Want Nespresso, BYO Coffee Pods

We got new coffee machines in the office last week. I quickly skimmed through the announcement, only picking up that we had new coffee machines and that we had to bring our own pods. I found it a bit ridiculous. Why were they investing on a new machine and scrimping on the beans? It seemed like the term 'cutting corners' was getting a new meaning altogether. Having never really used the old machine (I hate powdered milk), I decided it was not my place to comment. Someone out there must have thought we deserved something better and got half of what (s)he deserved.

The new machine arrived on the floor below ours and there was a bit of a hula-hoop that I did not quite get. I went back to read the email. If everyone was excited about a machine when they had to bring their own beans, there has got to be something I missed. It was a Nespresso machine! Whoever convinced the powers-that-be surely deserves a medal. 

So, we all went to check it out. There was a little poster that explained how to make your first coffee. Cute. There was a big glass bowl next to the machine for the used pods. The machine is a pretty little thing that makes one coffee per pod (or capsule, as the website calls it). The milk holding containers barely make a coffee or two. You can make all the usual (and more) varieties of coffee with the press of a button. If you are one of those who never tires from too many options, there are 16 flavours or Grands Crus to choose from. At 60c a capsule, i.e. a cuppa, it is cheaper than the $3.50 - $5 coffees most people were getting from the cafes every morning. 

Well, that explained the excitement of the new coffee machine. I watched the grand opening of their store at the mall a few weeks ago and boy, was it flash! It is the new big thing in the coffee world. 

Suddenly something strange is happening all around me. In the last 1 week, I have had at least 3 emails from individuals selling coffee capsules! Everyone was selling Nespresso capsules at a dollar a piece, making a 40% profit. I am speechless. I could not help but wonder if there were more people selling that coffee than drinking it. Why would I pay a dollar for one capsule when I could get a box of 10 for 6? Maybe, they were trying to sell single capsules to coffee newbies or those that wanted to just 'give it a shot'? It is quite the win-win situation, isn't it? When a colleague mentioned that in the team meeting on the first day, I marveled at his ability to turn any situation into a profitable business. Obviously, he is not alone. While he did not actually implement the idea, the others have definitely turned it into a business.

The competition has been worth following. The first email that went out merely mentioned coffee pods being sold for $1, with 4 different Grand Crus being available. Then somebody sent out an email saying they were selling all 16 Grand Crus for the same price. Before long, another email followed, offering coffee-flavoured choccies at 60c each. Whose turn is it next? I wondered for a second if I sold coffee pods for 90c, I would make a profit. Maybe not. People would rather pay a dollar than dig out small change. Who thinks about the extra 40c they have to pay when it is only a dollar? That seems to be the logic used here. 

I do not know if the coffee-pod/capsule businesses are thriving. I have no clue who is leading the competition. What I do realize that all those researches on employee incentives that insist that more money does not mean happiness are bang on the money (no pun intended). Most people would rather overpay  for good coffee than drink the free watery liquid that passes off for coffee. And everyone hates loose change.

I've been putting off trying one myself. Over the next few days, I must give each of the flavours a try. After all, it's a short walk from my desk and I am saving $2 for every dollar I spend on the expensive capsules. With that, I find myself sucked into the abysmal trap of wanting all the fancy things that the Joneses are drinking. Oh well, it is only coffee. I am only going to try it once. Ok, sixteen times. At least. 

The Morning Sun

I lift my face to catch the rays of the morning sun, like a child on the beach trying to catch the spray. It’s a wonderful feeling on a cold Autumn morning. The warmth of the sun chases away the gnawing cold of early dawn. I say to myself, "The sun is here to brighten my day and it is going to be a beautiful one."

When you are sitting down with a cuppa and the mood is lightened by such sentiments, the world becomes a happy place to be in. The black spots on the white sheet that is the mind, become grey and then disappear. Thus armed with a clean slate inside my head, I start to prepare for my day.

I begin by checking the weather forecast for the weekend. I woke up this morning, wanting to lie on the sand and read a book under the sun. A day at the beach seems like a good way to spend this Saturday or Sunday. I am praying for at least one sunny day. Unfortunately, it is not to be. The weather Gods are clearly not fans of mine. After 3 glorious days of sunshine, albeit with a bit of cool wind, the rest of the week and the weekend is expected to be cloudy, with possible showers. Bummer! Well, I will check again on Friday. I do not always rely on the weatherman's prediction for the weekend, this early in the week. In any case, I have a few other things on my list that would cover the weekend, in the event of rain. Now, I need to find something to occupy the weeknights, leading up to a weekend of Paniyiri Greek Festival and a possible day at the coast.

You noticed how I started by planning my weekend first, did you? Yes, I do that a lot. I work my way backwards from where I want to be. A friend of mine would be amused that I would go straight to the bottom of his email first and then start reading it from the top. Why not? Most people do not start off emails with words like 'love' or 'care' but almost everyone signs of their emails with endearing emotions - 'Take care', 'Speak soon', 'Love', 'Hugs & Kisses', etc. Even if it just a happy smiley, it is a happy ending. Unless you were expecting bad news, you can almost always be certain that the best part of the letter is at the bottom of it. On a more serious plane, if I was reading an email at work that expected me to solve a problem, I would still like to start from the bottom of the email trail and gather as much background information I can before I sink my teeth into the real issue. It has worked well for me every single time.

Go on. Try it. Next time you read an email, go to the bottom first and find out whether it is good news or bad. Then start reading from the top. If you are a smart-ass, you will probably try reading the email backwards altogether. That is funny but believe me, it will get you nowhere.

I digress. My weekend planned, I set off to work out what my day should look like. This is easy. I have to block off the time I will be at work and leave the rest of the day for other activities. Being fairly immobile, thanks to a bum knee, the 'other things' category has limited options. The office work sorts itself out by the number of tasks and hand and prioritisation that has been done when the task landed in the mailbox. There! All done and set to go.

All it took was that little burst of sunshine to kick start my day. The glorious morning sun is surely a blessing, no less!

(Dear Sun, I just want you to know that I wish you were not such a late riser these days. You showed up minutes after I woke up, today. I'm just saying...)

