So its been a while.
Last week I crossed the North Atlantic in a United 747 for the first time, bound for the UK on a last minute trip for work, thats going to last me a month. I get to go home in August.
Honestly, I could go home next week and be happy. I'm here helping with QA for a new release of the software I support. Lets just say that the UK branch of my parent company doesn't exactly do a stellar job of testing, thier test systems are not configured like a store would be. They aren't installed liked a store would be, and they're a mess of manual software changes.
I spent most of my time last week trying to figure out a simple problem, that flummoxed me for most of 2 days because I had to dig through old and current configs to figure out why the damned thing didn't work, never mind why it didn't work as intended.
I'm supposed to be testing the software, not fixing it so its in a state to be testable.
Needless to say, I am not impressed. There are a lot of other little things about this trip that bug me, but thats the biggest, by far.
I work in London, I commute from a town a decent distance outside of London because except for about the day before I left, everyone thought I was going to work out of RTS's Lentchworth facility.
Not all is lost. I'm getting to trundle around the UK which isn't something I thought I'd get to do - possibly ever. Its and interesting country, with nice people, a lot of history some really cool scenery...
And I would never want to live here. I'm an uncultured, uncouth American. I drive a gas guzzling 4 wheel drive pick-up, I like Air Conditioning, and my 50 inch TV. Water thats hot. Being able to walk somewhere without being seen by at least 15 CCTV cameras. Money that fits in my wallet. Good Coffee. Space.
Being able to carry a gun.
Roads wide enough to drive on.
And most importantly my own bed.
But, I won't be getting that for a while. Anyway, I should be getting to bed. Its late and I want to try to take in the Imperial War Museum tomorrow.