brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (fire)
It's freezing!

It's just so cold in Oxford right now. Moreover it has kept on being cold, which I don't think happened the last few winters. Cold cold cold. Our downstairs neighbours' pipes are bursting, meaning that we have actually been instructed to keep all the radiators *on* (not just on 'don't freeze'). This means I can feel guilt-free about having them all on a low setting.

Oh jeebers it's cold.

end whinge
brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (grrr)
So in the last week I've lost count of the number of times someone has asked me to express chagrin that 'Team GB' (seriously?) has won more gold medals than Australia at the Olympics. Seriously. As though I ought to start gnashing my teeth in despair at this fact.

I've always been rather ashamed at the fact that, per head of population, Australia features quite highly in these tables, because, frankly, it suggests we spend far too much money to enable people to take part in elite competitions. It doesn't reflect the sporting prowess (or participation) of the average Australian, but does highlight a rather nasty aspect of our culture - that we care deeply about being the winner in zero sum games. To see the Brits now aspiring to that is depressing.

To have radio 4 natter on about how they have more medals than Australia for more than 10 minutes every morning is a bore, and undermines the high ground Britain had previously held (in being able to claim to have more important things to care about).

Next time the Daily Mail rails at NICE for 'trying to put a price on human life',
maybe they could ask how many cancer drugs could be funded with the £12 billion budget for 2012. And instead of bemoaning the use of public money to treat 'obesity and IVF',
maybe Terry Pratchett could hassle the cycling team to fund his Aricept.


Feb. 22nd, 2008 05:33 pm
brightlywoven: (huh?)
Walking dehydrated around hospital. Haven't enough coins in pocket for large bottle of water, but enough for smaller bottle of clear fluid with a picture of an orange slice. OK, thinks I, will have some poxy 'hint of orange' but am dying of thirst!

Open bottle - gag! Is aspartame + 'orange' flavoured water. 'Sugar free' boasts label. Know what else is clear and sugar free? WATER. Stupid modern world.
brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (grrr)
There has been a disturbing outbreak of relentless cheerfulness in this household today. Someone seems to have decided that my exam gloom and seasonal misery needed lifting. There has been mockery of my weather assessment. [1] Then, on a journey to get my bike fixed and buy some groceries, levels of jollility reached such alarming levels that *shopping bags were swung in a carefree manner*. I kid you not. I feared that actual skipping might break out at any second.

Now we have a song playing that promises all will be well, in a most whimsical manner.

This must be stopped.

*Grumble grumble grumble* *wonders if curmudgeon can become a verb*

[1] But it IS always raining. Always always. And if it's not actively got water falling from the sky it's seeping up from the ground and getting my feet wet. And if by some miracle it stops raining, it starts again when I think about going out. Or it's dark. Because it's always dark.
brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (Default)
Every time I try and gear myself up to believing this film might be worth it, another detail of the Northern Lights film is leaked, and I despair. Apparently it's not religion we need to fear, it's those pesky commies again.,,2190765,00.html

It would appear that not only are they an essential part of the plot, but that they are doing so, at least in part, at the behest of *that woman*. Ye gods!
brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (Default)
Today the research monitor suddenly announced that the trial sponsors want all our patient information on their web based data entry sytem by Monday. Bye bye weekend. Ah well, I mused, at least it's internet based. Perhaps I can at least have a weekend of brainless data entry at home, with regular tea, music and hug breaks. So I lug all the paper files home.

What do I discover? Firstly that the system declares itself 'incompatible' with any browser except IE. Then, that it flat out refuses to be run on a mac. So we manage to get firefox to fool the program into thinking it is IE, and there is much rejoicing. Load it up, only to discover the damn 'save' button isn't rendered in this hack, so I can't register any work.

Damn it four times round the car park then back inside for another damn. Now I get to spend sunny saturday in a 2m by 2m office with a tiny window and crappy chairs and no kettle.

brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (modigliani)
It's Friday night.

I have been procrastinating all day because work has been quiet.

It's actually sunny outside, and the evenings are getting shorter.

Am I perambulating port meadow with exactlyhalf? Am I drinking a pint at the Turf? No, I am sitting in a dark office, waiting for the effing courier to arrive and pick up a blood tube for a test that could be done equally well in the lab upstairs, but which protocol dictates must be processed in Geneva and which will expire if left here over the weekend waiting to be flown to Sweden.

Yegod and little fishes, I am very frustrated!!!
brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (biscuit)

After difficulty sleeping last night (something to do with reading a book for 5 hours after getting home - I think my subconscious thought that if I couldn't sleep, I'd have to stay up and read), today I woke up at the time I'm usually on my bike. A jump up, a yelp, some sleepy advice from exactlyhalf to call a cab, and I pelted out of the house (luckily remembering my contact lenses first).

And now it's so quiet at work I'm posting on lj!


brightlywoven: Pickwick the dodo, one of a kind, hand made by my stepmum (Default)

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