(Dear Sun, I'm sorry I wrote that previous line. My morning cuppa was upset for not getting credit for kick-starting my day and all that. All good now)

Down On My Knees

Chicken pox kept me away from school for a month. I was only 6 then and I remember hating it. I'd always been a healthy kid. It felt like I was being punished for never having fallen sick and I was making up for the all earlier years in one shot. I hated missing school more than anything else.

Decades later, the chicken pox had relegated to dark corners of my mind. While I sympathized with others who fell sick or got injured, I stayed away from anything remotely requiring medical attention. How I managed it is beyond me but I took it for granted. I had abused my body with junk food, no food, erratic workouts for years and all I needed to fix myself up was 2 days in bed, recharging. It is amazing how self-healing the human body is.

Cut to 2012.

It all started with a back-ache that I ignored for as long as I could. It was just sleeping on the couch. Or maybe the bad posture at work. It was going to be fine. I just needed to stop doing those things. I would. It went on this way until I landed flat on my back, on the carpet one fine Sunday morning, unable to perform normal physical activities like getting up, sitting or standing without my back complaining. With much reluctance and driven by panic, I saw a doctor. "Weak muscles", he rued. He was happy to prescribe medicines but I brushed it off saying I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to. He wrote me a letter to get a core strength assessment by a physio and handed me a sheet detailing some stretches I could do, to strengthen the lower back muscles.

Once I started the stretches and the back was beginning to feel OK, I forgot all about the doctor and his physio recommendation. I ignored the niggly sensation in my knees for weeks and waved off the protests during my Krav Maga kicks. I continued to ignore it even after I started to feel like I was going to buckle whenever I walked. I should have at least hooked up to the internet to see if it needed attention but I didn't. I was in denial. It was going to be ok. That was until I carried a heavy bag and walked for about 3 kilometres one evening, while on holidays. Soon, the happy vacation turned into a series of stretches, ice-packs, ultrasound and I was pretty much under house-arrest.

By now I had been suffering all sorts of aches for 2 months and I was aware of my weak muscles. The least I could offer my body was a little rest. For someone who has mis-treated the body for over 30 years, it was a concept hard to grasp. Two weeks into the treatment, throwing all caution to the wind, I headed back overseas and started work. Over the next 2 weeks, I was brought down by my knees once again. It was back to square one. Ice-packs, taped knees, ultrasound, rest. The works. Serves me right for not doing the "rest" thing the first time around. Lesson learned. Right?

I'm just back from another horribly expensive physio session (that my insurance barely covers) and feeling better. All thanks to the massage, ultra-sound and knee-taping (ugh) by my Kiwi physio, who told me she had her first physio appointment at the age of 8. The restlessness that comes with feeling slightly more mobile is back. I want to be out and about, doing all the things I would normally be doing. The only thing that is stopping me from caving in, is knowing how crippled I have been over the weekend... after I had started to walk a little just the week before.

The chicken pox phase jumps to the forefront, from the dark hollows of my mind. It's like a headless villain stepping out of the shadows, in a long black cape. Yet again, is this life making me pay for the score and something years of good health I have had? It's been over 3 months since the first signs of the weak muscles appeared and started giving me grief. I can't wait to feel "normal" again!

I feel exactly like I did when I was 6 years old. I was forced to stay in the bedroom so I would not spread the germs around, only being allowed to get out if I needed to use the bathroom. Mum brought me food and water but I was kept away from the outside world. This time, I'm older and the room is a house, but the feeling is all the same. I am counting down minutes to get back to the outside world... to run and to dance... to kick some groin in Krav class... and to grab that elusive P3 patch... and do all those crazy things on my list...

Bring In The New

The company was replacing an old piece of machinery with not a new piece of the same machine but a whole new deal. It meant that the staff who knew the operations of the current machine had to start at the beginning of the learning curve when the new one comes in. Needless to say, there was a fair amount of resistance to the change. The management won the argument, if there ever was one, and the shipment arrived at the door one fine morning.

As production had to go on, the old working systems were kept running while the new one was being installed. It took twice as much space to run the factory this way and slightly more expensive but the deal had been signed. The traders from the supplier's factory arrived with boxes of the various parts of equipment, expecting help from us to configure it according to our needs. Some experienced workers were yanked off the floor to assist with setting up the system. The less experienced staff were left fiddling with running the operations of the shop.

The old men did not want to leave their familiar environment and the young boys, excited about the new toy, were not allowed anywhere near it. "You lack the skills to help with the fitting", they were told. Hanging about the older rusty tools made the young crowd restless while their counterparts poking around with the mass of shiny metal parts upstairs were wavering. For a while, everyone on both floors was an unhappy person. Everyone felt like an apprentice.

In time, people accepted their roles grudgingly and the noise from the two systems banging about became the way of life. Occasionally, one of the newbies downstairs would be called upstairs, to move something here or explain something there and they would go back. The couple of times I went upstairs, I came down charged up.

The big machine came with a lot of little attachments on the side. None of it was free but, for some reason, the management had decided that it would be useful to buy the extra stuff too. As they were fitted, which was rather quick, they were brought downstairs to start operations. They came with the promise to function without any hitches, hence not in need of much attention. In reality, that was not the case and before long, we were juggling too many things on our floor. The people that were upstairs were not coming back.

One day, the area I was working in got called to bring a box back from upstairs. It was acknowledged that it would be heavy and clunky but also came with the promise of easy maintenance and a possible upgrade. We were sceptical but also eager to see what it was like.

The first thing we learned, upon opening the box, was that it was not going to plug into our existing set-up. It had to sit by the side and drone on by itself. Considering that we merely had to keep an eye on it to make sure it was picking up the right materials and thrashing out the stuff that we could sell, we were not too concerned.

The next morning, two technicians and two negotiators were sent to acquire the working knowledge of the new box from the suppliers. The surprises never seemed to end. The training was much harder than we anticipated. As one of our trainers constantly repeated, the devil was in the details. There were more details than we could assimilate each day. While the sellers knew their product very well, they had no idea about what we were doing. Trying to understand their apparatus in our environment was a Herculean task, made harder by the differences between the two parties. We spoke different languages and lived in different cultures. Not literally, of course, but it might as well have been.

