High-profile Lottery jobs are now relatively rare in the press, except in the Forthcoming Attractions column in Insolvency Week . No longer do you have the chance to work on a £150 million scheme to improve facilities for 30 opera house set builders, or the opportunity to draft a business plan for a £30 million Showaddywaddy Heritage Museum in Leicester. You will have to find other ways to exercise the architect's legendary business acumen.
We had a few years of the Alice in Lottery-land scenario: clients who usually found disposing of the proceeds of the tombola difficult suddenly had millions to spend. So, working on a bootleg copy of Photoshop, you came up with a funny (but sustainable, obviously) shape; your nearly numerate friend did vast amounts of form-filling; you rolled a political double six (eg having your Glasgow National Museum of Football-based Religious Bigotry application considered on the same day as Sadler's Wells); and ascended to the sunlit uplands of Lottery funding, your days as a wage slave soon a distant memory.
You could look forward to a lifetime of being mobbed by adoring and attractive students, your opinion sought by admiring politicians, your every pesto-flavoured preference paraded before the envious masses in broadsheet lifestyle supplements. Except in Wales, of course, where rugby fans and druids came and burnt you out of your hotel room, cursing you for disturbing the natural order of things.
Well, we're all in Wales now, conceptually. Without the Lottery bonanza, setting up for yourself is again like taking the plunge into outer darkness. You have no option but to steal your current employer's clients. Normal service has been resumed.