Things looking up

Oh joy! I won the wine lottery today, so I now have a bottle of Marqués de Cacéres in my bag. I also have cash, despite being walletless, as I have the money to buy the bottles for next Friday. Not that I was actually planning on spending any money on the way home, but I don’t like being completely without any cash or plastic.

Voice in my head: Baby Blue (Dylan)

Still got the blues

Ok, I think the cold may be to blame after all. Today, anyway. My head’s gone all fuzzy and cloudy and I keep sneezing. And, oh, has it been a month already? Does this mean I can go home? Well, maybe. Except I’ve just realised I left my filofax and wallet at home today. Which means I would not have shown my season ticket for the bus if there had been an inspection. And also that I will have no season ticket going home either, and no money to buy a single to cover the journey. Hang on, I think I still have that multi-saver thing in the front pocket of my backpack. Yes! God bless backpacks.

Voice in my head: The Inspector Gadget theme

Laziness

Look yourself in the eyes (a mirror helps) and repeat 100 times:

“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”
“I will get a grip”

Ah, f… it! 10 times will have to do.

Blatant self-pity, please ignore

This morning I lay in bed, half awake, for an hour and twenty minutes – listening to the radio, attempting to convince myself to get up. And now it’s after lunch and I wish I were still there. It’s just the post-holiday blues, I guess.

Willing myself to concentrate on work, now, but my tasks today are all so vague and hard to pin down. If I had a piece of buggy code that needed to work by the end of the day, it would be so much easier to get on with it, but it’s all “research” and all I want to do is go home and stay under the covers for at least a long weekend. I do have a lingering cold (the British climate, or rather, the British attitude to such issues as insulation and ventilation, does not agree with me), but it’s not anywhere bad enough to get me off work. It’s not even really bad enough to use as an excuse for feeling miserable while at work. What’s the point of a cold if you can’t even use it as an excuse for feeling miserable?

Voice in my head: I Guess that’s why They call it the Blues (Elton John)

Whisky

Well, I’m back. Had a lovely time. The last four days were a bit hazy as we started the whisky tastings some time in the late morning in general, and although I didn’t have much of any one whisky I did have a lot of different ones. I learnt a lot. We had tours of several distilleries (of which, the Aberlour tour is recommended, but be warned that it must be booked in advance), and though I knew roughly what the production process was, and though I have been round distilleries before (granted, I was ten at the time), there were a lot of details to absorb (hm, apt word) – enough to make one’s head swim, even without the occasionally heavy alchohol fumes in the air.

In Dufftown we stayed at a place called Tannochbrae, where we also had dinner every night, a wise decision as the food was heavenly (in fact, the tagliatelle carbonara was so good I ended up having it three days in a row) and reasonable. As a B&B Tannochbrae is soundly recommended, for the food, the rooms, the prices and the hosts.

I have, of course, spent way too much money, but I think it was worth it.

More tidbits will probably follow over the next couple of weeks, but that will have to be all for now.

Voice in my head: Complicated (Avril Lavigne)

wagnhiwd

Googlism:

Well, I recognise “ragnhild is actually pronounced “robin””, but I wonder what all the other Ragnhilds and the Ragnhilds’ friends and relations are going to make of it…

Now, “ragnhild is buried in crystal lake cemetery” is just alarming (you’d think I’d have noticed?) and if “ragnhild is presently the executive director of the bridge”, I think maybe they ought to have told me.

However, “ragnhild is an amazingly sweet girl” is reassuring.

Voice in my head: Elmer Fudd singing “O Susanna” (“It wained the night and day I weft, the weathew was so dwy”)

Sunshine

Don’t know what all the fuss is about concerning Scottish weather, it’s behaving beautifully at the moment. Blue skies, sun enough to satisfy even the most fanatic fans of Ra. In fact, it’s almost a little too much of a good thing, especially as I left my sunglasses back at the B&B. Luckily the temperatures are quite wintery, I could see my breath this morning. Much more comfortable for traipsing around in.

This is costing me a fortune per minute, so I’ll excuse myself with the well-known (though rarely practiced) opinion that brevity is the soul of wit, and hope you all have as nice a day as I’m having.

Voice in my head: Isn’t it Ironic (Alanis Morisette – backed by frantic typing all around me)

Stick a fork in me, I’m done

Having a hard time concentrating. Which is a problem, as my main task today is checking over documents that will end as attachments to a big deal we’re supposed to sign next week (I say “we”, I won’t actually be her, of course, I’ll be in Scotland. Which makes it all the more important that I identify any issues I need to raise NOW rather than when I get back – after people heve put their names on teh dotted lines). The documents, therefore, describe pretty much what I’ll be working on until some time next year. And I’m in charge of estimating how much time we’ll need to do the work, so if I don’t check the documents properly, I may find myself in all kinds of s**t come March. Not a pleasant prospect. My, this responsibilty thing is fun, isn’t it? (Ahem.)

But it is so hard to consentrate. I want to go home and pack!

Norwegian lesson of the day: Reisefeber n. Travel fever; an innocuous psychological affliction. the special kind of mostly pleasurable restlessness and flutterings of the stomach experienced in the days, weeks or months before travelling. A more frustrating variant of reisefeber can be experienced in cases of “travel by association”, when someone close to the afflicted person is travelling to either A. a place the afflicted person knows well or B. a place the afflicted person would really like to visit.

Voice in my head: Tangled Up in Blue