We flung balls at them from all sides and they batted as best as they could. A few words were exchanged in frustration, when things didn't go very well. Eventually, the handover was complete and we went back to our respective offices. The new machine was placed in a little corner, eating away resources and churning out objects that we never had time to look at. The marketing guys would pick it up and sort it out. Many days went by before any one of us had a chance to see what was going on there.

This morning, the thing started to splutter and cough, all of us crowded around it, adding our two pennies worth of knowledge from the handover. None of us knew exactly what to do. Within the next couple of hours, shit hit the fan and everyone was yelling at each other. Some bright kids ran to the store to bring the operations manuals. This is just the beginning.

A Poor & Forced Attempt At Recounting My Day

Alert: Poor attempt at writing today. Too many distractions, mentally drained and not well-fed - those are my excuses.

My multi-tasking skills were put to test today. The morning started off pretty simple. I didn't have to pack my lunch box or get my Krav gear in order. All I had to do was shower, grab my bag, my keys and take the train to arrive at work in time. I spent my free 3 hours reading a book. Ah, it was lovely. I knew I could've gone for a run but lying on the couch with a cuppa, reading a sweet Scottish romance novel was more enjoyable.

The book was intriguing (read: the knight without his shining armour was really sexy and the poor maid was finally falling in love with him), so once again I found myself running for the train at the last minute. Yet again, the train arrived seconds after I did. Lucky two days in a row. Howzzat! I arrived at work, hoping to sign in and duck out to grab a quick brekkie at maccas before I started my day. It was a slow day, by the looks of the way it started, and weekend was almost here. 

The moment I stepped in at work, fifty things landed on me at once! Missed calls on my landline, a missing person at the desk next to me and too many emails in the team mailbox. This was going to be a fun day. Not! I could feel it in my bones, even before I switched over from my mailbox to the team's common inbox. From the issues I had been trying to resolve yesterday to the work items to be implemented next week and everything in between (which included a sever production problem), there was a load of work to be done and no other team member. Well, not a worry. How long has it been since I've run on adrenalin? I shook with excitement. This should be good, I think, as I start mentally assigning priorities to the tasks at hand. Tackle them one at a time and all should be well. That's the me of recent times, multi-tasking go to hell. Well, that's what seems to work here. We have all the spare time in the world.

This was not one of those days. My multi-tasking skills were being tested. Bring it on! I'm the queen of multi-tasking. I started working on task 1, when I saw an email that I had to address right away. Re-shuffle priorities. Write email and back to task 1, which was sort of running in the background partly. While I'm doing 1 & 2, someone related to task 3 drops by for an update. Shuffle shuffle. The priorities were clear, that couldn't be changed except they were now 1a, 1b and 1c. Juggle juggle juggle. More people, more emails, phone calls and IMs, it was non-stop.  When finally, I took a moment out to make my own phone call to check on some instructions, my bird had flown the nest. Fortunately, it was headed my way, so I had to wait for it to find it's way back and I was all set.

Multi-tasking can either be simple or complicated, depending on the situation. If I made my priority list & started juggling my tasks in such a manner that I operated on one while I was waiting on the other, it works marvellously. Try aligning my priorities with someone else's and hell happens to my multi-tasking abilities. To complicate it further, chuck a few more people with their own priority lists into the mush. Make sure there are a couple of jokers in there and a dick or three. Get a little adventurous. Bring in managers banging the table and co-workers with secret recipes they won't share. All set.

That's how it was nearly 3 'O' clock before I managed to find my way into the kitchen and stick my lunch box in the microwave. I snuck out to check on something while the food warmed and only remembered the stuff in the oven a good hour later. I had to warm the food again. Shit happens. This time, I waited by the oven. By 5:30, I had eaten and managed to take a loo break. A lot of work had gotten done today. All loose ends were tied. I had crossed off every single item on my tasks and some sub-items that added themselves to the list. I had wiped clean every crumb of work from my table top and was ready to head home. 

The plan for the evening was to spend it in exactly the same way as the morning. Which meant that I had to finish my writing before I left work. So here I am. I managed my last 2 days without any distractions. Today, there have been a few. Multi-tasking never works when I'm writing, so this one's going to be a shit piece. At least I wrote. I'm drained. Maybe I'll buy myself a McFlurry on the way home. I should try something different today but I am drained. My brain cannot process any more data. Thinking is beyond me. Tomorrow will be better. If not, there is always alcohol. 

Failed Lists

When you wake up in the morning and know you have 4 hours to go before the day actually starts, it is supposed to feel good. At 5.10AM this morning, I woke up feeling hungry. A coffee, that's what I needed. Once I've had that cuppa, I would go for a run and then make a list of other things I could do to kill the four hours. The rest of the day would go smoothly, till 5PM, when it was time for some Krav Maga groin kicks. Kick on home after that, pie for dinner and a well-deserved sleep. 

Yes, that would have been nice. What happened instead was that the coffee stretched on for 3 out of the 4 hours, during which I didn't achieve any of the things I mentioned above. I think I checked some emails, watched a few videos, mucked about sniffing into other people's lives on Facebook and checked if my pay had been debited into my bank account. I was on my last $5 last night, when I went to buy a spicy chicken cashew rice that cost me $8.50, so I was on -$3.50 as of this morning. Soon, I was running around the house like a headless chook, packing my lunch, stuffing all sorts of things I might need for the martial arts class in the evening and wondering if I needed just a shower or I had not brushed my teeth yet. In the end, I decided to brush (just in case) and shower. 

I grabbed everything nearest to the door, hoping that it was all the stuff I need to get to work and back home, and ran to the train station fervently hoping that my train was late by however minutes it would take me to get to the train station. I was only halfway to the station, when a train passed by. It was a train in the other direction. Phew! Holding my breath, I ran, knowing fully well that I had missed the last train that would take me to work in time before the morning meeting. As I entered, I heard a train pull in. Yes! My train was late, by 3 minutes. Exactly how late I was to arrive at the train station! What are the odds of that happening? Forgetting my manners, I swiped my card on the machine, even as a young man was staring at the screen after he had swiped his, probably trying to figure out the balance on his card. Then some more running. I was ready to roll down the ramp, if that's what it took to get in that train. Luckily, the QR representative was one of the nicer guys that waits for hapless morning runners with hair flying and shabby clothes, so he waited until I entered the train.  

