Am in the front carriage of a train back from London, where I was – rather fleetingly, sorry Tom – for an interview. The Dublin project sounds fun; people seemed pleasant; they hinted darkly that there’s some delicate political juggling to be done (so what else is new?); either I’m way out of step, or they’re going to struggle to get somebody for the rate they’re suggesting.
Hmm. It was worth meeting them, anyway, and we’ll see what happens.
It was also worth being down today to complete and hand over not just an invoice for SciCast, but also an expenses claim. The latter came to the best part of £2,000, since it includes all the kit we’ve bought so far as well as things like all those tapes I keep taking photos of. Those running the project don’t seem to be entirely familiar with this sort of thing, and I’m trying to convince them that having their contractors cash-flow the project is, frankly, nuts. They may start to see my point now.
Tomorrow: Glasgow. Wednesday: Manchester again, for the BIG Event. I’m starting to get very nervy about the session I’m hosting that’s about project management, though mainly because the way I’m planning to do it, I’m rather reliant on there being at least a modest audience. If there are only a handful of people, it’s simply not going to work.
Aaaanyway, my real reason for posting is to note that at the very, very front of this carriage there’s a young couple who, to all audible appearances, are having (mostly) furtive (but occasionally yelping) sex. The rest of us aren’t sure whether to be appalled, to crack up laughing, or to marvel at our collective British reserve, which is proving to be so strong that none of us dares turn around to find out what’s actually going on.