Lunch can be the great destroyer of motivation and momentum. You're having a good morning, you're getting things done, everything is falling into place, and then it becomes lunch time. When do you break off? When do you let things run without you for awhile? What do you eat? Where do you eat? Add a Friday afternoon into the mix and then suddenly you're in your office, it's 1:30, and you look around and go 'eh'.
Suddenly you were gone too long. Suddenly you ate too much. Suddenly all those grand plans you had to get caught up no longer appeal to you anymore. Suddenly the rest of the day becomes an exercise in struggling to feel that you got something else done.
Stupid lunch. I love lunch but stupid lunch.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Voluntering at a Fundraiser Could Work
Once a year, the Museum holds a fund raiser within the exhibit halls where food and beer is served, mostly beer. Bands play music. It's one big party.
Breweries come from all over for this event. While most are microbrews from our state, I've seen some from as far away as California and beers imported from Canada, Belgium, and England. Each brewery brings a variety of beverages from which to sample. There is no way to try them all in the three hours that the event is open. In earlier years, I've managed to visit every stand, or at least nearly every stand, but as the event has grown, that's not even possible any more. There are good beers and great beers to try.
This is why I'm concerned about working the event. I really enjoy the Museum. I really enjoy beer. I really enjoy being in the Museum with beer, as crowded as it can get. It's the sort of awesome that should happen more than once a year. Since it is only once a year, I don't want to miss it by working it.
Perhaps there is an after party where the volunteers polish off any remaining beer. Since I've walked around near closing time and have seen breweries run out of beer, this may not happen. Not knowing what I'm volunteering for doesn't help me either. Will I be working the door or the raffle, nowhere near the exhibits or the beer? Will I be transporting items?
I suppose Cuthbold has a point. I should focus on the fact that I'll be helping an institution I love, as well as the school that pays my bills. It shouldn't make a difference what I do as long as I'm helping.
It would be neat to be by the dinosaurs though.
Breweries come from all over for this event. While most are microbrews from our state, I've seen some from as far away as California and beers imported from Canada, Belgium, and England. Each brewery brings a variety of beverages from which to sample. There is no way to try them all in the three hours that the event is open. In earlier years, I've managed to visit every stand, or at least nearly every stand, but as the event has grown, that's not even possible any more. There are good beers and great beers to try.
This is why I'm concerned about working the event. I really enjoy the Museum. I really enjoy beer. I really enjoy being in the Museum with beer, as crowded as it can get. It's the sort of awesome that should happen more than once a year. Since it is only once a year, I don't want to miss it by working it.
Perhaps there is an after party where the volunteers polish off any remaining beer. Since I've walked around near closing time and have seen breweries run out of beer, this may not happen. Not knowing what I'm volunteering for doesn't help me either. Will I be working the door or the raffle, nowhere near the exhibits or the beer? Will I be transporting items?
I suppose Cuthbold has a point. I should focus on the fact that I'll be helping an institution I love, as well as the school that pays my bills. It shouldn't make a difference what I do as long as I'm helping.
It would be neat to be by the dinosaurs though.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Volunteered
“We're doing what now?”
Cuthbold sighed. “Oh, do pay attention Patrick. The university is providing staff assistance to the upcoming fundraising event at the Museum.”
“Volunteers,” I translated. “And I've already been volunteered, haven't I?”
“I've never known you to turn down an opportunity to assist the Museum before. I put your name down immediately upon receiving the information from the Museum.” He frowned. “Did they offend in some way?”
“No, it's nothing like that,” I reassured. “I was just planning on attending the event.”
Cuthbold was still confused. “You will be attending the event.”
“Yes but I was planning to attend the event as a customer not as a volunteer.”
“Eitherway you are contributing to the fundraising events of the Museum,” Cuthbold declared, his beaming smile indicating that, in his mind at least, all had been settled. “This way you also get to assist the maintenance of our good relationship with that institution.”
