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Well, the trip to Cambridge went well. I managed to get there in plenty of time, due to having taken the entire day off work, met my friend Pufferfish for coffee etc, then headed out to ARM HQ. The recruitment evening was pretty good: several tech demos running, including a pair of speedcubers and a big 3d display driven by a smartphone GPU, and several people from ARM who were advertising posts in their departments. I got some fairly positive noises from processor toolchain, verification and technical publishing, and will be following them up soon. Not bad, given my lack of preparation.
After work comes fun, so they tell me. Pufferfish led me back through the Cambridge bus system to her house, where I stayed the night, and the next day I saw a bit of Cambridge, had lunch with a group of friends from up here and went home. I ended up travelling during the tail end of rush hour, and there wasn't a seat to be had all the way between Cambridge and Brighton. So today I have tired legs, but I'm glad I went. Saw friends, and a new city, and somewhere I might well end up working.
Today I'm not as strong as I'd like to be, mentally. I'm tired, can't shake this headache and my legs and shoulder are playing up. So it goes. I wish I were a better person: stronger, able to shrug off things like this and get on with life. I guess that one's a work in progress.
Speaking of progress, I have five copies of my DPhil thesis in my bag. I'll be handing it over the desk at Sussex Uni at about 1615, and that'll be it, done. Thesis finally staked. Thank goodness for that.
...fuck.
So, here I am in Cornwall. Tomorrow will be Craig's wedding, and the reception, and hopefully it'll be good. Tonight, I'm sat in the bride's parents' garden, with a buffet and a group of people, some of whom I've even met before. And it's alright.
But, my heart's in a field in Banbury, I can't deny it. I'm missing Maelstrom event 2 for the wedding, and I'm ok with that, and I'm missing the people I'm not with (players and characters). There's a gazebo set up here that I daren't enter, because it might throw me into the wrong brain.
Have a good event, guys. See you when you get back. I'm off to have a good time.
Currently proofing thesis, before sending it to the publishers tomorrow morning. One hundred and sixty pages of dense material that I know, but can't skim because I need to catch typographical errors that have missed other readings.
By which I mean I'm kinda paranoid that this, in a hundred years, will be the only record of my life, lodged in the dusty depths of the British Library, and that any mistakes I don't catch will be recorded unto eternity. And that future scholars that read it will point and laugh if it isn't utterly perfect in every possible way.
I'm missing one person, and have just made the conscious decision not to go to London on Wednesday to see several other lovely people because I don't really have the time.
When I'm done with this edit-pass, I need to try to finish my CV and make a creditable attempt at writing the paper I should have been writing last week, but had to back-burner due to continuing faults and failures in the project that is my immediate source of funding. More on that later. I have coffee, and an IRC connection, and some Daft Punk on the speakers, to keep me sane and processing.
Tonight, I fear that it may not be enough.
So. Nearly done.
So nearly done.
My corrections have been accepted, and the postgraduate office has received notification of this within the deadline. I'm on course to graduate in July, in the stupid hat and weirdly multicoloured robes that Sussex Sciences DPhils wear.
Now, I just have to find a bookbinder and give them a PDF they can work from, and get a hard copy in to the postgrad office by the 17th of July. Doable. That, and polishing the CV, and all the rest await, but for the first time in a long time, my todo list is shrinking faster than it's growing.
That, and a relaxing weekend that recharged reservoirs I didn't realise I'd depleted, and maybe I'm starting to get a handle on life again. Here's hoping.
I've just finished teaching my last ever class at Sussex University. Granted, I was the TA, not the full teacher, but still, they were my class, and I taught them. They were a good lot, maybe not the fastest workers, maybe not the sharpest minds (though some of them were damn hot).
I've taught Real-Time Embedded Systems, Advanced Microprocessor Systems, Computer Networks, Advanced Network Technologies and High-Level Integrated Circuit Design in my time, and had generally good results from my classes. These are all courses I've studied, and as the wheel turned I was asked to teach or TA them. I did so happily. Knowledge-Transfer is something I'm apparently quite good at, so long as my students are willing to learn.
But now that's it. We've moved to Brighton Uni, where we currently have no teaching responsibilities, and I'll probably leave the department before that changes (it'll change in the new school year, most likely, and my contract runs out on the 30th of September). No more teaching for me. I don't think I'd want to teach full-time, but I'm going to miss it nonetheless.
As for the title, well, that's kind of how we left Sussex Uni altogether, I think. Snuck out the back door while everyone else was looking elsewhere: there are people in the Engineering School Office who are surprised to hear we're leaving, never mind that we've left and the rooms we used to occupy have been stripped.
I spent ten years of my life in that university, most of them in that building. I helped get the cafe installed (I even repaired their fridge and coffee machine when they broke down). I helped rebuild the uni radio station pretty much from the ground up. I helped save the Chemistry department from closure. I kept the fencing club ticking over by repairing kit and doing admin until we managed to get a committee put together, the year when it all went a bit wrong. I've looked after their minibuses. I've served on their IT Helpdesk. So many memories.
I passed my viva there.
And the last one, likely the most enduring, is slinking away after TAing that lesson, unable to look the students in the eye. Pressing my nose briefly to the glass in the cafe, watching them pack up for the day after all their customers have left, and being unable to open the door and bid the cafe staff farewell.
I'm going to miss the old place. And ... I wonder if my inability to say goodbye is my subconscious being unable to let it go. Time will tell.
When swinging between branches (brachiating!), it is sometimes necessary to let go of one branch before having a hold of the next, in order to bridge a gap slightly larger than you are. I wonder if that's what this lurching feeling in the centre of my chest is.