Tuesday
The long Christmas and New Year finally over. The weather, a loud storm, kept me awake so that I didn't get much sleep. When I got up at 6.30 the storm was still raging although the temperature seemed fairly mild.
Thirty mile drive to my new job, which is at an Institute located in an office on an Enterprise Park in a nondescript city. I was immediately welcomed by Office Manager Bridget O'Farrell (tallish, slim, aged about twenty-five, fair curly hair cut short and boyish, green eyes, very freckled face and arms). She showed me my new desk, brought me some coffee, told me all the general office things I needed to know.
A tall young man (a boy really) came up and introduced himself as IT and Accounts Assistant John Johnson. He gave a rough overview of the technical facilities available. He then set up my new work e-mail (I declined the offer of an official mobile phone as I can barely keep track of my own one).
Then Bridget took me on a tour of the offices, introducing me to the twenty-nine staff who were in that day (the Director of the Institute was out all day).
A programme of briefings had been arranged for me, and I spent the rest of the morning talking to Development Manager Tim Watts (aged about thirty, short ginger hair, very pale blue eyes). He was hesitant and unsure about what he should tell me. Everything he said was prefigured "this is of course confidential".
In the afternoon a briefing with Campaign Manager Keith Chandler (aged thirty-eight, ex-RAF, very hearty, well-built, double-breasted dark suit, moustache clipped short in the military style). He gave me a not entirely coherent description of forthcoming projects. He told me I would enjoy working at the Institute.
When 5 o'clock arrived I went home.
Wednesday
The new journey to work is congested, so that I had to wait in a line of traffic just to get into the city.
I was due to have another meeting with Keith Chandler this morning but he put it off, while at the same time giving me vague requests to produce some literature. I rewrote a letter of his that needed some care in drafting. Then I looked through the library of reports produced by the Institute over the years.
In the afternoon a briefing meeting with Lois Cooper, Deputy Director (aged about fifty-five, fairly stout, no-nonsense attitude). She had started at the Institute about ten years ago as a PA and gave me a history of the organisation - a tremendous start, then some years of stagnation, and then the current regime. She explained that funding was key and when the money ran out (as it sometimes does) everything stops until they can get some more.
Broadly the Institute researches areas of interest, develops policy ideas, and promotes these ideas in various campaigns.
Thursday
Limited parking spaces at the Institute so that I have learned to arrive early.
At my desk I began to plan the layout of a booklet, and also plan an exhibition stand (both of these were for Keith Chandler).
Then into a meeting with Director Vijay Singh (aged about forty-five, chubby face with glasses, very shrewd). He gave an overview of the Institute's work and how he wants it to develop. He then talked about what my contribution would be - research, literature production and PR.
The meeting with Vijay Singh lasted all of the day, and when it ended I went home.
Still the mild storm rages.
Friday
Most of the morning I spent compiling a newsletter which is to be given out at an exhibition. This entailed a lot of discussion with Keith Chandler, who is so disorganised he is infuriating. Vijay Singh interrupted one of the meetings to give me a list of people at a "sister organisation" he wants me to cultivate.
Drama when the bickering on the Accounts desks (other side of the floor from me) broke out into swearing and shouting. Marcia Walsh, who supervises the section, ordered the two miscreants (who included John Johnson) into an empty room close to my desk ("Get into that office NOW"). Through the thin partition I could hear sobbing from the female Accounts clerk and lots of self justification.
Although it was a trivial scene, and soon over, it was at variance with the sober, almost staid, image the Institute has.
Another long meeting with Vijay Singh who explained the complex relationship we have with a big national organisation that currently provides most of our funding.
As I came out of the meeting John Johnson crept past me into Vijay Singh's office, presumably wanting to get his version of events in first before any recriminations begin.