Normally, I would read a book and most people around me wouldn't even notice. I hadn't noticed anyone notice me to date. Today, I pulled out a book and the nosey old lady sitting in front of me was slyly checking out the title. Damn you, woman! Nobody looks when I'm reading a Lee Child or Paulo Coelho or Matthew Connelly. One of those times, I decide to pick up a short cheesy romance novel in order to tear through a couple of books quickly and make up my reading target for this year and she notices. She smirks. Yeah sure, like you've never read one of those before! That did it. No reading in the train today. The journey seemed endlessly long and I was getting late.

I made it to the meeting - late by 3 minutes - but it started 3 minutes later, so I was in time. What are the chances of that happening twice in the same morning?! Somehow the rest of the day has continued to be a roller coaster ride. I make a list and nothing gets done. I thrash about and hit the mark on one random shot taken in desperation. 

In continuation of the day's trend of things on the list not getting crossed, I missed my Krav classes for the second time this week and I'm kicking myself right now. It would have been better to kick groin and pummel chests in class but this is what I chose. There was no good reason. I just wasn't upto it. 

For the rest of the day, this is the plan. Go home. Read. Eat. Sleep. Can't go wrong there now, can I? I sure hope not!

Ding Dong Wake Up

In an article I was reading recently, the writer talked about how much of precision is involved in a chef's job. He has to come up with a really good dish, as quickly as he can and he cannot afford to make mistakes. He cannot afford to have bad days. He cannot afford to slip up on time or taste. He has to be perfect and efficient every hour of his work. 

That got me thinking. I've always believed that being a computer professional is probably the easiest and least risky job. That's probably why they are available at the rate of a dime a dozen too. You can screw up, get pulled up for it and then you get on with your job. At worst, you lose your job and find another one. The worst you can affect is mucking up a client's figures. Money? Inventory? How harmful can it be? Compare it with the job of doctors who have a patient's life in their hands, builders, even tattoo artists... they have to get it right at first attempt every time. The repercussions are huge and ugly!

Yet, I've noticed how non-computer professionals complain a lot less than the so-called "software developers". It could be because they are in a chosen line of work, unlike the mass of computer techies. 

Stand back and look around you. As the cliche goes, stop to smell the roses. A computer job is probably a lot less precise and stressful than the others. If you disagree, you are probably one of those who take more stress unto themselves than is necessary. If you don't turn up at work tomorrow, the impact is minimal. 

I took a half hour out to make a few phone calls today. Forgot that I was at work, forgot the people around me, forgot the 'issues' I was trying to resolve. There's nothing like chatting up an old friend and exchanging gossips. It is one of the most beautiful experiences of life. Hearing a voice from the good old days and laughing a lot, it blows away the stress of the day like it was nothing. 

A Morning At The Data Centre

When I had to give up my OCD a fair deal, I wondered how I would cope. I could not. I hated it but hell, life never promised to be fair. There are some bits I've tried to cling on to just so I can identify myself when I look in the mirror. That seems to work fine, for the moment.

With so many things changing, it feels like the beginning of a new life. Maybe it is. Do you know what that means? I get to make choices all over again. Who do I want to be? How do I want to live? My first thought was, "Oh shit! I have to start planning all over again" but you gotta do what you gotta do. Sometimes, you find out you actually want this.

It is a bit like shopping. You try on different clothes, someone around you gives you a thumbs up or wrinkles up their nose and you try another one... until you find something that fits you well. Tedious as it may sound, shopping is fun, comfort, bliss. That is exactly how I decided to approach my options. Try them all, I didn't have to just pick one at random, nobody was asking me to. 

I tried working long hours at work - you know, the staying-after-hours-and-trying-to-learn-things routine - but soon realized it wouldn't do. For one, I would get hungry and unless dear DM was around with something to eat, it was hard to concentrate. For another, I would be itching to get out and experience the outside world. It definitely did not help that no one else stayed around at that hour. Hell, this outfit won't fit. 

The next thing was to do 'normal' hours. It was a bit of a worry in the beginning, people around me were hammering away in the background while I was fumbling. I wondered if I should go back and pick up what I had discarded. This is where the friend comes in. The one who does the thumbs up/wrinkle nose, remember? Try it on, pick up accessories to go with it... see if it works. Worked for me, yay! Ah, I am beginning to like this. 

The visit to the data centre last week has left me in a fix again. It is like having a new pair of shoes but not dress to go with it. How hard is that? I know! 

The expectations set to me were clear - a room full of big black boxes. GF added, "The most exciting thing there will be the man-traps". You can imagine, I was not quite looking forward to it. I've seen them on google, what else is there to see? Again, you gotta do what you gotta do. If the boss says "Jump", you ask, "How high?"

The real feeling of seeing storage devices, the circuits, the UNIX machines, the mainframe, tandem boxes, LAN storage - whoever said black boxes were boring? Simply walking past them, listening to the techie explain what cables go where, the colour coding, how it all fits together in the real world had me tingling with excitement. Of course, the man-trap was cool too. Data security took an altogether different meaning. Data took an altogether different meaning. Suddenly all of management's favourite terms like 'save storage', 'save costs' took a new meaning. 

Sitting in an office in the city, beautiful heritage building, lovely views and dummy terminals, I never once wondered or cared where it was all going. The long journey that every keystroke of mine traversed and hit me back at unbelievable speeds is mind-boggling. Knowing that everything I do is being recorded on a machine and stored away somewhere is fascinating as well as freaky. 

Have you ever worked from home? Accessed your local drives or desktop? You might think you are picking up stuff from your PC at your desk in a building in the city. Get over it. All you are doing is looking at images from a storage device hidden away behind layers of security in no man's land. Shared drives, you say? There is no hard drive sitting in one of your offices collecting everything you have stored, it's all out there, in a secret place where big black boxes in a room swallow everything you have ever put in there at some point. Now, that sure explains how data is "restored", doesn't it? 

What was that someone once said? You can never lose data, it's there somewhere. It was meant to be in conjunction with one of our all-time theories of how matter can never be lost in space. 

Back to my shopping anecdote. How does all of this fit into me having mis-matching shoes and dress? I loved looking at black boxes, got goose-bumps looking at circuits and got excited about data. I picked myself a dress that said 'social life, outdoors, excitement'. Now, my shoes are screaming 'data, indoors, work'. Now, what?

