Back in the saddle again

The alarm went off at 6:45am this morning, which is never the most pleasant start to the working week. That’s what this week is – my first back at work after over a month off. It’s time to start earning my keep again and I’ve been looking forward to this, just not the alarm call.

It’s been a frustrating month to take off. Normally August is dead for news but in the space of four weeks Steve Jobs has resigned, Google’s seemingly gone mad and bought Motorola and there have been a host of other stories that have had my fingers itching to hit a keyboard. It’s going to be good to get back into the swing of things.

That said it’s always a little scary. What if I’ve forgotten how to do it, or if the stories are crap, or if I’m just not good enough? I know in my heart that these are foolish concerns, but the black dog that prowls the back of my central cortex still barks from time to time and he’s a persistent beast. One day I’ll get him put down, but he’s an elusive wraith and slips his muzzle once in a blue moon.

As it turns out he was back in the doghouse pretty early on. Once I’d got a cup of tea in me, found out where the kitchen and toilet was and settled down to build a newslist it all came back, as 20 years of training kicked in. Hammered out a few stories, got to know everyone a little better and before I knew it the day was done. I suspect I’m going to like this job a lot – it’s a good crew in the office and the editorial style is nice and snarky.

In the evening there was another treat, as an old friend was in town for a catch-up. He and his wife are doing a road trip down the West Coast and we went out for a drink, an excellent Chinese at the House of Nanking (yes, it’s a tourist trap but it’s one of the few good places to eat in Chinatown proper) and then a few more drinks for the road. S has been working in the Middle East for the last four years and needed to make up for lost time – or at least it’s as good an excuse as any.

Last day

A very weird day today, my last at my current employers. As is traditional on Fridays we did a Top 10, although for dating reasons it’s going to be published at the end of the month.

I don’t leave jobs often, and the last day is always awkward. Actually, my last couple have been very drunken affairs with very little work done, but as I’m the boss over here I have to set an example. Plus Friday is the busiest day of the week – those Top 10 lists don’t write themselves.

The Top 10s started as a bit of fun nearly three years ago, and were inspired by a night at the pub and bad film scripting. We were looking for some non-news content to write and had been discussing ideas. We decamped to a pub to discuss things further and left the matter unresolved, although my colleague did mention that a Top 10 could be fun.

That night I got home to find the house empty of both housemates and food, so ordered in a Hunan beef delivery and settled down to see what was on the TV. Very little as it turned out – it’s remarkable how anyone can produce 300 channels of unrelenting garbage. It’s not just a US thing, digital TV has bought the same delights to British shores.

There’s a fundamental limit to the amount of good programs out there in my opinion. There are only a few Dennis Potters in the world and much of the content of channels is either repeats or really duff stuff. But remote controls are built for this, and you can cycle easily through channels until you find something bearable.

That night it was Jurassic Park, which I caught half way through. It’s scary to think that at the time Jurassic Park was 16 years old. I went to see that on a date when it first came out and if I’d have got lucky (unlikely considering my choice of romantic film) and been careless the offspring could vote by now. Such glimpses of other lives are depressingly common these days.

As I munched through hot beef and rice the film got to my favourite line, the infamous UNIX quote. Synapses fired and the concept of a Top 10 worst technology snafus in film came to mind. The next day we did the first of what became a Friday ritual, and possibly the most popular stories on the site. They’ve grown from about 1,500 words to over 6,000 on occasion, and our arguments have drawn attention during the traditional pre-list meeting at Morty’s.

Now it’s over. M’s gone clubbing and I’m left with a bottle of good wine, Justin Currie playing in the background and an editing task to get done. It’s a bit different from this stage of the night at my last leaving do – back then I was staggering around Soho with a whiskey in hand, trying desperately not to make a final fling at a colleague. I suspect tonight is an improvement.

Back to work

It’s always fun to come back to work after a break. The Chinese apparently have a saying that if you find a job you love you’ll never work a day again in your life. It’s true in this job – well almost at least.

On the moving front things should be sorted out by the end of next week. There’s some final contract negotiations to be sorted out but that shouldn’t take too long. Dealing with an employer is a tricky business; even if you’re getting something you want you need to negotiate hard, because next time you might not be in that position.

Anyway, the current state of play is I have a meeting with the bosses on Monday to hammer out the last details and then the 30 day clock starts. Personally, I can’t wait.