Archive for the ‘work’ Tag

Exodus Advent: 87 Days To Go   Leave a comment

Burn, 12 hours later.

 

Injury of the day: Got out of the shower and towelled off; then, bending to pick up my underwear I burned my butt against the towel heater/radiator.  That’s my world: I need a Safe Word for my fucking house. (FYI: In real life, it’s “Oxford,” because if you’ve arrived at “Oxford” the fun is over.)

Sent 200kg of parts and derelict equipment saved for parts to the skip, today.  Very satisfying although I would take a lot of it with me if I could; no one here is ever going to use any of it (they’ll need it, but they wouldn’t recognise that fact nor even that it is something that would fill that need).  Also, started bringing boxes into the house for early packing.

 

 

 

 

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Posted September 25, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in work

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Exodus Advent: 88 Days To Go   Leave a comment

Monday 24th September and there are 88 days left until I am furloughed.

Walking past a glass wall on my way to the lab, I saw a pigeon fall to the floor near a dying tropical plant.  It must have flown into the side of Chemistry Research Lab unaware of the mistake it had made.  Metaphor.

Also, got a firm start date at the new job of 3 January, two weeks short of the 10th anniversary of my start at Cambridge.  Spent most of the day clearing out instrument spares no one will ever use here once I’m gone.  Catharsis.

Posted September 24, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in work

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Exodus Advent: 89 Days To Go   Leave a comment

Crossed the 90 days remaining mark yesterday.  We didn’t have Dom Perignon (↑), but they were better bubbles than usual.

Started a massive To Do list to try to keep focused and productive this final stretch.  Edited Jackie’s citizenship forms and booked in a final checking service appointment.  Awaiting confirmation of start date to see when to move from here.  Can’t stop thinking about boxes — where to get them, how much to pack away now, etc.  All is chaos.

Nearly cut my left thumb off whittling last night.  The blade is sort of a surgical blade, curved and larger than the ones at work but essentially a scalpel.  Shouldn’t do pull cuts on such stiff wood (some really old rosewood from the arms of the Chinese Sex Chair) nor when the hands are really tired (I had been hacking away for 4 hours by then) nor, especially, when I’m that high.  It was not at all difficult to dislodge the blade from the bone but it definitely was stuck into it, about a midway between the knuckles.  A deep cut, it is only about a cm long so I’m not too bothered.  The sculpture is planned to be a hare in full flight and finally starting to assume shape close enough for me to start the fine carving.

 

Posted September 23, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in work

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Farewell to Oxford   1 comment

 

Or should that be, “Good Riddance?”

Regardless, it’s a long goodbye.  I’ve been tunnelling out of this dump for more than 3 years and I’ve still got a 3 month notice to work out.  But, “up here, I’m already gone”:

 

 

 

 

Posted September 20, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in work

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This Week I Have Been Mostly Reading …   1 comment

 

I don’t have many people at work I consider friends and one of them left the labs for good, yesterday, frustrated by the nonsense in the University, the Department, the lab and his research group.  He lasted nearly 2 years before The Great Funk (not the good kind, either) set in.  The brightest burn out the quickest (while a dim bulb like meself carries on toward the 10 year mark).  We didn’t have many conversations but every one of them was engrossing, intense, and completely free range (not free ranging, but free range, like chickens pecking at the soil).  During one of these, an offhand comment about acid during a longer discussion of one of my frequent head injuries (the one where I was struck by a falling tree whilst running in a snowstorm near Athens, Georgia) stuck with him; not a tripper himself but open to it, he applied his freakish eidetic memory to a choice of parting gifts and presented me with Michael Pollan’s How To Change Your Mind: The New Science of Psychedelics.  I am touched by this unusually thoughtful gift and I hope he knows how much I will cherish it (not least because I was going to buy it for myself when it comes out in a trades/paper edition).

I have also been reading my twit feed fairly regularly and recently added Existential Comics to list of followed accounts.  This is a recent one, typical of the genre:

 

 

Ironside, RIP   Leave a comment

Over the last 25 years, I’ve been incredibly lucky to work for — often with — a couple of dozen eminent scientists, able to honestly call most of them friends.  During my short tenure at Cambridge, I never met Stephen Hawking (unsurprisingly), but one of my bosses there who is now what passes for ‘head of research’ at the University told me a couple of amusing stories about him while we were out for a long jog in the fens.

Yesterday was busy at work and it slipped my mind that he finally slipped the coil.  I headed home and, as I passed University College, it took a moment to realise why the College banner was at half mast.

Loads has been in print these past 36 hours about his Pop Culture importance like his appearances on episodes of The Simpsons and Big Bang Theory (among other tele programmes).  People forget about his brief tenure in the early 70’s replacing Raymond Burr while he was in prison for smuggling heroin across the border at Tijuana:

Posted March 15, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Obits

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The Locker Room, Northwood Hills, Middlesex   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2067:

Lightly raining and windy out, I got lost in the fading light and veered northwest from TJ’s Sportsbar (when I should have had bearings of WSW). Powering through the climb to Northwood Hills Station whence I could easily find my way home, light glinting on a raised beer glass inside the Locker Room distracted me. Of course, I went in.

The only other pub in the area closed down several months back so this new venue is a more than welcome addition. Instead of “Locker Room,” I’m getting more a sense of a West End playhouse version of an industrial site: chain linked fencing to define zones and furniture fashioned from scrap lumber and metal. They seem to mean well, they have at least one ale on (although I went for a lager), and the short track speed skating from the Winter Olympics was on tele. Result.

 

 

Posted February 26, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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