Well, for the moment, I guess I will have to go with what I have. Who knows, it may even become the next big thing in fashion! Something like that...

Mo-bike To Mt Coot-Tha

It was one of those hectic days. It is amazing how much paperwork is there to get done, especially around the end of the financial year. I decided that I deserved a nice long ride in the cold wind and we took the mo-bike out for a spin. Gorgeous beast, that one, I must admit. 

For the first time in my life, I wore a closed helmet. And did not choke. Or suffocate. Or panic. Not even when little specks kept hitting my eye every time I opened the vizer or when my helmet kept running into my husband's during conversations. It was too good a ride to notice little peeves, I suppose.

If I thought riding on the road was awesome (everywhere I go, I am by the side of the river, how beautiful is that), the ride up Mt Coot-tha was fabulous. Winded roads, wind in the trees, traffic-free and boy, what a view!! The city-lights looked stunning as we rode all the way to the top. 

The view from the top itself was more beautiful than anything I have seen at night. Brisbane is largely flat, with it's share of hilly suburbs and when standing on the top of Mt Coot-tha at night, with a 180 degree view, it looked like a large crown studded with gem-stones. The coloured lights towards the city added to the glamour. It was freezing and I had not the foresight to wear warm enough clothes. Yet I stood there mesmerized until I could feel my fingers no more. 

As we walked back to the bike, we walked past a little store that said something to the effect of 'It is warm inside, get out of that cold and get in here'. How cute is that, for an advertisement? I had never noticed until I saw those scores and scores of clocks, magnets and other souvenirs that Australia was actually shaped like a boomerang! Is that what the deal with boomerangs is, I wonder! Maybe it's a coincidence... the boomerang had to come from the Aboriginals' basket, hadn't it? 

Of course, I didn't buy anything, I'm no tourist no more (psst: the husband wouldn't let me). We headed back and the ride seemed much shorter. No less fun, though. Cold weather is beautiful when you are cruising on a bike on quiet streets. I can never get enough of marvelling at the weather. I wonder if I'll say the same when I am in Melbourne. 

Scribble Me Crazy

Some years ago, I developed a technique at work, where I could just write down things I needed to work effectively, so that I could clear the clutter off my head. Not only did I not have to worry about remembering things but I could work effortlessly on my bad days because it was all out there, I did not need to rack my brain. I've worked efficiently using that technique for a long time.

Like most workaholics who don't have a life outside of work, I slowly introduced my 'effective work techniques' into my personal life. Unintentionally, of course. Rather unfortunately, this was one of them. Soon, I developed a compulsive need to write down things. Not because I did not want to remember but I felt the urge to write anything I thought was worth remembering. Journals, "pen-friends", blogs, tweets, my choices were endless... I could go anywhere and put down stuff, depending on how much privacy I wanted with the information. Gradually, my mind refused to assimilate matter. It just spit out stuff, like a gum that has lost all it's juiciness after chewing for a while.

Not before long, urge turned into obsession into addiction. I had to write. I met these wonderful people today and listened to some fabulous stories. Now, my hand itches to write those stories, about those stories, about the people. I'm tempted to write about my new experiences. It's not a bad thing, is it? Except that if I sat down to write, I would fill hours and pages without stopping for a week or two. 

When did that happen? What would I do if I were left in a place with wonderful things around me but no laptop, no mobile, no paper or pen? I don't know.

As I hold myself back from spending endless hours online, struggling to get over my urges, I battle with my mind. It spews out memories as if they had an expiry date, I refuse to let it. So far, I've mostly failed but the war rages on. Let's see who will win this one...

The Good Vibes

When I came home this evening, the husband made me a nice hot cuppa with a dash of chocolate. It's great to have an occasional day like that. If I rewind, I find that today is a day of niceties. 

A friend changed his travel plans, just so he could meet me in 3 weeks. When I later apologized for I could not make it, he was real nice about it. And called me to say it might still work out. Thank God for great friends!

RH, backing up our team leader who is on a holiday, brought in a large boxful of doughnuts from Krispy Kreme, "I am your team lead for 3 days, I wanted to do something for you guys". Was already on my nicest-people-I-have-met list, made it to the thoughtful-people list. 

I finally finished the program I've been battling with and managed to complete all my compliance courses. Bravo!

So, inspite of the fact that I paid $10 for a 15 minute national phone call, my allowance has not come through yet, I had an embarrassment marathon and I'm upset with my closest friend, I survived. I suppose this is what they mean when they say it is good to be surrounded by positive energy, it just pushes you through the worst of times.

On a parting note, here is my contribution to some humour in your day. It is not the first time I have heard someone say that google search has taught them more than any school education but this blog on google's societal education is ridiculously hilarious! 

Counting My Blessings

The Kookaburra River Queen - I can never get enough of water and the views. My first river cruise. Wow! 

The weather is getting warmer, it's disappointing. It's too early, come on! Hmm. I wonder if I'll say the same in 3 weeks. I'll cross the bridge when I get to it.

Third week and third team outing. Each one different and special. Like RH said, the precedent has been set, I need something every week now. I could get used to this. No, really, I mean it. I could get used to this. My stomach already grumbles for DM's candies on evenings that he leaves work early.  

"I am happy", I said when I called a friend today. I was just going with the flow, enjoying all good stuff, a streak of stress but hell it feels good to just say it. Work is fantastic. The guys are sweet. Not to mention my friends from the good old days - every one of them celebrating what I am. It was totally worth it. 

Enough counting blessings. Time to go watch an hour of NCIS. Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Ducky, here I come...

Beginner's luck?

I join the organization and within a week, they take me to an Indian restaurant. For someone missing Indian food and wondering if there are any authentic restaurants around, the Punjabi Palace is fantastic. When it's free, nothing like it. Some NZ wine to go with it... white wine... and there begins my affair with wine in Australia. Now I know what people mean when they say wine is 'cheap' in Australia. The beer's fine too, I guess, but I'm not qualified to comment on the quality of alcohol so I won't. I mean... I think the beer's fine, the husband is not happy. In a colleague's words, "Australian beer is barely fit to wash my hands with". Ouch!

