Saturday, April 19, 2008

How. Why.

So I got a letter on Wednesday. I got confirmed. How now. Can't believe it's been 6 months since they ambushed me. 4 months since I resigned. Tried to anyway. For some reason they were reluctant to accept that one. A couple of days after, at the staff party, my name was called out to receive some award. My surprise was totally camouflaged by my laughter. That was funny stuff. I'd handed in my resignation letter days before. And I was being feted for something I'd apparently come up with. Apparently. Everyone knows I'm not the creative type, and rarely come up with anything. But I figured it was their way of keeping me from doing something silly like not coming to work the following week. I was headed to the coast actually. Take some time off, they said. How many days do you need. 10? Only 10. OK. Bring the leave form after this.

So 10 days and the worst of the post-election violence ended, and I was back at work. I figured that they'd see the truth [I'm not cut out for management] and fire me. Projects are late [are projects ever on time], this and the other aren't working, but I'm still there. Twice I almost didn't come to the office at all, but I'm still here. I'm not sure how.

So I got a letter on Friday. I read it three times it was so unbelievable. Only after the fourth read did I get to the very end of the letter, and the section that said c.c Managing Director. They want to give me another award. Why now. I could guess who was behind the first one, but this. Who's idea is this. It's not like I've done anything exceptional. I haven't had to use recursion even once. Well, I used a recursive algorithm only once in all the two years I worked for an ISV. Still. Most [all] the stuff I've done has been trivial. There was a suggestion that it is the logical result of working "crazy" hours. Sure I'm in the office right now, but I typically leave at 1830 everyday. I know a host of people who work much longer hours. And it's not a good thing anyway, not having a life [woman].

I spent all of yesterday night trying to figure it all out, but came up with nothing. So I'll leave that at that and go have some drinks. I wonder if that alvaro drink will be in stock today. Reminds me of Recoba, and Arbeloa.

Pressure, pressure, pressure ya nini?

I attended this meeting some time back. Going in, I was aware of the tensions that would be manifest. That's always likely when you have like 4 departments gathered round to discuss a project that is one year late. I actually wasn't meant to attend but got called in for backup. Daggers drawn. And right from the start people were spitting fire. Hillary would have ducked for real if she was in that room. Raised voices, bulging veins and foaming mouths. I couldn't help but laugh.

So after the meet, I was talking to one of the "enemy". You're frustrated, I'm frustrated, everyone is frustrated. Why. Why is everyone stressed and generally discontent. It can't be a good thing. It can't be the way organisations are supposed to work. It should be the exception not the norm. Is The Man to blame. Does he know how you're fretting. Does he care. Is it worth it. Is there no choice. Does it have to be this way. I don't think so.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Fair Trade.

Closer to 30 than 20 and relating to chics is still bumpy. Sad really. Then there is J. The bi-sexual (see what I mean?). This one I would have liked to keep in the dark because of what she was capable (all that lap-dancing and kissing in full public view is ..embarrassing.
For those who imagine its fun, there is tons of attitude, bs and garbage you have to deal with before getting down to what is what.
Don't really think she is bi. Its just hot-air. But she knows a LOT of chaps. And screws a good number of them. Most of the time I can't stand her theatrics, but since it is almost assured we shall meet at some pub or the other, we politely say hi and get back to the business at hand.

Sometimes the "Hi" gets a little complicated; For instance when the thirst isn't of the drink kind or when she gets stuck in a situation. Like when she drinks all her cash and does not have cabfare. Or one of her boyfriends does not turn up to fund the fun. It gets real bizarre at times. On a random Friday she will walk into the pub with some jamaa,...then as the evening progresses she leaves him and joins me.

No questions get asked. Oh, you are here? Good, good, have a seat. Later on we get to screwing. Its a beautiful thing.
I have heard it said that some women have different men to service their different needs; A nuclear fuelled tripod for the bed. A man for the sophisticated cocktail parties - knows everything from rocketry to blue-grass music; An emotion receptacle who can stand all the tears and ranting,..and et cetera. This is all good, as long as a bloke gets what he wants.

Back to J.
The script loses course after the sha*ging is done. Instead of taking a shower and taking off, she starts pacing my digs, seeing faults with everything.
Have you ever washed these curtains?
somecleaningthingamajig-whose-name-i-cannot-recall can remove the black soot on the cooker plates.
0.5 this, 0.5 that
Will you get ready I need to go?
I surpress my intense irritation, keep quiet and load a movie. I have discovered that almost all women have this deep desire to change the men in their lives - which is not necessary a bad thing - but I could not be bothered to wash my curtains.
Though she makes these noises, hers are the feeblest I have ever experienced, plus she will soon forget after she is out of my house. We leave at 1330 Hrs. I am heading to the office.

Just 25 yards outside that building and a guy in a black golf starts hooting at us. He stops and rolls down the window and no prizes for guessing, she scoots over gleefully to chat with him. I smile in total comprehension and walk right on without missing a step.

Where do I fall in her food chain I wonder? I am not the stud,..sorry to disappoint. Neither am I the financier,..
But I get laid fairly frequently...
Without any exhausting commitments..
Fair trade.

Fantastic Friday.

My Friday started at 9:30PM. Been in the office, trying to speed up a process on a reluctant server. Most of the funkiest old school has already been played.
I step in and find a rather annoyed Kamikaze. Does not take long to find the root cause; Kamikaze's former fiancee (hehehe) has spilled drinks all over him. The doc is in another part of the pub.

So Kamikaze steps off to say hi to the doc and Kamikaze's former,..the Salt or the Pepper..I think Pepper can now stick,.. promptly lands at my table. She sits without begging leave and starts.

She rants on and on, cursing, throwing tantrums, calling names for an hour and a half! On my list of very unpleasant moments, this one ranks very high up. I tuned her out. She noticed this and kept shaking me and shouting in my face. Kamikaze, wisely stays away. I light up and deliberately cloud the area for metres around with smoke; She does not budge. I finally snapped and went "Have to go".


Its morning and I am walking home. It is daylight, 6 AM. Three blokes attack me, but they are rather daft and come from the front. First guy goes for my neck and tries to choke me. It gets a little twisted and the drunkeness evaporates..I twist and punch the fuc*er hard - he reels off. Second fuc*er steps in and I lash out and get him somewhere - torso or ribs. With no neck grip, they cannot get to my pockets easily and so they decide to be content with just punching me. I am punching back and its soon a brawl. We draw some attention from people standing by; Obviously their mission has failed, the thugs fear people will turn on them or something, so they leave me alone.

Still hurts. What a day.