Heisenberg's Packet
There is an offer at work at the moment - regular emails are enticing us to come, eat food and taste wine, all in the special surroundings of a boat. These offers crop up from time to time, and in general, because we are working, we ignore them completely. So completely, I have a customised button marked “Fluff”, which takes the offending item, marks it as read, and dumps it in a special folder full of fluff. Of course, the easiest thing would be to have a rule that intercepts the mails at the source, and takes care of them from there, but they are sneaky, and are sent from varying people with varying subject lines. The emails, obviously, not the people.
Maybe people should have subject lines. That could be convenient. Mine would say “FWD: Is this done yet?” I ponder briefly on the subject lines that my friends and colleagues would have. Some would get confused by the idea and turn it into a mini essay trying to capture their own essence. Others would trawl the internet looking for “pithy phrases” or “funny one liners”. Quite a few would click the first link found on Google, and proudly proclaim their subject line as “Half the people you know are below average”. It’s not exactly an email subject line though, is it?
While on holiday a colleague I don’t know and had never heard of sent me an email stating that he’d be sending me biweekly stats for the foreseeable future. The subject line of his first two emails were “Test stats”. They were fabulous test stats. They had all sort of fascinating information in them, but the most fascinating part was the fact that they didn’t mention what project they were for. I mailed to ask him if he could include the project name in the subject in future, or at least somewhere in the body of the mail, but ideally in the subject line.
“What do you mean project name?”
“Well, I don’t know what project these stats are referring to - I’m currently working on 9 different large projects, and these could refer to any, all or none of these.”
“Wow, how do you manage working on 9 projects?”
“Well, I’m a project manager…”
After an exchange of another two or three mails, he finally grasped what I was asking, and has faithfully included the project name in subsequent mails. Sadly it transpires it’s not one of my 9 projects, but if I ever need a man to illustrate test stats, I know where to go. Likewise, if I ever need someone to illustrate a hand copied bible, transcribed onto vellum with twiddly and twirly capital letters, I’ll give Rudy a shout for that too. Rudy’s test stat figures and the bible have a lot in common. I suspect that they were both inspired by mushrooms and bad shellfish. Which reminds me of a particularly nice mushroom and prawn starter I had last week, but I can’t remember what else was in there, and I’m probably digressing a little too far. Though is anything ever far enough for you lot?
Email subject lines are still a tricky topic, even though we’ve been sending and receiving them for over 20 years. The subject line, like the headline in a newspaper, should give you an idea as to the content. A mail with a subject of “Upcoming event” is dull, and fails to add whelm to my day. Thankfully, someone saw sense and changed later subjects to include the magic words (Cheese and Wine, in case you were stuck mid spell, wondering how to finish off the summoning incantation for the Greater Ocultado).
Newly armed and tempted by offers of cheese, wine, and boats, I casually enquired if any of my colleagues were interested in coming along. “Hey”, I said, casually. “Anyone fancy going to the cheese and wine thing? It’s on a boat”. Michaela thought, and pondered, and wondered what time it started, and where would we board this mystical boat that was now spreading its charms around a row of desks (only those that were in earshot of my casual speaking volume). The sender of enticement was duly contacted by Michaela. She queried the start time, and received a response so vague that not even Microsoft Office, which accepts appointment times such as “Thursday week”, could figure out where in the calendar it should go.
I’ll pause for a moment until those of you with Outlook go try that out.
Being fully conversant with the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, Michaela realised that if the start time was unknowable, then the boarding location must be a definite. Sadly the inviter was less well versed in 1920s quantum physics, and could only give Dublin 4 as a location. Google maps considers Dublin 4 to be on a building marked Eirgrid in the UCD campus - a campus famous for not having a river, lake, sea, inlet, fjord or any other substance more watery than the beer served by the Student’s Union.
So, on Thursday week, at an unknown time, a few of us shall set off in search of boats in D4 and fermented grape squishings and coagulated, soured ungulant liquid. I wish I could be certain that we find the wave packet.
Maybe people should have subject lines. That could be convenient. Mine would say “FWD: Is this done yet?” I ponder briefly on the subject lines that my friends and colleagues would have. Some would get confused by the idea and turn it into a mini essay trying to capture their own essence. Others would trawl the internet looking for “pithy phrases” or “funny one liners”. Quite a few would click the first link found on Google, and proudly proclaim their subject line as “Half the people you know are below average”. It’s not exactly an email subject line though, is it?
While on holiday a colleague I don’t know and had never heard of sent me an email stating that he’d be sending me biweekly stats for the foreseeable future. The subject line of his first two emails were “Test stats”. They were fabulous test stats. They had all sort of fascinating information in them, but the most fascinating part was the fact that they didn’t mention what project they were for. I mailed to ask him if he could include the project name in the subject in future, or at least somewhere in the body of the mail, but ideally in the subject line.
“What do you mean project name?”
“Well, I don’t know what project these stats are referring to - I’m currently working on 9 different large projects, and these could refer to any, all or none of these.”
“Wow, how do you manage working on 9 projects?”
“Well, I’m a project manager…”
After an exchange of another two or three mails, he finally grasped what I was asking, and has faithfully included the project name in subsequent mails. Sadly it transpires it’s not one of my 9 projects, but if I ever need a man to illustrate test stats, I know where to go. Likewise, if I ever need someone to illustrate a hand copied bible, transcribed onto vellum with twiddly and twirly capital letters, I’ll give Rudy a shout for that too. Rudy’s test stat figures and the bible have a lot in common. I suspect that they were both inspired by mushrooms and bad shellfish. Which reminds me of a particularly nice mushroom and prawn starter I had last week, but I can’t remember what else was in there, and I’m probably digressing a little too far. Though is anything ever far enough for you lot?
Email subject lines are still a tricky topic, even though we’ve been sending and receiving them for over 20 years. The subject line, like the headline in a newspaper, should give you an idea as to the content. A mail with a subject of “Upcoming event” is dull, and fails to add whelm to my day. Thankfully, someone saw sense and changed later subjects to include the magic words (Cheese and Wine, in case you were stuck mid spell, wondering how to finish off the summoning incantation for the Greater Ocultado).
Newly armed and tempted by offers of cheese, wine, and boats, I casually enquired if any of my colleagues were interested in coming along. “Hey”, I said, casually. “Anyone fancy going to the cheese and wine thing? It’s on a boat”. Michaela thought, and pondered, and wondered what time it started, and where would we board this mystical boat that was now spreading its charms around a row of desks (only those that were in earshot of my casual speaking volume). The sender of enticement was duly contacted by Michaela. She queried the start time, and received a response so vague that not even Microsoft Office, which accepts appointment times such as “Thursday week”, could figure out where in the calendar it should go.
I’ll pause for a moment until those of you with Outlook go try that out.
Being fully conversant with the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, Michaela realised that if the start time was unknowable, then the boarding location must be a definite. Sadly the inviter was less well versed in 1920s quantum physics, and could only give Dublin 4 as a location. Google maps considers Dublin 4 to be on a building marked Eirgrid in the UCD campus - a campus famous for not having a river, lake, sea, inlet, fjord or any other substance more watery than the beer served by the Student’s Union.
So, on Thursday week, at an unknown time, a few of us shall set off in search of boats in D4 and fermented grape squishings and coagulated, soured ungulant liquid. I wish I could be certain that we find the wave packet.