It is Wednesday evening.
El día de la joroba.
Jour de bosse.
Il giorno della gobba.
I could go on, but I’ve got to get this thing in the can and posted before bedtime. And, at the rate I’ve been posting lately, I could be here all night long trying to get something written and posted. Ever since my PC died, my writing mojo died right along with it.
I try to write, but my brain and my hands just look at me like Sweathogs looking at Mr. Kotter until the one Sweathog obviously destined for stardom says, “Whut?”
I don’t know how to answer that.
So anyway, it was a pretty good day today.
When it comes to work days, my bar is pretty low for a good day. This commercial video pretty well sums up what I consider a good day at work.
Except instead of buying a car I am just . . . well . . . showing up in order to pay for the cars and things I already have.
So, yeah … a pretty good day. PowerPoints were created and presented. Spreadsheets were filled with inscrutable formulae to obfuscate reality. Meetings that no one knew who called nor what they were about, were attended anyway until an illusion of purpose and progress was attained.
And through it all, the tenuous connection between what I do and the money that magically appears in my bank account was stretched a little thinner, but did not break.
And that, my friends, did not suck.