Facilitators of Vitreous Hips,
The day began hesitantly, winter depression meant that I rose 30 minutes after the alarm sounded. Efficiency over Cheerios and tea meant that it was not long before I was scraping ice from my windscreen. It was my least favourite type of windscreen ice – small, hard beads. The temperature wasn’t as low as it has been in previous weeks but even so, the dampness made it feel worse.
A few weeks ago on a Saturday night, I stood outside at -3oC whilst the fire brigade dealt with an explosion caused by my bold colleague in the laborato
ry. I was putting in some extra hours of a Saturday afternoon doing paperwork and menial maintenance tasks on our vacuum chamber. I was surprised to be joined by anyone on a Saturday, let alone someone who was keen to do some experiments. He went to the lab next door supposedly to recrystallise (purify) some of his new chemical, he even asked me which solvent I would recommend. A while later, I heard a bang, I thought I’d pop next door and see if all was okay; I was confronted with a yellow cloud and billowing black smoke. My colleague declared an evacuation, apparently recrystallisation was impossible and sublimation in a furnace was the fateful method of purification chosen, and although we knew the fire alarm would sound, we tried our best, via a telephone plea, to prevent them paying us a visit. They cordoned off the area, my car keys and jacket were trapped inside the building and I was deployed on point. The fire brigade didn’t know how to deal with the situation in the lab, it was an unknown and new chemical that my colleague had made and as such they had no knowledge of how to neutralise the threat (this was not the acid or alkali they were hoping for). As far as I was concerned, once the yellow cloud and smoke had dispersed, there might have been some powder on surfaces that would have needed wiping up. Eventually, the fire brigade agreed, my bold colleague was then followed to the epicentre by a fireman in a chemical protection suit – he was there to drag my colleague out if any poisonous gas was still present to floor him. The rest of the firemen and I watched from the window to see if he collapsed. It was quite surreal, I can only imagine how I would feel if we were to watch them suffer any ill fate from the other side of a pane of glass. Thankfully, it passed without incident and all that was left over was an investigation by the department.
After the windscreen was clear, I joined what I think of as the ‘Trulli train’. A procession of commuters head to town for 0900hrs, they arrive on time every day, but they drive slowly and frustrate. I’ve named this phenomenon after Jarno Trulli, the one-stopping, heavy full load-carrying F1 driver who holds everyone up. Empirical evidence suggests 5 cars need to be overtaken in order to drive at one’s own pace.
I was a little worried by the prospect of a meeting with my group leader in the afternoon and it weighed on my mind as I ploughed through the mass of analysis that needs to be carried out on my computer. I needn’t have worried; his enthusiasm for our projects is infectious.
Later, I made the mistake of rousing my afore-mentioned colleague to ask him a question about a computer programme. Talking quietly in our studious office is acceptable, shouting is not and I was quite embarrassed as he barracked back obvious information, I began to regret asking and it was plain to see and hear for those around, I lost count of the amount of times I started, ‘Yes, I accept that, but…’ and I wandered off without my question ever being answered, if I did not want to regain the lost peace in the office, I would have adopted more Jeremy Paxman-like tactics. When he left the room, I apologised to everyone else. An hour later, he returned and in the interim, he had been put in his place over the issue I tried to raise with him, it only remained for me to add the final blow by making a cutting remark over his shouting. I was reminded of an excellent song by Grafiti called What is the Problem, this was a Mark & Lard Record of the Week, it features the words, ‘I can’t win ‘cause you shout louder.’
We settled back to equilibrium and parted company for the evening.
A few weeks ago on a Saturday night, I stood outside at -3oC whilst the fire brigade dealt with an explosion caused by my bold colleague in the laborato
ry. I was putting in some extra hours of a Saturday afternoon doing paperwork and menial maintenance tasks on our vacuum chamber. I was surprised to be joined by anyone on a Saturday, let alone someone who was keen to do some experiments. He went to the lab next door supposedly to recrystallise (purify) some of his new chemical, he even asked me which solvent I would recommend. A while later, I heard a bang, I thought I’d pop next door and see if all was okay; I was confronted with a yellow cloud and billowing black smoke. My colleague declared an evacuation, apparently recrystallisation was impossible and sublimation in a furnace was the fateful method of purification chosen, and although we knew the fire alarm would sound, we tried our best, via a telephone plea, to prevent them paying us a visit. They cordoned off the area, my car keys and jacket were trapped inside the building and I was deployed on point. The fire brigade didn’t know how to deal with the situation in the lab, it was an unknown and new chemical that my colleague had made and as such they had no knowledge of how to neutralise the threat (this was not the acid or alkali they were hoping for). As far as I was concerned, once the yellow cloud and smoke had dispersed, there might have been some powder on surfaces that would have needed wiping up. Eventually, the fire brigade agreed, my bold colleague was then followed to the epicentre by a fireman in a chemical protection suit – he was there to drag my colleague out if any poisonous gas was still present to floor him. The rest of the firemen and I watched from the window to see if he collapsed. It was quite surreal, I can only imagine how I would feel if we were to watch them suffer any ill fate from the other side of a pane of glass. Thankfully, it passed without incident and all that was left over was an investigation by the department.After the windscreen was clear, I joined what I think of as the ‘Trulli train’. A procession of commuters head to town for 0900hrs, they arrive on time every day, but they drive slowly and frustrate. I’ve named this phenomenon after Jarno Trulli, the one-stopping, heavy full load-carrying F1 driver who holds everyone up. Empirical evidence suggests 5 cars need to be overtaken in order to drive at one’s own pace.
I was a little worried by the prospect of a meeting with my group leader in the afternoon and it weighed on my mind as I ploughed through the mass of analysis that needs to be carried out on my computer. I needn’t have worried; his enthusiasm for our projects is infectious.
Later, I made the mistake of rousing my afore-mentioned colleague to ask him a question about a computer programme. Talking quietly in our studious office is acceptable, shouting is not and I was quite embarrassed as he barracked back obvious information, I began to regret asking and it was plain to see and hear for those around, I lost count of the amount of times I started, ‘Yes, I accept that, but…’ and I wandered off without my question ever being answered, if I did not want to regain the lost peace in the office, I would have adopted more Jeremy Paxman-like tactics. When he left the room, I apologised to everyone else. An hour later, he returned and in the interim, he had been put in his place over the issue I tried to raise with him, it only remained for me to add the final blow by making a cutting remark over his shouting. I was reminded of an excellent song by Grafiti called What is the Problem, this was a Mark & Lard Record of the Week, it features the words, ‘I can’t win ‘cause you shout louder.’
We settled back to equilibrium and parted company for the evening.
posted by Leif at 9:30 PM
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