Well, here it is Wednesday evening already. Who could have seen that coming? I am quite used to Sunday evenings sneaking up on me, but Wednesday has always seemed like a lumbering ox crashing through the dry underbrush. It is incapable of sneaking up on anyone. In short, Wednesday has never possessed mad ninja skills. And yet, somehow it snuck up on me. I must really be slipping.
Outside it is raining, and for that I am very thankful. Even though everything around here is saturated and the lakes are full to overflowing, I am still grateful for the additional rain. I know that the instant the rain faucet turns off in a few weeks with the arrival of summer (some call it spring), that things will dry up and become parched. Having enough water in the lakes to see us through summer is always a blessing.
Today at work was Dullsville (population: Biff). I continued working on the usual end-of-the-month reports and the start-of-the-month estimates for the coming month. I find it amusing that I get paid actual money to pretend that I can predict what will be happening over the next four weeks. And not only predict it, but predict it with uncanny precision. I am also expected to divine what will happen over the next 3 months. These longer-range divinations can be made with a little less accuracy, but are still expected to be quite spot-on. Also, to a lesser extent, I must predict what will be happening over the next year. All with 2 or 3 decimal places of accuracy, of course.
I have a hard time predicting what I will be having for dinner today, even if I had been informed of it at breakfast time. Even if told at 9 AM that dinner will consist of fried Spam and scrambled eggs, if questioned at 2 PM what is for dinner, all I can do is furrow my brow and draw a blank. “Some sort of nuggets, I think” will be my reply. And then, later that day at around 6 PM, I will be absolutely gobsmacked that we are having fried Spam and scrambled eggs when I see it steaming on the table. “Oh my gosh!” I will exclaim in delight, “I love Spam and eggs! I had no idea that’s what was for dinner! Best! Day! Ever!”
My point is, since I am the proud owner of a vague, absent-minded-professor sort of brain, I find it quite amusing that I ended up in a career that demands I predict the future. I can’t even predict the past with any degree of accuracy.
See, this is exactly the sort of thing that happens to you when you do not diligently navigate the direction your career is taking. Riding the tide may be easy and it may take you to wonderful places you never dreamed of, but it is just as likely to take you to a strange island where you don’t speak the language and where there are hippogryphs and cyclops (cyclopses?). Furthermore, the Cyclops will demand you create PowerPoint presentations detailing your journey so far (with instructions to make sure it is hippogryph friendly and that it uses only approved fonts and colors).
At first this doesn’t seem strange. But then one day you come to, and it not only seems strange, it seems absurd. Because it IS absurd.
But, you just smile at the hippogryphs and cyclops and make PowerPoint presentations because they pay you a good salary and give you a nice office and free coffee and occasional donuts and so you shrug and say, “When in Rome …” (Or wherever the hell this is.)
So the takeaways of this little rambling parable are these:
- Don’t let Wednesday circle around behind you and get the drop on you
- Always be grateful for rain unless it is ankle deep in your living room.
- Fried Spam and scrambled eggs is better than it sounds.
- Predicting the future with more than 3-decimal-place accuracy is lunacy. Always round down to one decimal place.
- Regarding the ship of your career and your life, be the captain, not a passenger (or a stowaway)
- When making PowerPoint presentations for Cyclops and hippogryphs, be sure to use the approved fonts and colors.
I think there was more, but that’s all I can remember.
I’d like to say that I’ll be back tomorrow for another riveting blog post, but who knows what will happen that far down the road?
There. I have said my sooth.