Push comes to shove

I had an interesting experience the other day. Yet another late project [are they ever on time. really]. Terrifying deadlines. Crunch time. I was in the company of some "management types" when one declared, "Let's push them, pressure them...". I found it quite amusing. This is how managers talk/think. Hmmmm. Orders are barked around and threats sprinkled here and there. Later, I was in the company of some non-management guys. "Normal" types. One chic says to some guy, "Don't bother too much whether that stuff is correct. Just finish so that we get out at 5". Among yet another group of those being pushed and pressured, the sentiments are similar. "When you die they'll replace you the next day." Interesting. The outcome seems to be the direct opposite of what is desired. At the end of the day, both groups are frustrated.

I'd barely had time to recover from the employee of the year award when I was thrown into the middle of the crisis. Left for home at midnight that Friday. Sato morning and we were back at it. Left a bit early then. 10pm. Took a cab home but as soon as I got there, I decided to turn back and join 0.5 and the ChinaMan in tao. Several alvaros later [that was only the second place I had been able to find the drink], and I was dragging my tired, half-asleep self to the club. Somebody called me an addict. We were meant to check in to work at 8am the next day. Sunday no less. I got there at 6pm. Sure, I was a couple of hours late, but there was plenty of work still to be done. Worked all night, into the next day and finally went home at 8pm on Monday. I'm woken up by numerous phone calls on Tuesday morning. I drag myself out of the house and get to work at about 11am. There's a different deadline everyday. Or is it the same deadline that keeps getting moved everyday. Whatever the case, there's stuff to be done. So I worked all day, and night, and the next day. Got home at 10pm Wednesday. Folks there were extremely concerned. I figured it was over. After all, another "final" deadline had passed. Thursday. Labour day. More frantic phone calls to start the day. I can't believe I'm going to the office but I head there anyway. This is purely on humanitarian grounds. Left at about 10pm that day. Friday. I'd decided to sleep in but the nature of the voice on the other end of the phone got me out again. The best solution is not to answer the phone. If you do, you're sunk. But I was determined to leave the office early. After all, the worst was over. Ended up leaving at 3am and was back on sato 10am. By this time I was a zombie, seeing images of myself collapsing where I stood. Or sat. Left the office at 8pm in the end. I've never done anything quite like it. It would have been a week from hell, had I had time to contemplate on it.