Today I wander into the office thinking ‘hm, must get back to Franck about that weekend in London, maybe I’ll get to see Gwen, must find out what happened to all the French over the weekend, going home on Friday hurrah’ and then on a suspicious rumour I moseyed up to Logistics to check when we’re actually starting our offshore ops - I’d heard filthy rumours that maybe it was happening next week not three weeks from now.
Filthy alas, but true. So at the morning call I tell them to book me on for that job… and the next thats one I’m supposed to be doing… and that next one too… oh pants, thats three weeks. Next stop was a quick trip down to Wellsite to see if they could spare a geologist, to which the boss there looked about his empty office and laughed at me. So theres just me, looks like I’m going to be offshore, just when things were getting interesting onshore. Pip.
Over the past week I think I’d managed to rope the summer students into going out with us - they’re a little low on vim, but amenable to being dragged about which is fine. And now… if I’m right about my number crunching and the ‘two days for repairs’ which we’ve now reached the one week anniversary of continues to stretch, I might just get one more long weekend before its off, which would be good.
Eeck, must talk to sister, stranded in Cork.