Now, the boat cruise. The awesome Kookaburra River Queen. Bloody hell, could I ask for a better team building event? The entire team, all-inclusive, a-ha! So looking forward to it. So is everyone. 

As things fall into place one by one, everything just works itself out. Even before I realize it, I'm planning travels I've been looking forward to, for ages. I'm even enjoying cooking like never before, not to mention the weather. I can't say it often enough, the weather is simply superb! No wonder everyone mentioned the weather when they first heard where I was going. 

What was that Coelho said about the universe conspiring to make things happen?

"When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream"

Mark As Read

Three books this weekend, all different genres. Matthew Reilly's contest (loved it), Nishant Kaushik's romantic chaos (not bad) and Agatha Christie's 13 problems. At this rate, I might just finish the pile of unopened books in my shelf. The thought of something like that happening in the near future excites me! I am trying hard not to remember that it also means I will need to buy new books for my new life in Australia. 

I am one of those people that hate too many unread emails in my mailbox. Unread email means things to get done, work that is incomplete. That nags the life out of me. I just have to read the emails, tie a bow around the task and wind up. Tomorrow is another day. No, I cannot just mark emails as read and attend to the task later. I forget. So, I need the ugly dark coloured email, sneering at me each time I open my mailbox, reminding me of the mammoth list of tasks ahead. I am so used to this routine that on the rare no-email days, I go crazy. I get restless and fidgety. 

As a long-standing member of the OCD club, I have many such fetishes. Do you have any that drive you crazy? Is there something that you must do or you lose your sleep over it? 

Guest Post #8: The Tyranny Of Food

When I did my Guest Post week last month, a couple of my 'guests' took a raincheck. In a way, that was perfect because it was a week for amateurs and first-timers. Gautam is a freelance journalist and writer. Having him post on my blog has just increased my blog value multi-fold. Anything I say here will just be a spoiler, so I'll clear out and let you read on...

If it’s true that a dream job must match your biggest passion, then I should have been a chef. All my other passions ebb and flow, but my love for food never sways.

Food, to me, is love. It is happiness and adventure. And when I travel, it’s one of the most vital aspects of a culture. I don’t believe one can have personal food rules and truly understand other peoples.

However, I carried it too far. My relationship with food was what I’d now describe as “reckless”. I had to have meat for every meal (I rarely had breakfast). I ate out all the time, put away huge portions, and never exercised. I almost never consumed fruit and vegetables.

When you hear that I now ride my bicycle nearly every day, covering several hundred kilometres a month, you’d guess that my eating is very different. It is, but isn’t. I agree wholeheartedly with  the quote “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” The problem in the food-loving circles I inhabit, is that even moderation is perceived as extremism.

Simply wanting a light dinner after a heavy lunch makes me the “fitness freak” who’s denying himself all that’s good in this world. And because eating is a communal event, I become a spoilsport. I’m the guy at the party who won’t drink, making everybody feel self-conscious and judged.

This irritates me because if you’re secure in your eating and drinking, you shouldn’t worry about someone else’s choices. Yet, my new-found moderation constantly gets me barbs or pitying looks or defensiveness. “No I’m not on a diet”, I have to keep explaining. “I eat everything, just that I space out the high-calorie goodies.”

Food writer Michael Pollan, whose book ‘In Defence of Food’ I consider essential reading for anyone who eats, puts it better in another of his books, ‘Food Rules’: “Treat treats as treats. There’s nothing wrong with special occasion foods, as long as every day is not a special occasion.”

And there’s nothing like regular exercise to put all this in perspective. My friends hear of salad dinners and think they’ve lost me. How do I explain, without making them retreat wounded, that when you’re on a 100km bike ride, you don’t dream of braised pork belly and cheeseburgers, but of carrot sticks and apples?

And how do I tell them, without seeming smug and preachy, that exercise doesn’t just bring about weight loss and lowered cholesterol, but that it improves every minute of every day of your life?

Their current attitude to food, identical to mine five years ago, reminds me of the cabbage joke I read in one of those Gyles Brandeth books I used to love. “I hate cabbage,” it went. “Thank God I hate cabbage, because if I liked it, I’d have to eat the stuff.”

Seeing through this self-enforced ridiculousness is like being born again. Being free from the tyranny of food doesn’t mean I love it less. In fact, this new respectful relationship means I love it more. The big difference is that for the first time in my life, I respect my body enough to really care about what I put in it.

Thanks Gautam!

To read more of Gautam's writing, click here. 

Tar Tar Everywhere

So much for all the excitement about tar roads. In an over-enthusiastic moment, the workers have lined the roads end to end. There is no footpath or mud left on the borders of the road anymore. 

Problems I noticed this morning, due to lack of a mud path:

• My Lucky is forced to pee and poop on the tar road. She hates it. Since there is no difference between the edge of the road and the centre, she does not realize it when she plonks herself in the middle of the road sometimes. Dangerous!
• Leaves from the trees fall on the road. Earlier they use to land on the mud paths and eventually decompose. Now, someone has to sweep them up and leave them by the side of the road. The road looks dirty now
• There is no more grass lining the roads. Less green. No more 'garike' for dogs to munch on, to help their digestive issues
• Cars parked on the road-side allow no space for walkers, forcing them to walk on the right side of the car i.e. towards the centre of the road

Minor issues, I guess. We'll eventually get used to all of this. Still, I can't help wishing that people paid more attention to detail and showed more interest in the quality of their work. 

FML

After a week (or more?) of fun and frolic, today was a slightly harrowing day. If it wasn't for all the work that kept me busy, I might have spent that time stressing.

