Mondays are usually hard to get worked up about, but today was full of exciting prospects. For one thing, it was the 29th of February – and there was every chance that some mad woman would propose to a bloke in the office. For seconds, Monday morning in Perth was Sunday evening in Los Angeles and that meant the Oscars would be happening live as I worked at my desk.
There were no proposals, as it happened, but there was a rather limp rendition of happy birthday that wafted over from a morning tea on the other side of the office. Considering the poor sod who was celebrating only gets to do so once every four years, I thought they might have done a bit better – a glitter canon, perhaps – or maybe a cheeky pub lunch – although as the birthday person may only have been technically been 12 that may have not been possible.
I am not sure what I would do if I had been unlucky enough to have been born on February 29th, but I suspect that I would probably tackle it by celebrating across both the day before and after, just to ensure I covered it. My actual birthday is at the end of March and it has not been unknown for me to start celebrating around St Patrick’s day and work my way through to Easter – you simply can’t be too careful about these things.
In these days of live web updates, I almost prefer being at work than sitting trapped in front of a TV for four hours -as was the case last year when I was on leave – I chose a couple of feeds to follow, fired up Twitter and co-opted my other team member to cover live updates elsewhere. The poor sod I was following on The Guardian website was updating from in front of his TV in the UK, which basically meant he was working through the night to keep us informed. It was a joy to follow his increasingly manic updates and witness the ramblings of a man trying to report on events while trying and failing to keep a grip on his sanity as he worked through the night. He signed off at the end of the ceremony about 5 am GMT by sharing that his baby daughter had just woken up so I imagine he is still awake now, eight hours later. Still, his profile pic showed a relatively young man. I am sure he can handle it.
I am glad he suffered for me. Monday is usually a dull day but it is so much more entertaining having an awards ceremony running while completing boring administrative tasks. Of course, I did not get to see Lady Gaga singing and making everyone in the audience cry, then everyone on Twitter getting OUTRAGED when Sam Smith won the Oscar for the Bond song. I did not know any of the other tracks but they must have been quite, quite awful for Smith to have won. I enjoyed Spectre, the song was fine, but it was no Live and Let Die (best Bond theme tune of all time).
Other than Inside Out and Amy, I have not seen any of the winning films – even though Mad Max Fury Road came out ages ago – it looked great but just watching the trailer exhausted me. I am still making my mind up about Room – not sure how easy the subject matter will be to watch, I definitely do not want to go anywhere near The Revenant, although I am sure it is marvellous, it looked like the worst camping holiday ever. I definitely do want to see Spotlight. Right at the end, when they were about to announce Best Movie, I guessed that Spotlight would somehow clinch it and without having seen it, I am glad it did, anything that can make working in an office watchable deserves an award.
So before I knew it, it was two o’clock and the bulk of my working day was done. Pausing briefly to double check I had not typed ROGER DEAKINS WAS ROBBED onto my work before I saved it – that poor man will be the Ennio Morricone of cinematography when it comes to Oscars – I got up and stretched my legs before settling down to the home run.
It was a month ago today I had my knee surgery and I am still not quite there. The knee is better, but is still swollen and occasionally painful. It looks like a giant pink head of celeriac sitting at the bottom of my thigh.
It may be a leap year, but it will be a while yet before I am leaping anywhere.