It’s half past seven in the morning. I’m at Harlow Town Station waiting for a coach to take me to the second day of this conference, out of town in a secure site. I drove here and parked in a council estate courtesy of Just Park. Often self determining is easier than the admin involved with asking a big company if I can get a permit to park on site. Nobody knows who to talk to and you send loads of emails and end up back where you started. I tend not to bother these days. They’ll refund the £7.00 I’ve paid.
Driving in to Harlow was depressing. Clearly the people of this town are not optimistic about the England vs Argentina match tonight. England flags all at half mast line the streets on the way in, mostly looking tattered and unpleasant. I’m a touch more optimistic than whichever pessimist put those filthy pennants up. I reckon I’m gonna watch tonight’s match at home after work like normal people. With a can of alcohol free Heineken.
Before the tournament I made a few bets to keep myself interested. One of them was the inevitable England to win bet, and another was Lionel Messi for Golden Boot, which is most goals scored. I got good odds because he’s old. He’ll only lose to an England player now if he loses. So hopefully it’s win win tonight for me.
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I’m half an hour early at Harlow. The company have laid on a coach with very specific timings and to be honest I don’t think they’ve thought this through. Loads of young people travelling somewhere unfamiliar first thing in the morning? They’re really starting the day with an aptitude test. I have a feeling someone will be doing shuttle runs throughout the morning, but it’s not my responsibility to make these calls so I’ll just be ready and let things play out. “The coach leaves at 8:30 prompt” says the email. Yeah pull the other one. Whoever wrote that email didn’t put train arrival times / departure times from London hubs to meet it etc. Whoever wrote that email thinks they wrote it to adults. Not inner city teenagers going to the boondocks for the first time. I’m trying to imagine the depressed England fan who put up those half mast flags. I picture him dead eyed and cheeks flushed, speaking in uncertain certainties. I don’t think we’d be friends. Harlow. Here we go.
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Well. That happened. It was a fun day. Bus left twenty minutes late with only 4 no shows and two people who had no passport and wouldn’t have been allowed into the secure facility. I realised a little late that I’d be presenting two more PowerPoints over the course of the day. Three in a row is too much for anyone so I pretty much binned one and did a workshop instead which I know is allowed because they understand my offering at this company now and still somehow seek it out.
A beautiful day to be inside all day. I’m happy to catch the late afternoon light. Time to get back home, sharpen up my Caius Lucius lines for tomorrow and change my head again. Tech begone! That was a flood.
