One of…
If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!
It’s been one of those weeks where everything’s happened at once. Or everything’s needed to happen at once, to be more accurate, but hasn’t always quite done so.
So, Monday morning was another batch of unpacking. This time upstairs on the third floor. If I look out of my window I can see the London Eye slowly turning on the banks of the Thames. If I peer to the left I can see the roof of the British Museum. Not a bad seat, and within spitting distance of the kitchen, which is a good thing.
I made the mistake of mentioning it in my profile on the end of the editorial I wrote for the new issue of the magazine:
Nik Rawlinson is the editor. This week he’s been mostly packing boxes ready for MacUser’s move to the sparkly third floor. Send all bubble wrap this way.
I’ve had about a dozen emails from readers saying they hoped the move went well, and yesterday, a call from one of those strange people who say both their names, along with a Mr. You always know what those calls are going to turn out like.
‘Hello, I’m Mr James Johnson,’ he said (I think that was his name). ‘I just wanted to ask how large the third floor was.’
‘Oh, well, quite large,’ I said, wondering why he wanted to know. Someone later suggested he may have been trying to work out how many people would be there and how much gas he’d need to knock us all out Pussy Galore stylee. I told him it was bigger than the last floor we were on.
‘Hmmm…’ he said. ‘And have they put you near any PC magazines.’
‘Yes, we’re sharing the floor with them.’
‘Well I hope they’re close enough for you to throw paper balls at them.’
And with that he hung up.
An hour later, we get an email from a reader who spotted Chris of the Phin’s name further on in the issue and wondered whether it was his mum whose chest he used to stare at when she taught him at school:
I was completely in love with her. However she hated me and kept giving me the belt for talking to Sandra Brown and probably for ogling her, your mother’s, chest (sorry to be so indiscrete about your mother).
Chris of the Phin has the rest of the story (and his mum’s reply) here.
Which brings us to today; a day full of spreadsheets and budgets, and fiddling around with the design of the cover, the latter of which was far more fun than the former.
Oh, and an email reminding me that Press Gazette wants to publish a week of my diary next week and that they need the entries by 2pm sharp tomorrow afternoon. For the first - and probably last time ever - it looks like this blog is going to come in very handy indeed.
If you liked that post, then try these...
Back from Morocco on May 1st, 2008
The Berlin Airlift on August 25th, 2001
Writing, writing, writing on March 9th, 2008
Wombling free on July 17th, 2004
City no more on May 17th, 2002
September 16th, 2004 at 4:53 pm
Good to know the move went well, and that you managed to blag a desk with a decent view. However, you’re not fooling anyone with the “Send all bubble wrap this way” line