“I bet this way I get less beer,” I grumbled beneath my breath.
Cuthbold sighed. “Oh, do pay attention Patrick. The university is providing staff assistance to the upcoming fundraising event at the Museum.”
“Volunteers,” I translated. “And I've already been volunteered, haven't I?”
“I've never known you to turn down an opportunity to assist the Museum before. I put your name down immediately upon receiving the information from the Museum.” He frowned. “Did they offend in some way?”
“No, it's nothing like that,” I reassured. “I was just planning on attending the event.”
Cuthbold was still confused. “You will be attending the event.”
“Yes but I was planning to attend the event as a customer not as a volunteer.”
“Eitherway you are contributing to the fundraising events of the Museum,” Cuthbold declared, his beaming smile indicating that, in his mind at least, all had been settled. “This way you also get to assist the maintenance of our good relationship with that institution.”
“I bet this way I get less beer,” I grumbled beneath my breath.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
A Warning of Sorts
Chris looked haggard. Chris doesn't look haggard. I didn't think he could look haggard, being a vampire and all. “Ah Patrick. Good of you to come so promptly.”
“Well, you know I'm always keen to come visit,” I noted. “Getting a summons was a bit different.”
“The situation we find ourselves in is a bit different so some cautious is called for from all of us.” Chris leaned forward, the flames in the fireplace creating uniquely creepy shadows on his face. “The nature of reality is torn.”
I shivered. There is something in the timber of Chris' voice that generates shivers. His voice rumbles like a bass speaker. “What does that mean exactly?”
“Exactly?” Chris echoed. He leaned back in his mighty chair. “Exactly I am not sure. I can provide an approximate explanation.”
“Ballpark will work for me.”
“Excellent.” See? Shivers. His 'excellent' sounds like it's the response to 'we just executed the traitors'. He means well and he's creepy at the same time. “As it was explained to us, the walls between realities are thin at the moment. Normally abnormal phenomenon will be much less abnormal until the walls can be strengthened, rebuilt if you will.”
“So it's being taken care of?” Chris nodded. “That's good to know. What do we do in the meantime? Anything?”
“We were told to be extra alert,” was Chris' response.
“That doesn't really help,” I noted. “What does that mean exactly?”
“You have an interest in precision today.” Chris smiled. “As I asked the same question, clearly so do I.”
“And you received no clear answer.”
“Quite correct Patrick. The goal of the warning appears to be to reduce future panic but all it did was to generate current panic. Perhaps we will collide with the inhabitants of a parallel world or an alternate dimension. Perhaps the Old Ones of legend will attempt to reclaim the Earth for themselves. Or, perhaps, we will see nothing.”
“Just the normal abnormal,” I quipped.
“Yes.”
“Well, you know I'm always keen to come visit,” I noted. “Getting a summons was a bit different.”
“The situation we find ourselves in is a bit different so some cautious is called for from all of us.” Chris leaned forward, the flames in the fireplace creating uniquely creepy shadows on his face. “The nature of reality is torn.”
I shivered. There is something in the timber of Chris' voice that generates shivers. His voice rumbles like a bass speaker. “What does that mean exactly?”
“Exactly?” Chris echoed. He leaned back in his mighty chair. “Exactly I am not sure. I can provide an approximate explanation.”
“Ballpark will work for me.”
“Excellent.” See? Shivers. His 'excellent' sounds like it's the response to 'we just executed the traitors'. He means well and he's creepy at the same time. “As it was explained to us, the walls between realities are thin at the moment. Normally abnormal phenomenon will be much less abnormal until the walls can be strengthened, rebuilt if you will.”
“So it's being taken care of?” Chris nodded. “That's good to know. What do we do in the meantime? Anything?”
“We were told to be extra alert,” was Chris' response.
“That doesn't really help,” I noted. “What does that mean exactly?”
“You have an interest in precision today.” Chris smiled. “As I asked the same question, clearly so do I.”