• This morning, the auto I rode to work had a meter that showed almost 8 bucks extra and then I paid him another 7 bucks extra because I did not have "3 rupees change"
• I sat across a table narrating to somebody who knew the story
• This afternoon, I paid an extra 5 bucks to the guy at Subway because he did not have "5 rupees change"
• The sub was smaller than usual and I was still hungry after I ate it. So, I bought a banana milkshake which was excessively sweet and I ended up full but unsatisfied
• After a 4-day wait, I finally procured the data I needed for my testing but I was not allowed to test because someone else's work was "more urgent"
• I missed catching up with someone I badly want to see because the afore-mentioned testing kept me at work till late
• This evening, I went to the cafe on my floor but they had no snacks. Then I went down to the 2nd floor where I bought 3 kinds of chips, all of which was greasy and junk. I was hungry, I ended up feeling pukish
• After I finished testing, I packed up, eager to get home. I was stopped by a colleague who, upon finding that I was moving to Australia, kept me for the next half hour telling me how extremely difficult it was to get a job in Australia and New Zealand and that I had achieved something to be proud of. I knew that already.
• The auto I rode home charged me double the normal fare and dropped me off on the main-road, in the rain. After driving me for 6kms without a meter and charging an exhoribitant, illegal fare, he had the nerve to accuse me of cheating because I asked him to ride till my house. Which he did not. I hope he has an accident that'll cost him 10 times what I paid. 
• I called my friend who was watching a movie I sent him some time ago. He slept through the movie, most likely missed the part I wanted him to watch and when I asked him what the movie was about, he said "a boy and a girl". All Indian movies are about "a boy and a girl"
• I was desperately thirsty, so I kept a bottle of coke outside the fridge, intending to warm it a bit. My husband came home and hid the bottle. I was desperately thirsty. Now, I'm thirsty and annoyed too.

 Oh well, I guess it was not all bad. Let's see if I can come up with a few bright moments in my day. Umm...

• I pinged someone to say she was free to gossip about me now that the secret of my new job was out. I think I might have made her day
• My former boss buzzed me to apologize and wish me well with my new job, said he was not ignoring me, just busy and hence the delayed responses to my messages. I told him I knew that he would never ignore me. We both smiled.
• I spent an hour giving gyan to a colleague of mine. It was my opportunity to impart all that I've learnt in my career of 7 years and share all the gyan that I have received from my gurus. 
• I finally finished testing what I have been stuck with for the last 1 week, as I had to wait on the other boys in my team
• Mumbai Indians are at 77-4 after 9.3 overs. There is a ray of hope that we a.k.a RCB a.k.a Royal Challengers Bangalore may win after all. As I said, we may not be on home-ground but we thought we would be and we were mentally prepared to win. Do not forget, we have KP.

That took a lot, and I really mean a lot, of thinking. Time for my dinner. 

My mum has mixed my rice & curry, served it in a bowl (which she told me was the bowl in which we mix Lucky's food) and added sides of spinach and cabbage in a small plate. She rarely ever does this for me. Now I'm stressing over her actions. I need to know why she did it today, when I did not even ask to be served. In fact, why did she insist on it? 

Oh damn, can't the day get over already?

My Vote Counts

I cried for new shoes until I saw a man without a pair. Somebody said something on those lines, many many years ago. I read that in a book, as a child, and it stuck in my head ever since. As if I was not inhibited enough, the sentence rang in my head whenever I wanted something. I asked my parents for less, for I was not sure they could afford it and I told myself that if I could live without it, it was probably not something I should cry for. 

Today, my husband gave away an expensive pair of shoes, which he had worn only a couple of times, to the labourers who tarred the streets in front of our apartment. The boys work in the hot sun, hands and feet blackened with the grime and tar they handle. Yet, they obliged the whims of every house-owner on the street and toiled to spread the tar neatly wherever they were requested to re-work. The charity was well-deserved.

Last night, I went to a friend's wedding with a couple of girlfriends. I love my outings with these girlfriends. A motley crowd we are, we have so much fun. Lots of laughter, complaining about bad traffic and the state of affairs in the state formed part of our conversation. One of the things we discussed was the decreasing quality of work everywhere. Flyovers being constructed for years on end, the Metro rail project repeatedly in the news for wrong reasons (constructions come crashing down on people & cars on the streets, poor quality work, stopped work, endless years of work, etc) and the recent failure of the cryogenic engine in ISRO's latest GSLV launch. So many instances of shoddy work. 

Admittedly, the cryogenic engine construction that took 15 years is complex work. It cannot have been easy to create something indigenous to put in space and expect it to go right the first time. As the ISRO spokesman said, the US and Japan failed in their debut attempts too. That does not undermine the fact that 330 crore rupees were spent on this project that took minutes to fail. With technology getting better everyday and science making progress like nobody's business, why do flyovers and other road constructions fail every other week?

While we were feeling sorry about the state of affairs, I woke up this morning to a ray of hope. Loud noise right outside my house drew us to our balconies. We found government labourers toiling away in the hot sun. Anything that is 'government office' straight away implies callous attitudes of workers and indifference to the quality of work. It was a pleasant surprise to see the level of attention the labourers worked with. The process involved a big machine pouring gravel mixed with tar and other ingredients on the road, a bunch of workers manually pouring the gravel in areas that were missed, another few guys spreading out the tar evenly, another big machine levelling the roads with a heavy drum that rolled over the tarred road. I found the labourers paying so much attention to detail that it surprised me! They looked for irregularities on the roads and poured gravel repeatedly, they ensured that the gravel was lined neatly on the road and off the stoned pavements, they manually flattened the gravel while the machine did it's job, they kept going back and forth until it looked fine. 

While the residents looked on, occasionally directing the labourers  to level here, pour some gravel there, the watchman's wife grabbed a broom and started sweeping the excess off the pavements back to the road. It was a collective effort of workers who were not worried about whether they enjoyed their work or not. They were not worried about the heat or hard work. If they were, they did not show it or let that stop them from doing things right. 

They were tipped for their extra efforts, of course. Some of our neighbours and we gave away shoes that we no longer wore but were still in good condition. It was heartening to watch the so-called government employees do a neat job and to see that there were people who appreciated such efforts. The world is a nice place, there are nice people. So, why do we let the bad-asses rule? Why do we 'adjust' ourselves to the ill-effects from the illegal acts of the wrong-doers? 

I have a colleague who prefers to take "shortcuts" and get everything done using wrong methods. He has a callous attitude and his excuse is "This is India, this is how we work". How untrue! Why do we let such people get away with what they do? All it took for me to shut him up last time was to say, "I am an Indian too and I don't work your way". Such a pity that the bad are so confident and take lead while the nicer ones choose to remain inconspicuous. 

