Thursday, October 14, 2004

routine was the theme

Here's a sign that I might be living in my own personal Office Space hell. Two weeks ago, our group was recognized as being overworked(and it only took four people quitting, and several people declining job offers to recognize it, the brainiacs), which triggered an e-mail from the big man in charge (which is just how I like to refer to the man). Now, let's call him BMIC, BMIC sends out an e-mail saying he wants to fix this phenomenon of everyone being spread too thin. Sounds promising, doesn't it? Ah, but remember, I work for the man, so you know there has to be more to it. And there is. His e-mail goes on to say that he's hired some consultants to figure out how much work we are doing on an average week, how we are spending our time, where we can find efficiencies, etc. As if this wasn't reminiscent of the Bobs in and of itself, these damned consultants aren't really even figuring this out on their own. They've asked us to keep time logs of our day to document how we spend our time in 15 minute increments. My feelings on this are as follows: if I'm not a lawyer with billable hours, I'm not keeping a time log as a salaried employee anywhere. I know I shouldn't let nonsense like this get to me, but I am a mere mortal after all. And right now, I am what Jimmy Walker used to talk about. And to further quote my good buddy Jules, it's shit like this that's brought this situation to a head. If anyone asks me why I'm applying to go back to school after working for several years, I think this story should suffice as an explanation. Even though it's not ultimately the reason I want to go back to school, it's certainly helping to cement my decision.

On the other hand, the sun rise this morning completely justified the drive to work. The blaze left trails of pink in its path, but more breathtaking was a wall of fog that met me at my exit. The fog was certain to burn off in an hour or so, but it spread before me as if it were a cloud, giving the impression that I was driving straight into nothingness. Maybe if I lived in the wrong part of town, I would hate the fog, but for now, I continue to find it magical.

Speaking of magical, this is by far my favorite song from The Tipping Point: Star

Oh, and true to form, the Red Sox are sucking the big one.

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