Where does the time go?

crazy week kids. emphasis on crazy.

Firstly let me say, I'm entering the last 6 weeks of the equipment deployment phase of my project at NSI. This last bit is pretty fast paced and I need to have all my ducks lined up, which they are not due largely to the fact that it is nice outside and HN lives right next door. I've been playing, and generally not doing the amount of work I should. So last week, I took some me time and made a point to get VERY caught up. I put my nose to the grindstone and went on a meeting/documentation/planning frenzy. I got shit done, and it was good. Amen.


Now during the industrial revolution, my boss had called and told me the NC office was going to be deserted-ish this week and he had some new processes he wanted me to work out and document, and how would I feel about moseying down that way for a bit. I love the new project we have going, and was psyched to get the call so I packed up DogZirra, hit the road, and I went down to NC for what I thought was going to be a relaxing half week in the south.

It's amazing how wrong I can be sometimes. Seriously.

There was a big deployment coming up and my work buddy has been traveling a lot and hadn't had time to get prepared so we hunkered down to configure 6 machines and the networks by the time of his big trip. We worked until 6 Monday, then packed his car full of machines and headed home to work until roughly 11pm getting those bad boys ready. Tuesday was much the same story, we worked like animals until the 5:30 FedEx shipment went out and then settled down to a big "aaah" and the last 2 beers in the office fridge, merrily toasting the past 2 days
of work and the successful result. Now, notice how I don't mention any of my work in this paragraph. Because I wasn't getting any of my work done. I was thinking about it, stressing about it, but not getting it done because I was helping with this deployment business. I was also freaking out a little about not getting any work done on that, but only a little because I didn't really have enough time to freak out alot.

So I got home Weds night, and after having had enough time during the drive to get caught up on my thinking about the project and getting anxious I did the only sensible thing: Ripped my house apart. It's amazing how thereapuetic shoving your shoulder into a piano can be. It kind of acts as a physical interpretation in the exercises in futility that have been my week thus far, and that helps. now however I have a piano in my living room, and no means of getting it anywhere else. The floor took a beating during the initial move and I can't in good conscience do that again. Plus it was heavy, and I'm not sure i have enough anger left to move it.

I'm thinking of getting rid of the piano, I'm having a dilemma. I wanted to fix it up, but I'm not sure I'm ever going to stand still long enough to do so. And it makes me feel encumbered, which I'm having some crisis about this week. But it's so pretty. and a Stieff. with an iron soundboard. A total find, but am I ever going to play it is the thing? sigh.

I hope it resolves soon, otherwise when they come to investigate the arson, they'll find the hotspot started in my living room, right about when the piano is.