Note: Word has informed me during grammar check that "simple numbers" should be used after labels, as in "Day 4". Not sure it's worth it to go back and change prior posts. At least I learned something today.
Today was unremarkable except for its continued lack of productivity. I got ten hours of sleep as desired last night, but still managed to spend too much time goofing off at work, either not working at all or working on things that could have waited (a rationalized form of procrastination if I do say so myself). I was also way too tired in the afternoon; maybe that whole "second-day-is-worse" effect was in play. <shrugs>
Even after being in my particular position for over five years now, I still find it difficult to set reserves. There are so many variables to consider, and they so rarely all point to the same conclusion, and my ability to assign the proper weight to the opposing forces is deficient even after all this time. It really shouldn't be such a source of pressure, though. I am still at least one level removed from my say being the last on any given number, but there is still a sense of duty and honor about the whole thing that gets me in the end. Consequently, I spend way too much time looking at even the smallest reserve, and then end up having to stay late or signing in from home (like tonight) to finish in time enough to save face. Perhaps one day I shall put everything in the proper perspective and get into a better routine.
As I write "one day" above, I once again wonder how I will be able to do "this" for what must be at least another forty years, possibly longer. I probably have one of the cushiest jobs in the department based on workload, expectations, and ability-to-get-away-with-murder, but I still just can't see repeating this process year after year for that long. Besides, with each passing year, it will become more and more likely that they will eventually move my ass to another area (or worse yet, put somebody under me). I'm honestly surprised I've lasted five years. I sometimes wonder about the nature of my "protection" from rotation. I've been told on multiple occasions that I am highly desired in the department, and yet I remain where I am. That's not intended as a complaint, per se, as I don't think there is an area or manager I have a strong desire to work for, but it's still somewhat disconcerting.
Regarding the Future and thinking back to the conversation with Papí at lunch yesterday, my mind returns to a question he posed to me: "So, what are your plans for the year?". I remember turning my head away to avert his gaze, pretending to be in some kind of deep thought for a few seconds, then turning back and saying that I essentially had none. He wasn't particularly moved by my response, and immediately went on to mention a couple of the things he wants to do. That's something about him that I have always found both attractive and irking to me: his constant optimism for the future and his incessant planning for it. I'm sure there are others who would observe him and say that what he does hardly qualifies as incessant or excessive, but in relation to me, it just boggles my mind. I often wish I had that kind of outlook and drive, which I believe is precisely why it both intrigues and angers me (this isn't rocket science).
(I know I was going somewhere with the previous paragraph but I just can't bring myself to finish knowing that I still have aerobics ahead of me and it's already 10 PM. I will switch to less substantive topics if only to continue the exercise.)
I finally could evade the Dumbass's assault of talk no longer. He came over at least twice today to speak (as usual) mostly of things that were of no consequence or interest to me. He will stop at people's cubes or offices and start talking about himself, his experiences, or his plans as if the captive audience were in dire need of being informed about such topics as a matter of course. I just don't get it. I (foolishly) asked about the tie-wearing, and the response was as expected (in both content and long-windedness). He did make one good point, though: people treat you differently when you are dressed a certain way (again, not rocket science).
As far as I could tell, T was out today. I wish I could just take random PTO days and not feel guilty about it (although she may have had a Good Reason).
I took the bandage off my ass last night where Dr. Jeff scraped off the Pimple of Death™. It hurts like a motherfucker! I hope it heals well. It sure can bleed when it wants to.
That's it for today if I still want to exercise. Thank God tomorrow is Friday (plus there is lunch with FREd), although I fear the weekend holds little hope for any true extended respite. I can't wait until March.
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