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Oct. 17th, 2003 08:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inulroToday was the semi-annual trip to a conference centre on the edge of town for the regional cystic fibrosis meeting. I always look forward to these - I get to sit around for a day, somewhere away from the office and my phone, and call it work. And get fed, and stock up on office supplies.
I like medical conferences. They are usually sponsored by drug companies, so you get free stuff and free food. Coming from an academic background, in arts no less, where you're lucky if food & drink are provided at all, this engenders a level of excitement that really never goes away.
The other fun thing about this particular conference centre is that it's inevitably full of men (and only men) in business suits, and we collectively get to be the scruffiest group in the place. It's like still being an academic, but with perks.
I had to beg a lift off the boss, because they always hold these things somewhere miles away from the nearest public transit. That meant I had to attend the end of this morning's x-ray meeting. I intended to sneak in and hide in the back, but the boys insisted on making it an educational experience. Now, my relationship with x-rays is much like my approach to archaeology. I have to take other people's word for it that stuff if actually there, whether it's post hole marks or cysts in the lung, because I really cannot see it. The only learning I took away from that was that staring at an x-ray board makes it blatantly clear how dirty one's glasses are - it wasn't just me, we were all sitting there polishing our lenses.
On the plus side, I got sent to the posh coffee shop for coffees and croissants for the road while the boss brought the car round. Also on the plus side, he'd brought the car down earlier so we didn't have to walk up to the top of the hill to get it. That would have been embarrassing. They know in theory that I can't walk up hills, but I don't like them to see my collapse and gasp for breath.
And on the better news front, at the end of the day I also scaveneged a lift to Cribbs Causeway, the local monument to consumer excess. (And incidentally the reason that the city centre has become a wasteland). Actually, as big shopping malls go it's rather good. I've been in desperate need of new footwear for work, that treads the thin line between comfortable (because contrary to popular belief, I do not spend all day sitting on my butt) and not hideous. I wasn't having much luck in town.
I now have Nice Boots for work. I also will be living on baked beans on toast for the rest of the month.
When you buy boots from whichever posh shoe shop I just did, you have 10 days to change your mind and return them. Do all posh shops do that? Mind you, it's quite a trek to get back out there if I have second thoughts. It is, however, a good option to have when you have 15 seconds to make a decision because your lift is threatening to leave without you.
It was a good thing I only had 20 minutes and was therefore On a Mission, because the whole place was full of Stuff I Might Want to Buy and if I'd had more time I might have tried some of it on and bought it. On the one hand I occasionally feel like I should buy some smarter clothes for work and get sick of looking and feeling like such a slob; on the other hand, it's not like anybody cares if I turn up in the sub-Primark crap that litters the town centre or even my goth stuff. I only stopped wearing my jeans because I got too large for them.
I really must not shop at Whitby.
I like medical conferences. They are usually sponsored by drug companies, so you get free stuff and free food. Coming from an academic background, in arts no less, where you're lucky if food & drink are provided at all, this engenders a level of excitement that really never goes away.
The other fun thing about this particular conference centre is that it's inevitably full of men (and only men) in business suits, and we collectively get to be the scruffiest group in the place. It's like still being an academic, but with perks.
I had to beg a lift off the boss, because they always hold these things somewhere miles away from the nearest public transit. That meant I had to attend the end of this morning's x-ray meeting. I intended to sneak in and hide in the back, but the boys insisted on making it an educational experience. Now, my relationship with x-rays is much like my approach to archaeology. I have to take other people's word for it that stuff if actually there, whether it's post hole marks or cysts in the lung, because I really cannot see it. The only learning I took away from that was that staring at an x-ray board makes it blatantly clear how dirty one's glasses are - it wasn't just me, we were all sitting there polishing our lenses.
On the plus side, I got sent to the posh coffee shop for coffees and croissants for the road while the boss brought the car round. Also on the plus side, he'd brought the car down earlier so we didn't have to walk up to the top of the hill to get it. That would have been embarrassing. They know in theory that I can't walk up hills, but I don't like them to see my collapse and gasp for breath.
And on the better news front, at the end of the day I also scaveneged a lift to Cribbs Causeway, the local monument to consumer excess. (And incidentally the reason that the city centre has become a wasteland). Actually, as big shopping malls go it's rather good. I've been in desperate need of new footwear for work, that treads the thin line between comfortable (because contrary to popular belief, I do not spend all day sitting on my butt) and not hideous. I wasn't having much luck in town.
I now have Nice Boots for work. I also will be living on baked beans on toast for the rest of the month.
When you buy boots from whichever posh shoe shop I just did, you have 10 days to change your mind and return them. Do all posh shops do that? Mind you, it's quite a trek to get back out there if I have second thoughts. It is, however, a good option to have when you have 15 seconds to make a decision because your lift is threatening to leave without you.
It was a good thing I only had 20 minutes and was therefore On a Mission, because the whole place was full of Stuff I Might Want to Buy and if I'd had more time I might have tried some of it on and bought it. On the one hand I occasionally feel like I should buy some smarter clothes for work and get sick of looking and feeling like such a slob; on the other hand, it's not like anybody cares if I turn up in the sub-Primark crap that litters the town centre or even my goth stuff. I only stopped wearing my jeans because I got too large for them.
I really must not shop at Whitby.
