A less than satisfactory day

It wasn’t a very good day.  Actually for the most of it, it was pretty sh1tty.  I spend 7 hours on the plant watching other people trying to fix equipment.  And some of my colleagues were not interested in helping or learning.  To what end should I direct my energy?  To test a product I don’t really believe in.  I am trying to be open minded about it, desperately not wanting to be the “We have always done it this way” old fart.  Make that middle-aged fart.  The good part of the effort is that it is good to see a guy being very good at his job.   Three goods in one sentence.  Is that good?  Moving swiftly along, no need to dwell on my vocabulary.  After battling for two hours, we called the cavalry.  Nothing like 30 years experience applied well. 

So, 7 hours since I had a chance to do my own work, all he other doors on the corridor closed (poor me, pity me for being there late) and I get to the inevitable inbox.  Just to get a note from Finance that the BOM (Bill of Materials) I worked on, confused them.  It differed from the budget.  Mainly, as it turned out, because the budget is useless.  Turns out the budget was deliberately wrong.  Why the H E double Hockey Sticks do I bother?   So even before we start the year we know we will overspend. Deliberately.   I feel like a salmon swimming upstream against a torrent of mediocrity. ⁽¹⁾  My own output rarely comes out above average so I have been needlessly feeling guilty over that.  But why, WHY do we bother doing something we know is half arsed?  Why don’t we just skip it?

Waiting for my food I had a beer in a new place in the mall.  There at least I had the privilege of seeing someone else not having an entirely brilliant day at work.  The bartender had problems with remembering orders.  Asking questions: “Which whisky is the best? She said she wanted whisky on the rocks, with a slice of lemon.”  I had to point out that if they add lemon to it, it really doesn’t matter which whisky you use.  Then the cook came and helped himself to a beer.  I wondered if he was legally allowed to drink it.  But he had difficulty with the bottle opener, preferring to use a lighter instead.  Signs of a misspent youth I thought, except he hasn’t finish spending it. 

To cope with this glorious day I turned to the thing that rarely disappoints.  And here you think alcohol.  WRONG!  Comfort food.  It must, however, be said that what comforts me is not the food of my youth.  Mother was not that good in the kitchen.  These days I turn towards the east where the three wise men came from.  Bearing gifts of sushi, fried rice and crispy duck.  Pair the wasabi with Sauvignon Blanc and happiness spreads it way from my large stomach.  Comfort indeed. 

(1)    Salmon at least swim upstream to have their version of sex.  I know I will be screwed, but not in quite the same sense.