Every loves an economist... kinda

I am back in my office on a Friday afternoon... which doesn't feel quite right, as it is 6pm and it feels like the middle of the day. It's the end of the week and * drum roll * the end of semester. The university is starting to wind down and with this daylight saving, it's wreaking havoc on my 'must-do-this-must-do-that' mentality. I'm still turning up every day to show how keen I am to be gainfully employed (I think that need to prove myself will wear off in about 45 years time) BUT there's no-one else in my corridors to witness my efforts!

I look out of the window to contemplate. I have a room without a view. Correction. I have a room with a view... of a staircase and an ever-climbing mountain of dead leaves that the gardener is secretly stashing. Strangely, I like my basement view of absolutely nothing scenic. Less distractions (in theory).

Which of course means, I create my own distractions (in practice).

I have returned - slightly inebriated - from a Presentation given by one of the academics at the other end of the university. I am pretty sure I was the only person below the age of 48. And I am pretty sure I was the only person who wasn't an Economist there. Bowties, gaudy ties, bad hair days and pot-bellies were de rigeur.

When people start talking Adam Smith and critical mass, I know I'm not in my element. You know that feeling. You turn up to a party/wedding/funeral where you don't know anyone and end up having a nice conversation with someone's grandfather. Well, that was my afternoon. Having said that, those Economists sure know how to wind down at the end of semester. Wine around the house and plenty of nibblies, and some rather odd jokes about monks and the missionary position. What the?

Who said Economists don't know how to have fun?

Well, probably me, you and everyone who's not an Economist. But hanging out with the Bowtie Crew on a Friday sure beat sitting in my office sobre and bored with marking!

I need new friends.