I don't care, I don't care, I don't care

Maybe they're hipster effects. The craze may pass but, for now, photos of nothing will make me happy.

For how long

is "breaking news" breaking news?

Proving my point

My favourite.

"If you have a broad and in-depth knowledge of the EU, then we could soon be relying on you."

Broad and in-depth. 

A day in the ...

I wrote this just to practise my writing. I warn you now that it has no point or conclusion.

It was raining. At the first glimpse of an English Summer sun I had forgotten my coat, my umbrella, and with them, all the hard learnt lessons taught by long months of English Winter rain. I took refuge at the nearest establishment where I could take a seat and buy a drink and hoped that it would provide me with somewhere to discretely slip into my heels.

I gave myself plenty of time for the journey, including leeway for getting lost, which was just as well as that is exactly what happened when I arrived at the station and tried to follow the map that had been given to me. I tend to think that I'm good at orienteering, maps, getting around, finding my way, and all that jazz, but frankly I was doomed from the start when I realised that the street names on the map did in no way reflect the area I was in. Eventually I gave up on my girlscout impression and made use of my GPS. It still took me longer than it ought to have done, but I still had breathing room.

The Pret-a-Manger on Little Smith Street, in the heart of Westminster, proved to be a deserted enough spot to engage in the socially awkward act of removing my old Nike black trainers and shoving them in a crinkly bright orange Next bag before in turn hiding the outsized package in an old ZEW (Zentrum für Europäische Wirtschaftsforschung) canvas bag chosen specifically for the purpose of camouflaging my naivety. I hoped that the Centre for European Economic Research bag that my father brought back countless years ago would serve to somehow validate my presence at the Institute for Economic Affairs Hayek memorial lecture, this year given by Robert Barro. I hoped, knowing full well that it wouldn't, that the bag would help mask my nervousness, help me blend in, help me belong.

A bottle of sparkling water, a packet of popcorn, a copy of G2 picked up on the train, wearing an assortment of semi-formal high-street clothing, wiping my hands with a towelette – I was a mess of social messages and a lump of awkwardness -

l'intrus. I was being driven there by the same childish excitement that drew me in my youth into asking "highlighted personalities" (a few minsters, an astronomer, the country's most famous mathematician – now minster for Education, a self-made millionaire, amongst others) for their autographs – wanting to see someone known, to bask in the glow of their recognised specialised knowledge or exemplary tale of perseverance.

In the conference hall I was sure to be flanked by suits and ties, unfamiliar famous faces and names that ought to incite some reaction in me; ex-Government members, Heads of this and that, and Chief Executives of one thing or another. The certain presence of my soon to arrive, more knowledgeable and more arrogant – with this introduction I hesitate to say – friend, put me at no further ease.

1: "The voting booths go here."
2: "We're not doing that anymore."
1: "Why not?"
2: "We didn't know what we were voting on."
*pause*
1: "Which outcome is more likely?"

...

Sure, because that's not what the analysts are for. Public poll predictions!

*phone rings and I pick up*

Me: Good afternoon, [team name].

Woman: Who is this?

Me: [Team name]

Woman: Can I speak to Tim?

(we have no Tim)

Me: Sorry, who?

Woman (impatient): Tim. I want to speak to Tim [last name].

Me: We have no Tim here.

*woman hangs up*

Boss (looking out the window): Does anyone else smell horse manure?

Person 1: I smell a sickly fruity drink.

Person 2: It's Red Bull.

Boss: Ah, yes. It smells of manure.

Person 1: I think it's the taurine.

E-mail fun

Emma,

I believe [person] has already spoken to you about this, but it is simply not feasible to send a request like this and expect a response the same day, when it involves a number of officers – this has already involved 5 officers in trying to understand and respond to your request because I was not around.

I had a long conversation with [your boss] a couple of weeks ago, having already responded to a last-minute request and sent him details of our [information you requested] – set out to demonstrate the links between [first and second thing you requested]; I talked through their status and currency, I also talked through with him the issues of them being either 'stand alone [X]' or [Y] (a [Y] is not  necessarily the same as a [Z]).

He did not, at that point clarify what the purpose of the work was, or whether there would be a requirement for any further input – and I am still unclear what you are trying to achieve here and why.

I am in the office this afternoon – so if you still require us to provider further information, please contact me.

[Name]

Senior Manager, [Big department]

[Big Division]