Back with a bump..


Only a four day week this week, which you'd think would be a blessing and would allow for a nice steady roll back into the cut and thrust of working for a living, but not a bit of it.

Instead, Tuesday saw me schlepping up country to the local-ish office to plan our two day review of the current piece of well honed guess work. Like any of the guess work we do, this one has been deftly calculated by some of the sharpest minds in the business. And me.

Naturally they'd all deny it, but not me. I know I'm awesome. Just not sure what it is that I'm awesome at. Guesswork most likely, and this theory is somewhat borne out by the fact that the sharp minds have heaved and hoe'd and squinted and thunk and basically have got us right back to the same place we were in two months ago. That's not to say they've not improved it, it's just not got any smaller.... Or bigger.

The day went well, ducks seem to be mostly in a row and while we can safely expect awkward questions during the review, we feel like we have the right answers to them and all should be well with the world (at least that's the theory).

In essence this is a re-run of the agonising week I had back in November, only this time we've had a bit more time to think about it.

In the meantime, the Badman, who I've yet to speak to in 2012, has got himself a new and interesting piece of guessing to do which is not at all dis-similar to the one that he and I successfully concluded last year. My current goal therefore (besides surviving to my next birthday - its only a week away, should be achievable) is to get this round of the fat job sorted so that I can escape and go and help him out with a far skinnier and dare I say bonier piece instead.

But before that can happen, I have to spend the next two days back in London. The alarm didn't go off at stupid o'clock this morning because I was already awake - most annoying - so now it's 7am and I'm hovering about 6 foot off the ground above some steel rails somewhere in the vacinity of Didcot Parkway, en-route to Paddington.

A proper winter's morning means its fresh and cold and a night in the city means I'm carry the "big coat" and lugging the "big bag". Luckily the train is reasonably empty and I'm rather hoping it stays that way.

There's Mr middle-aged-spread with headphones on his iPhone, grinning to himself (I hope he's listening to wittertainment). Mr waiting-for-retirement who was on his kindle before his energy level gave out and he had to go back to sleep (I only wish he wouldn't snore) and there's Ms Keen-to-get-on who immediately filled up her available space with her laptop and started beavering away. She works in banking judging by her spread of paperwork all over the cabin. I'll not go into details. It's not a criticism, and its not a life either.

Not much to report in the way of inane railway passenger conversation, which is a shame, but for a couple of snippets...

"She still had to interview us, I just don't think she was that worried. It's been such a struggle. And that bloody woman's come to get that stuff... Uggghh"

"Foundation, Mascara and a bottle of nail varnish"

Ah well, there's bound to be some excitement up that London, so we'll just have to wait and see what it is.

This post originally appeared here: Posterous