou & Mariam, the blind musical duo from Mali. Listen to this amazing song; I found it really uplifting. I'd like to get my hands on their latest album but haven't found it in any shops yet.
After work today I popped into Arty Bees, the bookshop on Manners Street that's open till at least nine every day (ten on Fridays and Saturdays). I'm guessing the name "Arty Bees" comes from the letters RTB, but I might be wrong about that. They had what sounded like French sixties music playing - I wanted to know who it was. I thought I'd try and catch some of the lyrics and Google them when I got home, but then I hit on the radical idea of actually asking the woman behind the counter. Talking to a real person to find out information, I know. It turned out it was Jacques Dutronc. Anyway I read the first couple of chapters of Bad Science before going to the depression group, which wasn't much of a group (just two of us) but at least I went, unlike last week when I simply couldn't face all that talk of dating.
The last book I read was Janet Frame's Intensive Care. My own mental state was sometimes fragile as I read the book; the plot didn't help my mood that much. Interestingly (and unexpectedly) the subject of autism was touched upon with the appearance of the likeable (for me) Milly Galbraith.
After work today I popped into Arty Bees, the bookshop on Manners Street that's open till at least nine every day (ten on Fridays and Saturdays). I'm guessing the name "Arty Bees" comes from the letters RTB, but I might be wrong about that. They had what sounded like French sixties music playing - I wanted to know who it was. I thought I'd try and catch some of the lyrics and Google them when I got home, but then I hit on the radical idea of actually asking the woman behind the counter. Talking to a real person to find out information, I know. It turned out it was Jacques Dutronc. Anyway I read the first couple of chapters of Bad Science before going to the depression group, which wasn't much of a group (just two of us) but at least I went, unlike last week when I simply couldn't face all that talk of dating.
The last book I read was Janet Frame's Intensive Care. My own mental state was sometimes fragile as I read the book; the plot didn't help my mood that much. Interestingly (and unexpectedly) the subject of autism was touched upon with the appearance of the likeable (for me) Milly Galbraith.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Momentum shifts
There has been a definite upswing in my mood since I last posted. Tonight we had the autism group: fourteen turned up including some new faces. I felt pretty comfortable for most of the evening (unlike last time). It was especially good to see Tracy (who missed the last meeting) and Danielle.
I'm sure Saturday's tramp helped matters, although I was already feeling better before then. We set off from Oriental Parade, then followed the Southern Walkway up to Mt Victoria (which I'm ashamed to say I hadn't been up before, having lived so close to it), finishing up at Island Bay. On the way we could see the South Island, specifically the Kaikoura ranges which were covered in snow. Nine of us did the trip, which wasn't anything like my experience from two months ago. The weather was surprisingly good - none of the forecast rain eventuated and we had plenty of sun.
After the tramp I went to the Penthouse in Brooklyn to see Margin Call, a movie about the 2008 financial crisis. It was a thriller that followed an investment bank over a very turbulent 24 hours. A jolly good watch it was too. Boy did it show you what an unreal world some of those investment bankers live and work in. From what I could tell (I might be completely wrong, and anyway it was just a story), most of the company's assets were in derivatives whose value depended on the volatility of the stock market being below a certain level. Above that level, everything would unravel. I do remember the stock market being extremely volatile in 2008.
Work is still much the same. I try my best not to make mistakes but still make them (and of course on days like last Tuesday and Wednesday when I'm battling depression, I make even more). It would be nice if such a big deal wasn't made of my errors; I really don't need all that orange highlighter pen. It's funny how certain mistakes don't seem to matter at all though, even though they clearly should. For instance the underwriters produce health-related questionnaires for the clients and sometimes the doctors to fill in. They're often very badly written and make us look unprofessional, but nobody seems to care. Last Thursday my boss took me through my APOs, which stands for "annual performance objectives". I don't work on that sort of time scale; I just try to get through each day.
Last Wednesday we were supposed to see the Transit of Venus (for the last time in our lifetimes) but unfortunately such a phenomenon relies a bit too heavily on being able to see the sun, which was absent all day.
The men's final at the French Open is hanging in the balance as rain halted play yesterday. Nadal seemed to have thwarted Djokovic's attempt to become the first man since Rod Laver to hold all four grand slams at once as he took a two-set lead and a 2-0 lead in the third. But Djokovic stormed back, winning six straight games to wrap up the set and then gaining an early break in the fourth. With such a momentum shift, the rain probably came at a good time for Nadal. The resumption of play is only a few minutes away but I need to sleep and anyway I haven't got Sky. Earlier Sharapova claimed the women's title and with it the world number one ranking.
Update: Nadal broke back immediately and took out the fourth set 7-5 to win his seventh French Open.
I'm sure Saturday's tramp helped matters, although I was already feeling better before then. We set off from Oriental Parade, then followed the Southern Walkway up to Mt Victoria (which I'm ashamed to say I hadn't been up before, having lived so close to it), finishing up at Island Bay. On the way we could see the South Island, specifically the Kaikoura ranges which were covered in snow. Nine of us did the trip, which wasn't anything like my experience from two months ago. The weather was surprisingly good - none of the forecast rain eventuated and we had plenty of sun.
After the tramp I went to the Penthouse in Brooklyn to see Margin Call, a movie about the 2008 financial crisis. It was a thriller that followed an investment bank over a very turbulent 24 hours. A jolly good watch it was too. Boy did it show you what an unreal world some of those investment bankers live and work in. From what I could tell (I might be completely wrong, and anyway it was just a story), most of the company's assets were in derivatives whose value depended on the volatility of the stock market being below a certain level. Above that level, everything would unravel. I do remember the stock market being extremely volatile in 2008.
Work is still much the same. I try my best not to make mistakes but still make them (and of course on days like last Tuesday and Wednesday when I'm battling depression, I make even more). It would be nice if such a big deal wasn't made of my errors; I really don't need all that orange highlighter pen. It's funny how certain mistakes don't seem to matter at all though, even though they clearly should. For instance the underwriters produce health-related questionnaires for the clients and sometimes the doctors to fill in. They're often very badly written and make us look unprofessional, but nobody seems to care. Last Thursday my boss took me through my APOs, which stands for "annual performance objectives". I don't work on that sort of time scale; I just try to get through each day.
Last Wednesday we were supposed to see the Transit of Venus (for the last time in our lifetimes) but unfortunately such a phenomenon relies a bit too heavily on being able to see the sun, which was absent all day.
The men's final at the French Open is hanging in the balance as rain halted play yesterday. Nadal seemed to have thwarted Djokovic's attempt to become the first man since Rod Laver to hold all four grand slams at once as he took a two-set lead and a 2-0 lead in the third. But Djokovic stormed back, winning six straight games to wrap up the set and then gaining an early break in the fourth. With such a momentum shift, the rain probably came at a good time for Nadal. The resumption of play is only a few minutes away but I need to sleep and anyway I haven't got Sky. Earlier Sharapova claimed the women's title and with it the world number one ranking.
Update: Nadal broke back immediately and took out the fourth set 7-5 to win his seventh French Open.
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