Odd sort of day today. I seem to be developing some sort of late 19th century childern's author theme in here... if it's not A.A.Milne it's J.M.Barrie or C.L.Dodgson (Lewis Carroll by any other name), but it all makes sense somewhere...
First of all, Winnie (The Badman) and Me had planned on having a bit of a picnic at a local Starfleet office. A couple of the woodland folk would be there and we need to deal with two main tasks (although in truth there are about 40 tasks that need fixing). I digress.
These two tasks are in the form of planning for next week - which is only a couple of days away already and writing. Specifically writing "Document of Understanding" which is a very grand way of saying "List of demands". Things along the lines of "We'll do this, but if we need some stuff to do it, that you haven't told us about, then you'll have to pay for said stuff" and so and so forth. It's all very entertaining in a non-entertaining way.The other thing we were going for - apart from moral support for eachother in our hour of need - is to wave a fond farewell to Al. Al has been inspirational in a very unasuming sort of way, and he's been hereabouts for a good number of years. So many years in fact, that he's decided the time has come* to pack it all up as a bad job and go and live his life rather than work it. Good call if you ask me, and I'm sure we all wish we could do the same.
Still, like the best laid plans of mice and men, all of that's gone to pot. Turns out that there's been a turn of events at the office that have rendered it closed to all but the essential woodlanders, and me and Pooh are apparently not that. I'm not slightly bothered about not being there to do the planning and writing - we can do that from pretty much anywhere. I am however, most upset about not being able to thank Al for the influence he's had on me in the last 6-8 months. I'm acutely aware that I owe him a debt, and I hope I get to thank him properly in-person in the future.In the end, what had started off as a rough day with a sad but delightful lunch break just turned into a very rough day with a constant battering of conference calls interjected with requests for help with this, that and the other, as well as who's, why's, what's and wherefors... Fun times.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
This post originally appeared here: Posterous
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