“And you received no clear answer.”
“Quite correct Patrick. The goal of the warning appears to be to reduce future panic but all it did was to generate current panic. Perhaps we will collide with the inhabitants of a parallel world or an alternate dimension. Perhaps the Old Ones of legend will attempt to reclaim the Earth for themselves. Or, perhaps, we will see nothing.”
“Just the normal abnormal,” I quipped.
“Yes.”
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Respite
One of the nice things about life is that it doesn't seem to happen all at once. I mean, generally speaking, if you are madly busy, you know in the back of your mind that things will slow down. If things are slow, someday they'll pick up. Not feeling well? You'll lick that cold at some point. Things change so that it keeps you involved.
It's not always for the best. People you like seem to go away when you don't want them to go and people you just can't deal with are always there. Sometimes the cold never seems to fade away and you sniffle for months.
I mean, I've had stories to tell here but it's more catching up. The past week or so has been rather relaxing. Busy day at work, get home, eat, rest, sleep, nothing terribly exciting. That's not a bad thing. It's nice to catch your breath a little.
Of course, when things get slow, it just means you know they'll pick up again soon.
It's not always for the best. People you like seem to go away when you don't want them to go and people you just can't deal with are always there. Sometimes the cold never seems to fade away and you sniffle for months.
I mean, I've had stories to tell here but it's more catching up. The past week or so has been rather relaxing. Busy day at work, get home, eat, rest, sleep, nothing terribly exciting. That's not a bad thing. It's nice to catch your breath a little.
Of course, when things get slow, it just means you know they'll pick up again soon.
A Story of Mr. Cantiflas
Before my company was in the building it is today, we were operating from a building in a... less pleasant part of town. It was rough but the rent was affordable, this being the most important factor at the time. On occasion we did experience trouble from individuals in the area.
There was a crime wave in the neighborhood. Businesses for blocks around were being hit by a small gang of criminals. Descriptions of them varied. No one even seemed sure of how many members the gang had. During all this, we were running cards, ramping up security, expecting to be hit at any time.
In the middle of a show, three masked thugs attacked the box office, having apparently observed previous shows to find what they felt was a weak spot. Our security forces managed to repel them, capturing two of the men, but the third managed to escape them with the bulk of that night's take.
He made one critical mistake. In making his escape, he chose to use the alley running alongside the building, perhaps not having observed that there was an exit feeding into that passage. Having heard the alarm, many of us spilled into the alley, seeing the criminal run from us. While we had planned for the situation to occur, now that it had, it was clear we were unprepared. At least most of us were unprepared.
Reacting quickly, El Hombre de Silla flung his folding chair at the fleeing thief, clipping him in the leg, causing him to stumble. Before the man could regain his footing, El Hombre has caught up with him. One punch later, the thief was no longer resisting.
To the applause of the boys, El Hombre dragged the man back to the doorway. Handing me the money, he calmly noted “I believe this is yours, sir.”
It is not often that one can point to a specific event as the beginning of a friendship but, in his case, I can. Previous to this we did have a business relationship but this is when we started becoming friends.
There was a crime wave in the neighborhood. Businesses for blocks around were being hit by a small gang of criminals. Descriptions of them varied. No one even seemed sure of how many members the gang had. During all this, we were running cards, ramping up security, expecting to be hit at any time.
In the middle of a show, three masked thugs attacked the box office, having apparently observed previous shows to find what they felt was a weak spot. Our security forces managed to repel them, capturing two of the men, but the third managed to escape them with the bulk of that night's take.
He made one critical mistake. In making his escape, he chose to use the alley running alongside the building, perhaps not having observed that there was an exit feeding into that passage. Having heard the alarm, many of us spilled into the alley, seeing the criminal run from us. While we had planned for the situation to occur, now that it had, it was clear we were unprepared. At least most of us were unprepared.
