Here to Wherewolf

Parkinson’s manifests in a sort of delayed delivery of messages, from the brain to the hands for example. I go to pick up the toothpaste, but it takes just that little bit longer than normal. You walk down the stairs and your leg is a faltering cogwheel. Your foot lands differently than expected. Not quite so smoothly. You want to walk, but your feet don’t seem to know it yet. (more…)

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Can I have that disease in English, please?

When I was working in the City of London, I found it perfectly acceptable to shout to my colleague across the dealing room: I’m not your dotdotdot secretary! Answer your own dotdotphone. I do admit though, that kind of language was par for the course there. So, it didn’t really feel that bad. At all. Liquid lunches were also the norm. When I was about to quit my job at a Japanese investment bank, my girlfriends and I naturally headed to the pub for a gin and tonic and a bag of salt & vinegar crisps to line our stomachs. At midday. I was already plastered after the first swig - yeah, you tend to make strange choices when you’re deliberating in English about how to tell your Japanese boss - in Japanese - you want to resign. But quit that job I did. And it was a good decision.…

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