Life-&-Living

Against my better judgement – and that not for the first time – I call S on Sunday evening. Predictably she doesn’t answer her phone. The first and only acknowledgement of the missed call comes on Tuesday night, a full fifty-two hours later, when she texts to apologise for missing my call, citing being tied up with chores and ironing. Given she is someone I have been trying to get a face to face with since early July; and who pulled out of yet another agreement in principle to meet up the Thursday before the Sunday on which I call her citing busyness again; it does begin to strain the limits of credulity to imagine these are just random, real limitations on time as opposed to a fully intentional strategy to avoid meeting up. ...

Standing at the window looking out - as I am wont to do on most slow Fridays - waiting for our old, creaky coffee machine to piddle out water for my cup of tea, G. asks me if I am ‘talent’ spotting. I do not ask what exactly he means, but there can be no ambivalence here. The coffee machine sits right next to a large window, with a view which although largely taken up by monolithic grey, granite buildings does include enough of the perennially busy street to provide a feast for sore eyes on most days. Unfortunately on this occasion there is no talent to be spotted. It is that nearly dead period just before lunch hours kick in across the city where most serious talent is locked behind desks squirrelling away at work rather than strutting their stuff across the streets. The clear nip in the air also means that what sparse talent there might be is very well covered up, the skimpy summer outfits now replaced by coats and scarves. G. and I moan about the weather - it is predicted to hover between 10 and 14 degrees all weekend with a smattering of showers here and there; hardly the kind of weather to inspire any serious weekend plans. The darned autumn I suppose. ...

Tee and I have somehow segued into friend zone territory - catching up once a day on average to share the minutiae of life, moan about our respective bosses and all the other things working adults who live alone find the time to complain about. She has had a lot on her plate lately between work, illness and family visits, as I have been with work and my urgent trip down south to Sheffield to sort out the small matter of a visa. ...

I suppose there are worse ways to spend your birthday than being stuck behind a desk, being one of two members of the team available from a full complement of five, praying and hoping no emergency pops up requiring you to suit up and go offshore at short notice. Thankfully that, getting sent offshore, didn’t happen; and I had the pleasure of spending Friday away from work, catching up with myself… ...

To the Year of Living Intentionally, or dangerously… Between standing on the cusp of the 34th birthday, and getting a diagnosis of borderline LVH, I have come very close to freaking out more than a few times over the last few weeks. More so perhaps because in stumbling on an early copy of the 5 year plan - written back in the day when I was an excitable 26 year old with the dream job and the dream girl, and all the important people in my life the small matter of a six hour road trip away - just how far off target in quite a few categories I still am was made very clear. ...

London was warm, a tad too warm if the truth must be told. And dry - well, except for that wretched Saturday evening, which in keeping with my rotten luck with these things, was the one day I decided to be out and about into the wee hours of the morning. Other than that, the contrast with the ‘Deen couldn’t have been starker – wet, barely nudging 19 degree weather and warm, dry, 26 degree weather and sunshine, separated by the small matter of sixty five minutes of flying. ...

Besting 500 calories in one gym session…. The future Mrs S best be pleased :)

In line at my GP’s, waiting for an audience with the receptionist who I want to confirm an appointment with, I find myself growing impatient despite being only the fifth person in line. It looks, and feels, like everyone and their dog opted to stop by today. It is a warm day and there are at least ten people in various stages of repose on the chairs scattered around the waiting room. Inwardly I am cursing myself and my daftness for choosing lunch to do this. At the head of the queue, a large-ish woman engages the receptionist in a conversation of sorts - if speaking two unrelated languages can be classed as a conversation. She, like me, has an appointment to confirm, unlike me she needs an interpreter to pass her query across. The dour, matronly receptionist seems to be at a loss, unable to determine what is an appropriate response besides saying repeatedly ‘The nurse is not in yet, she’ll call for you when she has an interpreter on the line’. Six times and five minutes later, she has made no headway, and the woman has held the line up for all of that time. Our saving grace is the nurse calling out ‘Olga", allied with a name I can’t recall. Recognising her name, she makes her way to the consulting room to be attended to. Needless to say, I am not at my most gracious at the delay - unnecessarily so. ...

The bright warm sunshine that streamed in through the office windows – whilst I was hard at work on Friday afternoon - vanished in time for the weekend, true to form. Up here in my little corner of the world, the one gripe that we all - rich, poor, cab driver, CEO, native born or immigrant - share, is the weather and its propensity to turning on a whim at the most inopportune of moments. ...

Distilled into three main components: Be the best husband, father, brother, son and friend I can be; Excel in (Corrosion, Materials and Welding) Engineering; Live in, and contribute to life in, a great church and a great city. Not quite as simple as it sounds, but tiny first steps are all that count, no?