enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Let's just make this a scent-free event, shall we?

So had I not come home to find two more interview requests in my inbox I would be in a really shitty mood.

Bad, bad day.

Let's start with my boss informing me of a 153-page study that was just released today and that overlaps partially with this monster of a study that I am attempting to do a rush job on. Just what every researcher wants: someone else to beat him or her to the punch.

Actually, it is not so bad. To put it in perspective, this person used less than 20% of the data that I am using (or one year's worth; I have five single years that extend over a decade and that follow specific individuals longitudinally). The emphasis overall is also different, and the selection of individuals by age is much narrower in the other study, too.

The point though is that now I have to go through an additional 153 pages of results to figure out how I *might* need to alter my work; and I'm already pressed for time so this is not welcome.

OK. Enough about the research of doom.

So one of the things that I like about the Canadian Public Service is that serious attempts are made--often pathetic, I'll admit, and undoubtedly grossly inefficient--at the promotion of equity, equality of opportunity, etc., etc. This is why the recruitment and contracting process for government jobs takes such a long time. And I think it's really, really cool that the people who go around my department to collect the recycling, empty the waste bins, etc., are all mentally handicapped people who are being paid good wages.

I like this, that is, until one of these dudes decides that he likes me and won't stop lingering in my office to tell me baaaaad jokes and, well, to stare. (The other guy who does this leaves more quickly, and the conversation is always about exactly the same thing. When I am wearing a skirt and boots he will tell me that I've forgotten to take off my boots. And then I will proceed to him that it's just a style of dress, and so on and so forth. It's cute and short.)

Ah well. Not a big deal.

So the other peculiar thing about working in the government is the emails that one gets on a daily basis about events set up to "holistically enrich" our meagre lives. Like nutrition seminars. And "meet the directors" events. Today's was an invitation to a lecture by a disabled activist in honour of the upcoming International Day of the Disabled. All good. I was highly amused, however, by the request on the invitation that we, "respect our fellow colleagues who have allergies to scent and make this a scent-free event."

I mean, I must tell you that I don't wear scent, for exactly this reason. I like a little bit of scent, noticeable only when one is very close to another person. Strong scent, or a cloud of scent left behind when one walks down the street is truly unpleasant. If I am in a confined space it will rapidly give me a headache. But it strikes me that this scent-free thing is such a marvelous example of the speed at which our ideas about socially appropriate behaviours evolve. When I was a kid my grandfather worked for the Minister of Agriculture, smoking a pipe all the while. They made baldly sexist and crude remarks with great regularity.

I know I had something else to say but I've plain forgotten it.

I stood in line for half an hour at the post office today. Gawd I loathe that particular post office, but my mother sent me a package last week and since I can't take delivery during the day it was shipped to my default postal location. Or not. In spite of the tag declaring that it would be available as of last Thursday, it was not there. And this I was told after waiting in line for a half an hour!

The service and the operation in general there remind me of a trip I took to Jamaica in the 1980s. As with many Caribbean locations still, I imagine, we were dumped out of the plane on the tarmac and went to collect our bags that had also been dumped out into a big pile on the other side of the tarmac.

Oh well. I made it home. And I have a date tonight. I am meeting the friend of friends whom I mentioned yesterday, for a drink at a pub a couple of blocks from my house.

I hope it won't take too long; I already have a headache. But I applaud his desire to meet quickly to ascertain any true interest. I'm all about efficiency. As usual, I'm quite the romantic. :-)

6:36 p.m. - 2006-11-27

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