Work Work Work

January 30th 2023

It's taking me a bit longer to get out of bed this weekend. To scratch together the motivation to get out and about for the day, work on the sightseeing checklist.

Maybe it's the novelty starting to wear off, or maybe there are just too many work thoughts still whirling in my mind.

But I guess it's time to talk about that anyway: What I do the five days of the week I'm not living the tourist life. I'll sprinkle in some pictures from last week's trip to the frozen Sognsvann lake so it doesn't get too boring, I promise.
I take the elevators up to the eight floor of the computer science building (take the right elevators, never the left). The walls are decorated with the stock photos that must come up first when you google computer science, as well as, inexplicably, a single, beautifully embroidered Vietnamese cicada. There's also two banners with pictures of oil rigs and tankers with words like 'geological assistant' and 'subsurface data access and analysis' written beneath them, just to remind you who pays the bills here.

The rooms here are all named after stars, which is neat. I work in Vega, typing away on my laptop next to a bunch of Norwegian students working on their thesis projects, occasionally mumbling something about a maritime policy language verifier.
Lunch, much like dinner, is absurdly early here — the loose bunch of PhD students, postdocs and profs tends to gather in the tea kitchen about ten minutes past noon.

Usually, Martin tells us tales of his eight roosters and his associated descent into madness. The coq au vin solution seems to inch closer week after week. From there the conversation drifts to papers, travels, teachings, and the occasional brainstorming on how to ask our friends at Equinor for an old offshore oil rig so we can declare our independent nation (strictly for research purposes, we promise). When everyone's finished with their food, Martin raffles off a carton of eggs to a lucky winner, and we all get back to work.

I have a meeting after lunch. As usual, I try very hard to keep up with the two PhDs arguing about whether we can use our knowledge of the world if we actually want to talk about the interpretation of the world (we can't, apparently, and that's very annoying), and if maybe we can just make our T-Box the world instead of the interpretation. My entire knowledge in this area is like two weeks deep at best, and I admit I don't really have an idea of what exactly a T-Box is now. I usually just say things like "ok but what about the bikes?", "and what if we delete the front wheel?" and "so let's say we can have any number of bells", which seems to work alright.
But back to this weekend — I do, eventually, get out of bed. I like to indulge a little on the weekend, so I drink my orange juice from the fancy glass that looks a bit like crystal and I treat myself to a piece of Parmesan and an ice tea at the supermarket.

I'll make a risotto tonight, but first I'm heading out to the harbor, where ancient myths foretell cheap food to be found. The fog hangs deep in the bay today, and the sun is low in the sky already. It all feels a bit mystical.

The 125kr shawarma I find on the end of the pier isn't a steal, exactly, but it's the weekend, so whatever. After a quick tour through some old fortress I end up at the Deichman Bjørvika, the new public library.
And, oh my, it is so beautiful. There are five stories and views of the harbor and mezzanine levels dedicated to niche topics and art and people reading and talking and eating and so so many books. I can't quite remember the last time I've been to a proper library.

When I walk up to one of the screens to type the name of some author the little thing, with no hesitation, spits out a slip of paper reading Bjørvika, floor 2, ENG -> MAC. Holding my new treasure map, i take the escalator one floor down, run my hand along the shelves — K, L, MAB, MAC — and sure enough, there it is: A small book, bound in neon green. I climb the stairs to the mezzanine, find an empty armchair and read.

Somewhere in the first pages I notice that just below me is a workshop where they have huge plotters, a vinyl cutter, a laser cutter, several 3D printers and sewing machines (including a tiny fitting room) and you can just? use all of that? for free??

So yeah, I'd like to stay here for the rest of my life please, thank you very much.