diary

It’s school holidays. For MM staff it’s quiet time. No workshops for teachers. No teachers at their desks to ring or email and liaise with. No school administrators to contact and organise stuff with.

The KM and MM staff in our Carringbush office are taking time off. The two admins are in; so am I. But we have the place to ourselves. I stare at the computer, try to revamp hundreds of workshop presentation slides that are a hodge-podge after 12 years of neglect. I hunt down graphics, delete unnecessary words, unnecessary slides. It’s slow work; not tedious, just slow.

I like being at the office when no one else is there. The admins get on with their jobs—taking delivery of parcels, arranging transport and accommodation for our forays into the country, keeping databases up to date. They print, photocopy and disappear to find coffee.

When on tour MM project officers work long hours, start at seven, set up at eight, run workshops from nine till three, pack up, debrief till after four, then sit in a motel room sweating over the next day’s workshop. So when I’m at the Carringbush office, I’m in no hurry. Ten o’clock is an acceptable start time, four thirty a fine time to knock off.

My diary dates for October and November include fourteen nights away from home. I have two-day gigs in Sale and Beechworth, an overnighter in Wonthaggi. Outside Victoria there’s a two-day conference and a three-day staff meeting in Sydney. That’s the MM stuff.

SKIPS presentations will take me to Newcastle, Brisbane and Perth, each for two days, two nights. Hotels, motels, taxis. I’m not looking forward to it, especially the trips to the airport. I loathe that place. Plane travel is inhumane, but it’s a picnic compared to security check, hauling bags, and mooching around gate lounges.

So I’m taking it easy this week and next, because after that all hell breaks loose.

Rock on.