LL and P

Always wondered how I'd look as a Vulcan.

I didn't really.

Working from home (ish)

Like all Mondays, I was working from home yesterday. Or rather, working from the garden for most of the afternoon. Wireless internet is a wonderful thing. I felt compelled to let a couple of the people in the office know that I was working from the garden. By one of those strange coincidences, they both called me the exact same thing.

Book by cover

Watch this first.

My initial thought was, how brilliant to see the smugness wiped instantly from the faces of Simon Cowell and Piers Morgan. And it was nice how the judges all heaped praised upon Susan after she finished singing.

The problem I have is this. The judges, and (from the look of it) the audience* all had to pick their jaws up off the floor when Susan started to sing. As if it was somehow inconceivable for someone who's not a classic beauty (I'm trying to be diplomatic here) to have a beautiful voice.

So what initially sounded like compliments came off sounding quite insulting.

* Look at the girl in the audience just after Susan says "I'm trying to be a professional singer".

Nervy

Tomorrow (actually later today) I'm installing a client system. This is something I've done loads of times before, but I've never been more nervous at the prospect. I've installed loads of systems over the last year - but there's a crucial difference here. All the systems I've installed since my return to work (in September 2006) have been done remotely - which means I send them the install files the day before the install, then I dial into their network and put all the files into the right place (hopefully).

But tomorrow (today) I actually have to show up - in person - and do more or less the same thing. Now that I've typed that out, it doesn't sound like such a big deal. But it means that if something fucks up I have to look people in the eye whilst trying to concoct my excuses. It also means having to wear a suit. And a tie. And trying not to scream out a volley of extremely rude words any time something goes a little bit wrong. And wearing a tie. And a suit. And wearing a tie. And trying not to say fuck in front of clients. And wearing a tie.

I think it's the tie thing that's bothering me the most. It's just not natural, a bit of cloth around ones neck cutting off the blood supply to ones eyeballs. I've never been comfortable wearing a tie. Or a suit, for that matter. The suit might fit, but it just doesn't fit. I think what I'm trying to say is this - anytime I dress up (and I do consider it 'dressing up') in a suit and tie, I feel a fraud. It's not me. I have no business wearing this sort of stuff. That's what "professional" people wear. You see these people strutting around the place, looking all confident in their suits - almost as if they were born in them, and it's the most natural thing in the world. But it's just not me.

A suit does not suit me. Or I don't suit a suit. It's one of the two. Or both.

This has been a wee bit ramble-y. Sorry about that. We won the pub quiz tonight, scoring 89 points out of a possible 100. That means we've won 5 times out of 12 so far this year. Scoring 963 points over 12 weeks, giving us a weekly average of 80.25. Which is impressive. But not quite impressive enough to take my mind off of having to wear a tie tomorrow (today).

Bedtime.

Don't drink out-of-date beer.

No, really. Don't.

Worst After

Just so you know, and as a reminder to myself, drinking out-of-date beer is probably not the best idea.