The enemy of my enemy is my friend

As mentioned in an earlier post, one of the other visitors here at Oxford is from Monash University (she’s in early childhood education). There is supposed to be a rivalry between our two institutions (Melbourne and Monash), which includes paying attention to who does better with teaching and research and winning grant applications.

Like me, she was also sharing the office that was invaded by linguists, but fared even more badly than I did. I’d commandeered a desk from the beginning and had marked my territory with books and stuff; whatever space she might have claimed disappeared in the early sorties.

Yesterday, as it appeared that the relief of Mafeking was at hand and that we might be evacuated to friendlier soil, we joked about the end of the Melbourne-Monash rivalry in the face of a common enemy. Ironically, we had each just heard that our respective grant applications had been successful, so we were level-pegging on that score too!

By the end of the day, we had moved to a new office. It is still a shared space, but, so far, it seems that there aren’t quite so many people. We have stuck our names on a desk and filing cabinet each, and hope that we are now free of the threat of further invasion or eviction.

There is, however, one unresolved problem (take heed, powers-that-be in Melbourne): one of the occupants is a part-time tutor, and he has had appointments with students on a regular basis involving extended conversations about their work.

Aaagh.

Cary Lewincamp, headphones … here we go again.