To all those people who whine about the government but refuse to vote, to all those people who refuse to vote claiming that this is not their home-state (so why do you expect the state you are currently in, to cater to your needs?), to all those people who think their vote does not count, I want to ask: "How would you know whether your vote counts, if you never voted?". What gives them the right to expect anything from the government if they never made a choice? This year, I did not vote for a party that I usually do because I was put off by one of my neighbours who has a bad attitude (especially towards my dog) and he belonged to that party. I voted for someone else. He won. Now, we have roads where I live. I'd like to think my vote counted. 

A Dream Job

When I first joined the IT world, I told myself, I'd work for a few years (initially it was 5, then it became 10) and retire. I was not sure what I wanted to do if I retired but I wanted to do something else. This was even before I started doing something!

As years of code-development, software-design and testing grew on me, I decided that there was no way I could quit. I would go crazy if I had to spend a day not doing what I was doing. I can't say I have always had the world's best work environment but I have always loved my work. Almost always. I would joke on my days of frustration and tension that I "wanted to quit my job and become a housewife" as if that was a terrible punishment for me.

Then came the phase when I wanted to take a career break. I wanted to break from doing what I loved doing and do something else I loved doing. In a better environment, hopefully. When people around me heard this, some just shook their head in hopelessness, some were alarmed, some agreed it sounded good (deep inside, I bet they were praying I'll change my mind). In short, it was not something that excited anyone as much as it excited me. Slowly, it appeared that  would change my mind too and decide to keep my job, my money and the financial independence that came with it. That's when I met an old friend of mine who tells me she has done exactly that! Quit the Corporate World. Not her job, but the industry itself. A pang of envy struck me. I started getting excited about the concept of career break again...

Then came this incredible job offer. Advice, threats, push, shove, yell, explain and numerous discussions later, I decided that I would take it. When we were in college, everyone had a "dream job" in mind. I never did. I was so under-confident that my dream job was really sitting behind the reception counter of some organization and reading a book everyday, while attending to customers. It wasn't a dream I enjoyed but I told myself that some job was better than no job. Once I got a job in IT, I told myself that my dream job was probably something at Infosys but a couple of failed, intimidating interviews, long, hungry waits and days wasted in stress later, I now remember Infy as a place I do not want to interview with anymore.

As a kid in school, I used to have a distant dream of travelling to various parts of the world. Australia topped the list, then came Europe, New York and so on. Rome was another one of my favourites. Of course, after the first 3 or 4, the rest were just names I'd heard from various people or read in books.

So, there came this incredible job offer. If I knew what I wanted to do in my career and I had a dream job, some of it might have been like this. Of course, a real dream offer would have been to be able to work with the people I love working with so much. Ah, how much I regret not being able to join them! Worse, when I hear from my friends who have the opportunity to try are wavering. Of course, they have a different set of priorities. 

Back to my new job. I am usually one of those people who do not care to keep such things a secret. Too many burnt fingers, too many stab-wounds in my back and this time, I am finding it hard to share. As someone said me yesterday, eventually I will and then it won't matter. In the meanwhile, while the wait is on for some, some others are celebrating with me...

Selfish Or Foolish?

Another win for the Royal Challengers Bangalore! Starting off as the underdogs in the first IPL, with a fair deal of growling by the king of good times, Vijay Mallya, firing a player or two, Dravid ousted from captaincy, the RCB team has emerged to the second position in the points table in IPL3. The first, of course, is our Master Blaster Sachin Tendulkar's team, the Mumbai Indians. 

In last year's IPL, Jacques Kallis and Ross Taylor were the names I constantly heard. This year, it's been Uthappa in every game. He's been the hulk flinging the ball left, right and centre, with an amazing show of strength. Macho! Watching him and Kevin Pieterson play in positions 3 and 4 was a treat for me, as an RCB supporter today. Pieterson was simply superb. Standing tall and lean, this was one guy worth watching. And I don't mean just his game today. LOL. Then, Uthappa made way for Virat Kohli. 

This blog is dedicated to Virat Kohli's moment of dilemma. Both Kohli and KP were on the same side of the crease, KP taking a run. It was a split second decision for Kohli. Looking at the way KP was making the ball fly, should he have stepped up and gotten himself run-out? Instead, he stood his ground and let KP go. Was that selfish of him or simply foolishness? 

Selfish? What did he want? Some more batting time? We did that as kids, refusing to 'get out'. How much time? Surely, not the 6 and odd overs? Foolish? With 16 runs to go and 39 balls, there was really not much he could have achieved. Even at a couple of sixes or 4 fours, at worst, he would just be another name, in front of KP's knocks. KP appeared furious and rightly so. He could have finished the match for us in less than another over, given the game he was playing. It was a needless loss. 

What came of it? Four runs later (not sure if Taylor got them or Kohli did), Kohli was gone. An easily forgettable few minutes and 14 runs later, the man who refused to let KP stay, was gone.

I'm listening to the post-match analysis on TV. Former cricketers Akash Chopra and Anjum Chopra (captain of the Indian Women's Cricket team) insist that Kohli was right. Their argument is that Kohli did not call for the run and KP being the senior should have gracefully bowed out. Anjum says that we were in a good winning position and that KP need not have taken the chance and run, there was no need to rush. They end by saying what I hoped no one would say but was sure someone would - In the end, we won, so whatever happened does not matter

To me it was not about winning. It was not about whether KP should have let go because he was the senior. Maybe the Chopras were right about not having to rush to make runs and that he should not have run when Kohli did not call for it. That is not my point of focus here. It is about the attitude. Was KP wrong in getting annoyed at being let go, when he was playing so well? Was Kohli wrong in making a decision to stay? In KP's place, I would feel the same way. If I'm doing exceptionally well, I want to be allowed to keep going. To nip me off is frustrating. In Kohli's place, I would have let myself go, for someone who was already doing an awesome job. Either way, I do not support what really happened in the end. The winning would have happened anyway. RCB was destined to win. RR had boys gliding and swooping seconds after the ball passed them by.

It reminded me of some people I've met in the corporate world. It is hardly about their performance or that of others'. Hikes, bonuses, promotions and self-advertisement seem to be their focus. If somebody else delivered a high quality product and they were part of the team, they would happily take a large chunk of credit for the work. Where do they go, in the end? How are they able to sleep at night? I could never understand that...