Reacting quickly, El Hombre de Silla flung his folding chair at the fleeing thief, clipping him in the leg, causing him to stumble. Before the man could regain his footing, El Hombre has caught up with him. One punch later, the thief was no longer resisting.
To the applause of the boys, El Hombre dragged the man back to the doorway. Handing me the money, he calmly noted “I believe this is yours, sir.”
It is not often that one can point to a specific event as the beginning of a friendship but, in his case, I can. Previous to this we did have a business relationship but this is when we started becoming friends.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A Story of Rugged Robbie V
Okay, so, there was this time when I was just starting out. Well, not just starting out but, early, okay? When you're that new in the business, a lot of the older guys like to mess with you. Nothing really mean, just mess with you. Hide your shoes, throw your clothes in the shower, put shoe polish on the handles of your bag, stuff like that. Some guys were really mean but most were just having fun, ya know?
There was a dude in the locker room, Gangster Gary McGrew, that just kept bugging me. Loved messing with me. Dunno why, man. One night I came back after my match, all banged up, lost, bummer. Rough night at work, right?
I get back to my locker and it gets worse. Someone took my shaving cream and sprayed it all over my clothes. Rubbed it in and everything. Not cool.
But the guy left the can behind and it still had some shaving cream in it. I was in a bad mood and this was just too much. I took what was left and filled up Gangster Gary's shoes with it. Just the part where your toes go, so it wouldn't be obvious.
I went off to take a shower and forgot all about it. Nice hot shower can wash away a lot, you know? All my negative emotions were gone just like that. It's not healthy to hang onto all that anyway. Bad for your heart.
So when Gary starts screaming at me, I don't know what he's talking about for a minute. He starts shoving his shoe in my face and all of a sudden I'm like 'oh yeah'. He's all 'how dare I?' and that, so I'm all 'Dude, look what you did to my clothes man' back at him. He's all 'I didn't do it'.
That confused me 'cause every other time he'd messed with me, he'd said so. He wanted me to know it was him. So I said that and apologized but then said he deserved it anyway. Then he mellowed out and agreed and we laughed and everything was cool between us. Then we were buds and we'd mess with each other a bit for fun. All cool.
No, nobody stepped up and said 'Yeah that was me' until years later. Turns out it was the Smasher. Said he did it so I wouldn't get picked on anymore. Which might be true or maybe he just thought it was funny and he just wanted to take credit for it turning out okay. Not sure man.
There was a dude in the locker room, Gangster Gary McGrew, that just kept bugging me. Loved messing with me. Dunno why, man. One night I came back after my match, all banged up, lost, bummer. Rough night at work, right?
I get back to my locker and it gets worse. Someone took my shaving cream and sprayed it all over my clothes. Rubbed it in and everything. Not cool.
But the guy left the can behind and it still had some shaving cream in it. I was in a bad mood and this was just too much. I took what was left and filled up Gangster Gary's shoes with it. Just the part where your toes go, so it wouldn't be obvious.
I went off to take a shower and forgot all about it. Nice hot shower can wash away a lot, you know? All my negative emotions were gone just like that. It's not healthy to hang onto all that anyway. Bad for your heart.
So when Gary starts screaming at me, I don't know what he's talking about for a minute. He starts shoving his shoe in my face and all of a sudden I'm like 'oh yeah'. He's all 'how dare I?' and that, so I'm all 'Dude, look what you did to my clothes man' back at him. He's all 'I didn't do it'.
That confused me 'cause every other time he'd messed with me, he'd said so. He wanted me to know it was him. So I said that and apologized but then said he deserved it anyway. Then he mellowed out and agreed and we laughed and everything was cool between us. Then we were buds and we'd mess with each other a bit for fun. All cool.
No, nobody stepped up and said 'Yeah that was me' until years later. Turns out it was the Smasher. Said he did it so I wouldn't get picked on anymore. Which might be true or maybe he just thought it was funny and he just wanted to take credit for it turning out okay. Not sure man.
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