There's a distinctly early soundtrack of fireworks tonight (November 5th is a Monday this year) and I'm trying to shake the weird sensation that tomorrow is a school day and I should *really* be finishing up my homework. Which is another way of trying to acknowledge that I am not taking to my shiny new job training like the proverbial duck to water just yet.
I did promise myself on Friday afternoon that I'd spend the weekend going over all the turns I'd screwed up over the week and trying to find my way around the department website - mainly because I didn't even manage to finish the net research exercise in the allotted time that afternoon. At which point I may as well curl up in the corner and admit defeat because, hell, that's the one sodding thing I actually thought I could do already.
Ah, well, here's hoping all isn't lost just yet... There's no denying my brain isn't built for memorising stuff this way, and my background knowledge leaves a whole lot to be desired, but it's not like they're kicking me out of the training just yet. The question of how much work we'll end up with once the freelancing starts is something else entirely, of course.
I'm avoiding doing my 'homework' tonight by watching the new Poliakoff, Joe's Palace... really not capturing me so far as much as Friends & Crocodiles/Gideon's Daughter did last time. The POV character is too blank to latch on to and the plot hasn't exactly made any concessions to logic so far (a cameo by the Antiques Roadshow?!). I'm hoping the companion piece next week is a bit easier to warm to... Ruth Wilson, Maggie Smith & David Walliams are in that though, so it bodes well...!
They shot a few scenes in a building I temped in once, many moons ago when I was first working up in the City (it's a odd glass thing with huge primary coloured pipes running through, near Moorgate on London Wall, so pretty damn distinctive). Mostly I associate that temp job with strangely depressing things - the first of those major once-a-year blizzards we've had in town now the past few years, and watching it whirl down around on every side from where I was standing in the 8th floor glass-walled lift lobby, and trudging home along Cheapside for the first time ever through these sudden snowdrifts. That would also be when I got sacked for the first time ever (which I pretty much engineered after the first week as the job was so awful) and got home so late after the snow that I missed the last ever ep of Farscape... it's all strangely tied together in my head. And, apparently, I'm rambling now :o)