Moments…

It’s 3:30am. I’m awake, and I can’t get back to sleep.
It’s frustrating, but there’s no point in getting angry about it. That just makes it harder.
It’s 4:00am. I finally drift off again.

It’s 4:59am. I’m awake, but I’m supposed to be. I get up and turn off my alarm. I may be awake, but that doesn’t mean I can handle sudden loud noises yet.

It’s 5:30am. It’s dark, it’s 3 degrees, and there’s a full moon. I’m on my way to the airport.

It’s 6:30am. I’m sitting in the departure lounge, filling in time waiting for my slightly delayed flight by wasting money on expensive airport wireless and working on the Conflux site.

It’s 7:30am. I’m in the air somewhere between Canberra and Sydney. I’m reading The Grinding House by Kaaron Warren. I’m rather disturbed.

It’s 8:30am. I’m walking up to the front doors of our Sydney office. It occurs to me that I forgot to get a receipt from the taxi driver. Bugger.

It’s 9:30am. I’m standing alone in the smokers area downstairs in the carpark with a cigarette and a large, not-quite-warm-enough, not-quite-strong-enough cappuccino.

It’s 10:30am. Over a small, not-quite-warm-enough, not-quite-strong-enough cappuccino, my boss is telling me that the person we hired to help me in the task of taking over the maintenance and development one of our biggest products can’t start until September.

It’s 11:30am. I’m being briefed about a project I’ll be looking after whilst two of my colleagues go to a conference in the ‘States – the purpose of this trip. I had assumed I was just going to be someone that could be called on in the unlikely event of a problem while they were away.
I was wrong.
There is still development to do, fairly urgent development.
Guess who gets to do it

It’s 12:30pm. I’m attempting to head down to the cafeteria for lunch, but I am waylaid by the project manager for The Project That Will Not Die. (Otherwise known as The Project That Stole March). The customer wants something we told them they couldn’t have.
They really want it.
They want to know when we can have it done – this thing we said they could not have.

It’s 1:30pm. I have finally managed to have my lunch, and am having another smoke down stairs, having finally escaped from the last people I intended to have lunch with.

It’s 2:30pm. I’m answering an email that was forwarded to me for reasons that I am destined not to understand. I’m trying to find the best way to say “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.” in point form.

It’s 3:30pm. I’m standing around with the others discussing important things like drinking butterscotch schnapps from a stein, and the size of American fast food softdrinks.

It’s 3:31pm. It occurs to me that I should be packing up and ordering a cab right about now.

It’s 4:30pm. I’m sitting in the departure lounge filling in time before my flight by fiddling with the Conflux site some more. I passed on the overpriced wireless access this time.

It’s 5:30pm. I’m in the air somewhere between Sydney and Canberra. I’m reading The Grinding House. I’m still rather disturbed.
However, I also have some crackers and cheese, a glass of red, and an attractive blonde sitting next to me. Sometimes I wish the Canberra – Sydney flight took a little longer.

It’s 6:00pm. It’s dark, it’s 2 degrees and there’s a full moon. I’m on my way home.

It’s 7:19pm. The heater is on, I have a cup of tea, and that’s all I have to say for now.