Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Tired part three

I got home from work just after midnight, made myself a little plate of goodies (an inch of thinly sliced polish sausage, two strips of smoked ham, two four obscenely good chocolate truffles) and will read blogs for as long as it takes me to eat them all; probably another three minutes.

We have nearly finished designing the competition project, I have to juggle the basement and carpark areas tomorrow to accomodate some rooms that we decided to move out of the ground floor. The elevations and sections are done "in rough" and need to be tweaked (better colours, a cheerful background, images of dogs and happy people glued in); the layout plan is done "in rough" and needs to be tweaked; the ground floor and representative hotel-room floor plans are done "in rough" etc. etc. etc. I'm sure you get the picture. We have roughly two more days' worth of drawing and printing work to do, and roughly one more day's worth of time available. Could be tight, is sure to be tense (although I must admit that U has cooled down considerably since the weekend).

The project is pretty good. We have sort-of recovered from a drastic and desperately stupid mistake, due to not reading the briefing document carefully enough. None of us spotted that one of the three public areas must have direct access to a private, enclosed garden; unfortunately all of these public areas are on the upper floors. G found a way of building an artificial hill and putting a ramp to it from the first (lowest) living area; it's a bodge but not a bad one, and the section even looks as though it might be a good idea. If we don't get thrown out in the first round because of this, we stand a good chance of being in the prize money. [Updated: results here.]

I am suffering from the bad working posture in the office (I usually don't spend this many hours there, and almost never this number of continuous hours on the computer there), I have aches in both upper arms and my left shoulder and neck. I shall take Friday off—come hell or high tempers—to do some relaxing and stretching, and if things aren't better by Monday I shall pay another visit to the chiropractor (for the first time in years).

Damn, but these truffles are good! The problem is that they're dusted in finely powdered chocolate which comes off on and melts into ones fingers, so I have to wash my hands after each one. (No, I can't lick my fingers clean, my tongue is coated in chocolatey truffley goo.)

An architect learns a lot about the personal habits of one's clients, sometimes more than one wishes to know. Example: in the public washrooms, the womens' section is required to have 2 toilets and 2 washbasins; the requirement for the mens' section is quite different: 2 toilets, 2 urinals and 1 (one) washbasin. Clearly the writers of the briefing document believe that men are filthy pigs. Perhaps they're right. (Since you ask: I put in a second washbasin. My little act of rebellion. (I also marked an odd left-over alcove as the site for a "prayer-vending-machine" but I doubt whether U will let that pass.))

To bed. Sweet dreams be yours, my dears, if dreams there be.

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