My home is not a place, it is people

Lois McMaster Bujold

Although there's a certain truth to that, nevertheless being back in a familiar place is a considerable relief. Arriving at Heathrow and simply being able to lug my case down to the Tube and get home under my own steam (near enough) was so familiar that it felt like bliss, even if it did take ages.

I managed to get here eventually: I'd had to get up at 5am to get to the airport in time, not a consequence I'd thought through when planning my flight. The domestic leg went fine, arrived at CSIA domestic terminal (the modern, refurbished bit) and then it went a bit pear-shaped: the bus that's supposed to shuttle people between the domestic and international terminals didn't arrive. I wasn't the only one put out by this... tempers were definitely beginning to fray as peoples' departure times crept closer!

The bus finally turned up about 35 minutes late--- several minutes after my flight was supposed to have started boarding. Fortunately, Jet were on the ball and had someone on the bus to guide us through the international terminal; including, for instance, bagging one of the first-class emigration desks to allow us to bypass the queue. After that, we hustled through the security check area and got advised to run for the gate. Which I did--- so I guess the half-marathon training came in useful! :) Admittedly, legging it through an airport in jeans and Magnum boots carrying a laptop bag wasn't quite the same. Nor did it help that the outside temperature was about 33C, and CSIA's international terminal only has working air conditioning in some parts: notably not the outboard sections past the gates.

But I managed to get on the plane, as did at least some of the others who had been on that transfer bus: I'm not sure how many made it. The plane finally departed 20-30 minutes late, but after that it was plain sailing. I still didn't manage to get properly to sleep on the flight: not helped by the fact that the guy in front of me had a habit of lifting the window shade to look out every 15 minutes or so, despite the fact that we were on the side with the sun shining straight in. However, I managed to get through it, rather glad that I'd remembered to keep my MP3 player in my hand luggage this time. Since my luggage made it to Heathrow with me as well, I can't be complaining.

On the whole, glad to be home. I was too tired to be going out last night (not that I had anything planned) and still feeling strung out today, although I did make it out to Tesco to restock the fridge. Back to work at Victoria Street tomorrow: this means investigating how our expenses claim system works.

Two weeks since I updated? No can can claim that's unusual!

( Running )

( Bangalore )

Photos so far are here

Today I went on the last training run (3 miles steady) before the half-marathon on Sunday. So the next couple of days are going to be extra anxious with no outlet for excess energy. And since I'm flying out to India on Sunday night, I'll be spending Saturday trying to pack and calm myself for the race in the morning at the same time, likely story.

The race is on Sunday morning at the O2 centre if anyone feels like coming along to point and laugh provide support. There's a course map on gmap-pedometer. Although it looks like they're predicting rain on Sunday, but what do they know?

I set myself a target of 2 hours when I got the training schedule. I've been able to keep up with the schedule pretty well (bar light injuries, triathlons and drama-related can't-be-arsedness) so now I'm beginning to wonder if that wasn't aggressive enough. Hmm, not a good time to start fiddling with the targets now.

I received my London Marathon rejection pack this morning. (Letter + magazine + fleece). So that plan's out the window for next spring, need to see about an alternative. I could do the Reading half, somewhere nice and familiar; or maybe get adventurous and go abroad, combine it with a bit of a holiday? For example, the Prague Half is at the end of March... Hmm-hmmm...

And off to Bangalore for two weeks starting next week. I am utterly utterly unenthused. Not sure if this is really a reaction to the trip itself or just general work-related depression and disassociation. Probably a combination of both. Hopefully I'll manage to do more than just stare at the inside of offices and hotel rooms while I'm out there... to facilitate this, I've bought a new toy invested in an upgraded camera to replace my aging FinePix A203: a Canon PowerShot G9, which is a kind of half-way house between a compact and a DSLR--- more tweakable (and bulkier) than a normal compact, but not so extensible (or bulky, or expensive) as an SLR. I've been experimenting with it a little: the results are up on Flickr--- with which I'm actually quite impressed now that I've used it. So now I can put photos on Flickr, Facebook, Scrapbook and Myspace. I'll have to devise a system...

A week after I get back, I'm heading to a friend's birthday/out-of-hospital drinkup at the Fox and possible outing to Decadence after. I've been invited to "bring a gang", so if anyone feels like maybe heading there before Vagabonds, or even giving up Vagabonds for a night more metal...?

And then the week after that it's Infected Mushroom at the Indiglo. Music taste swings like mood swings :)

Went out for a work party last night. No specific occasion, just a tradition of having some sort of party in the summer. It was at the Slug and Lettuce, so not exactly my type of place, but they were paying for the drinks so I was hardly going to complain too much. Needless to say, free drinks meant chaos and carnage joined the party too; someone quite impressively smashed a pint glass on their foot... Coming closing time we headed on to Zanders for at least a limited number of more drinks (although by this time I'd hit my limit and was nursing a single vodka and coke).

Was all good fun though, although typically the journey home wasn't. I just missed the 0145ish train from Paddington and ended up sitting reading a book in Paddington for over an hour... did randomly meet two people going to Glade the next day, although wasn't able to get a straight answer about WTF they were going to Reading at that godawful time: they assured me there was a 5-in-the-morning train from Reading to Aldermaston. Hmmm.

Apart from the initial wait it wasn't too bad although it probably worked out to take about the same time as getting a bus all the way back to Northolt. But the wait and the train was probably better for my, ah, delicate condition at the time. Although since I was reading a book I couldn't have been too out of it.

There were lots of sore heads at work today. We opted to flush our systems by going to Nandos and having a jumbo platter; the spicy chicken endorphin rush gave us strength to get through to the end of the day, just...

Russ took various pictures throughout the night. Including one of me pretty wasted in Zanders... ( Pic )

I'm marginally more tired than stressed at the moment. Being handed a 6-week project to finish in 2 weeks is no fun; and it's not really let up much since then. I also seem to be the subject of an office-politics turf war (fortunately this is due to a "we want him" conflict, not a "take him away" approach being taken---I'd be pleased if they'd leave me alone to get on with stuff while they sort it out).

In my copious spare time, I've managed to find a house to move to, which is convenient because our tenancy expires in just over two weeks. In case anyone cares, we'll be living in Greenford, paying £150 a month less each for a slightly quicker journey, which is in fact a cycling-distance journey. I can cope with that. Provided nothing takes a shit in my bank account between now and having to pay the deposit. And then there's all the hassle of acutally moving: I still have the occasional nightmare about the last time, and that was two years ago. Our books seem to be taking up more than double the space these days. If any kind souls could help move stuff around the weekend of 26th/27th (or in the week beforehand) that would be much appreciated. Would have to discuss ferrying people between here and London though. My head hurts just thinking about it (this reaction has dogged the entire house-hunting process).

The place is big enough that we'll probably look to arrange something along the lines of a party at some point, provided enough people might turn up to avoid excessive rattling around :}

Sue's just discovered that the house opposite the one we got is also up for rent, but for £100pcm more. Lucky dip?

Two weeks off work! Thank goodness for that, too. Currently hungry on a train.