Monday, October 15, 2007

The Song that Never Ends

This is the song that never ends.
It just goes on and on my friends.
Someone started singing it not knowing what it was,
and now they'll keep on singing it forever just because,

This is the song that never ends.
It just goes on and on my friends.
Someone started singing it not knowing what it was,
and now they'll keep on singing it forever just because,




Can't you just see Lambchop's cute little fuzzy white face dancing around on the screen?

Now, let's contrast that with Sigourney Weaver, in her underpants, getting ready to take a nice chilly nap on her ride back to Earth, just as that alien pops up out of nowhere and scares the pee out of us.




Which one is my day, we wonder?

So late Thursday, we reached what I thought was the end of Phase I of Beanie's Death March Project, a six month romp through the bowels of modern medicine and organizational management. The end result of this little exercise in stress was a 497-page document that basically asks for money. Late Thursday, the "powers that be" pushed the magic button to send our solicitation to DC in hopes of being able to change the world at some future date.

Fast forward to last night, when the phone rang during dinner and my boss popped out of it, like that pesky alien.

"Did you read Section 4.1?"
"No, I was busy with sections 4.2, 4.3, 4.4, the commercialization plan, the management plan and the introduction. I figured 4.1 and 4.5 were the domain of scary dragons and I ventured not into them."
"4.1 sucks. It's riddled with clinical innacuracies."
"Did you call the guy who wrote 4.1?"
"Of course not; he clearly has no clue. Do you think we can pull the submission back and fix it?"
"I don't know -- never tried it. And besides, I'm not the person in control of the magic button. You have to ask the people who control the magic button."
"I don't like the way you've labeled figure 9 in 4.3."
"I thought you were talking about 4.1?"

"I don't like 4.3 either."
pause
"Sir, I'm tempted to hang up now, before I turn into a pillar of salt.

So today, the magic button people have pulled the submission back from DC, and I'm looking at another sleepless night fixing the mistakes of people who should have known better, at the behest of the guy who was begged to review this stuff LAST WEEK, but was too busy farking around with flow diagrams and other things that really didn't need his expert attention.

And I thought Halloween was still two weeks off.

6 comments:

bhd said...

How soon will that Lithuanian guy finish up his schooling? Dayum. They need to give you six months vacation or something.

Melanie said...

I don't know how you do it without going insane. seriously.

:hug:

winter said...

You must kill him.

It is for the good of all mankind.

Beanie said...

Winter, around 2 am Wednesday (the last time I thought this nightmare was over), when he came into my office with more changes, I looked at him and remarked that there wasn't a jury in the country that would convict me.

He mentioned that he had about 8 inches of reach on me, and he wielded surgical instruments for a living. 8O

puggimer said...

Stress: The confusion caused by the minds overridding the bodies natural desire to choke the living shit out of some asshole that desperately needs it!

Sounds like you have a lot of stress!

Mississippi Songbird said...

bunches of hugs.... Take deep breaths and a vacation..