It’s Sod’s law; you wait patiently for a bus, any bus to arrive. This is a popular route and usually means you’ll be lucky and will manage to hop on a bus within minutes. But none comes. As the time passes, you slouch on the bench, waiting, waiting, and waiting. Through pure boredom, you fiddle your mobile and start to delete messages and even flick through the games option. Suddenly, three damned buses arrive in a convoy. Well in this case, four buses actually, but three double decker buses have a more rhyming tune.
Sod’s law has an acute correlation to the dating theory.
Monday mornings are my greatest dread. I simply detest Mondays. I open all my accounts on the net before opening my Outlook Express. Yesterday (Monday) even played 1 hour of online poker, drank 3 cups of tea and smoked 3 mini ciggies before clicking on the horrid tawny clock icon which represents OE. To my complete delight, there were three junk mails (marketing) which I deleted, one email from my agent in Vietnam to inform me that my shipment will be delayed due to production problems (nothing new there), one email from Raja Pack (business packaging supplier) to inform that imputing my VAT number into my online account is not possible (this is becoming a joke (see HM Revenue & Customs post)). Thankfully there were no emails for any payment claims or complaints from clients about delays to their orders.
The other two emails were bemusing; Franz (Austrian client) confirms his order and at the end of the email writes. “Hope you are well. My thoughts are often with you!” Franz has desperately attempted have a one to one dinner with me when I’m in Paris for the exhibitions. Somehow, I’ve always managed to make plausible excuses. The next trade fair is in January and he's setting up for another attempt. So, I’m just going to ignore the last sentence of his email and will keep things professionally cordial.
The other email was a link from my business Facebook account. Jerome, has thee French - Oriental fusion restaurants in the most exclusive parts of London, asked me if I could come to lunch in the Kensington restaurant to discuss new design of fine bone china serving pieces he wants for next year. He had bought bone chopsticks and seashell chopstick rests two years ago, but we have deduced that these products are too delicate for restaurants. My bone china collection on the other hand would be perfect for restaurants. Technically very difficult to make as there are two textures, bisque on the outside and gloss in the inside, containing 50% real bone ash as opposed to the chemical ash. I replied to his email informing him that my supplier in the Philippines has major technical problems with the glaze and until the problem is resolved we cannot supply or develop any other designs. He replied back and insisted that I should come in anyway. I politely answered, suggesting perhaps I will come to one of the monthly champagne evenings he holds. A clever tactic, where I'll be just a wall flower amongst the sea of Sloanes.
Dominic has been logging in his Skype account recently. I met Dominic online last year, but we’ve never met. He’s the sterotypical guy I would go for; a rock-n-roller, arse kicking producer who knows the difference between Latour and Lambrusco... and probably owns a vintage Harley. He suggested that we meet for brunch; dim sum in Soho. What’s with me and dim sum of late?
So what’s happening? Am I emitting telepathic pheromones to announce my availability? A few months ago, I would have been happy to have hitched a ride on any of these buses. Thanks guys, but, I’ve already booked a Land Rover to go fungi hunting in the woods of Richmond this weekend.
Sod’s law has an acute correlation to the dating theory.
Monday mornings are my greatest dread. I simply detest Mondays. I open all my accounts on the net before opening my Outlook Express. Yesterday (Monday) even played 1 hour of online poker, drank 3 cups of tea and smoked 3 mini ciggies before clicking on the horrid tawny clock icon which represents OE. To my complete delight, there were three junk mails (marketing) which I deleted, one email from my agent in Vietnam to inform me that my shipment will be delayed due to production problems (nothing new there), one email from Raja Pack (business packaging supplier) to inform that imputing my VAT number into my online account is not possible (this is becoming a joke (see HM Revenue & Customs post)). Thankfully there were no emails for any payment claims or complaints from clients about delays to their orders.
The other two emails were bemusing; Franz (Austrian client) confirms his order and at the end of the email writes. “Hope you are well. My thoughts are often with you!” Franz has desperately attempted have a one to one dinner with me when I’m in Paris for the exhibitions. Somehow, I’ve always managed to make plausible excuses. The next trade fair is in January and he's setting up for another attempt. So, I’m just going to ignore the last sentence of his email and will keep things professionally cordial.
The other email was a link from my business Facebook account. Jerome, has thee French - Oriental fusion restaurants in the most exclusive parts of London, asked me if I could come to lunch in the Kensington restaurant to discuss new design of fine bone china serving pieces he wants for next year. He had bought bone chopsticks and seashell chopstick rests two years ago, but we have deduced that these products are too delicate for restaurants. My bone china collection on the other hand would be perfect for restaurants. Technically very difficult to make as there are two textures, bisque on the outside and gloss in the inside, containing 50% real bone ash as opposed to the chemical ash. I replied to his email informing him that my supplier in the Philippines has major technical problems with the glaze and until the problem is resolved we cannot supply or develop any other designs. He replied back and insisted that I should come in anyway. I politely answered, suggesting perhaps I will come to one of the monthly champagne evenings he holds. A clever tactic, where I'll be just a wall flower amongst the sea of Sloanes.
Dominic has been logging in his Skype account recently. I met Dominic online last year, but we’ve never met. He’s the sterotypical guy I would go for; a rock-n-roller, arse kicking producer who knows the difference between Latour and Lambrusco... and probably owns a vintage Harley. He suggested that we meet for brunch; dim sum in Soho. What’s with me and dim sum of late?
So what’s happening? Am I emitting telepathic pheromones to announce my availability? A few months ago, I would have been happy to have hitched a ride on any of these buses. Thanks guys, but, I’ve already booked a Land Rover to go fungi hunting in the woods of Richmond this weekend.
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