Was anyone else shocked at the latest news about the famine replica ship venture, the Jeanie Johnston? I don't mean the budget overrun on the project, initially costed at £4.5 million and now racked up to £10 million: sure that could happen anyone. You start off figuring you can redecorate the living-room for about £54.39 and before you know it you are spending £300 on wallpaper alone. And of course at this stage the old wallpaper is already in the skip, the room resembles a bomb site and you really have no option but to carry on. Yet finance is the obstacle. What to do?

You go back to the house manager and put your case. Reluctantly, she advances a few more bob, though fenced about with all kinds of provisos and opt-out clauses. Heartened, you get back to work, but in no time at all the new funds have been swallowed up and you haven't even started on the painting.

Back you go again, cap in hand. The response this time is more frosty, something along the lines of "We are still committed to this project and will help in any way other than financially. But our board is unable to put in any more money because there is not enough confidence in the rescue plan."

Now you are in serious trouble, apart altogether from the slur on your handiwork. Is it supposed to be your fault that wallpaper paste is obviously not as strong as it used to be?

But getting back to the Kerry joke - beg pardon, the Jeanie Johnston project: it seems that some people were surprised, even shocked, at a colour picture in the Irish Examiner last Thursday showing the "VIP area" of the ship, which according to the caption "will have a full bar and restaurant." And damned fine the VIP area looks too, even if short of its final fittings.

You will find this hard to credit, but apparently some fussy, over-sensitive types expressed "dismay" (meaning they were outraged) at the notion of a Famine replica ship having a VIP area, a bar and a restaurant. The thought of very important people tucking in to bountiful food and drink in a luxurious room on a craft built with public money to recall the miseries of the Famine upsets these begrudgers. What would they prefer, do you think? That important people should be fed mouldy potatoes and buttermilk in some foul and stinking cattle-hold in order to make them ponder on what conditions were actually like for ordinary starving Joe Soaps on a 19th-century Famine ship? What do they think this project is all about?

Other begrudgers, no doubt delighted at the most recent financial setback to the project, have questioned the very "replica" nature of the Jeanie Johnston itself. In what way, they ask sneeringly, do an onboard minisewage plant, steel-backed fire doors and a steel-framed bulkhead constitute "replicas" of the original Jeanie Johnston equipment? Did the dear old boat, as it plied its sad trade between Blennerville, the US and Canada, have the benefit of being propelled by two American built Caterpillar engines and navigated across the ocean by sophisticated satellite communications systems?

Further, they ask, did the ship boast 1,700 metres of synthetic canvas with which to catch the unfair winds which took it from Ireland and back so regularly, until the day it sank in 1858, though fortunately with no loss of life?

These questions are, of course, beneath contempt

Never mind all that. Listen to this: "If you want to get on", we were told by a time management consultant in this newspaper the other day, "it is better not to be seen to be wasting your time." Perception matters, you see: "Don't walk down a corridor with nothing in your hand. Bring a file or document with you." Good thinking. The whole business of office behaviour - impressing the boss, arriving early, staying late and getting one over on your colleagues as regularly as possible - is done to death at this stage. Most people who work in offices are well aware by now how the system works. However, once they step outside the office itself, many people tend to drop their guard. Defences come down and they are vulnerable.

That is why I have set myself up as a corridor consultant. You can catch me in my corridor any time between 9 o'clock and five. My fees are reasonable and you will quickly learn stuff that will have you powering ahead of your colleagues. I am also offering 10 per cent discount off my latest management book: Turning the Corner on Your Rivals. I would have called it Corridors of Power had not C.P. Snow snaffled the title long ago.

bglacken@irish-times.ie