Overtime

It's why I haven't written much lately, deadlines are approaching and shit is so close to hitting the fan that we're way beyond catching the occasional waft. Huge amounts of work needs to be done and I am only one of a large team who needs to roll up her sleeves and get the bird stuffed. Wow, I really like the metaphors there for some reason. Sometimes I'm impressed with how smart I can make myself sound, even if only for a few seconds.. or no one else seems to think so. Was that even a metaphor? I can't even trust my own language skills anymore... I guess the moment just died. That was fast.

So honestly, if I don't get this work done it's not my ass on the line because technically, we're not working on the shortcomings of our section but rather wiping the poop up from another section's fatally flawed system. But in a workplace where there is almost a complete integration of data and reliance on each other's information to run the machine effectively, it becomes a situation where you either put in the hours now or suffer exponentially later on and look the fool. We all know that to be proactive is almost always better in the long run than being reactive so why not, right? By the way, my sister used that well known "acne system" and says it's complete crap. I looked it up and the only medicinal ingredient in it is hydrogen peroxide... drugstore stuff, so... don't fall for it. And they chose me to become part of their team. Me because I am able, me because I am trusted to be somewhat reliable (at least some of the time) and me because somewhere along the line I became the "Database Person". I prefer the term "Drone" only because living the keyboardist's life, my mission is to stare at the monitor and manipulate data all the live long day.

Since Mr. Stinky's away training or in class three nights of the work week (weekends are another story) I am amenable to staying late those same nights. Funny thing, as Eli, my manager who shall henceforth be known as The Hawk and I had the conversation several weeks ago about me putting in the extra time I still remember verbatim the punchline my friends and I now joke about vividly.

Eli: Are you giving Stinky T authorization to put in overtime so that she can get this work done?

The Hawk: If Stinky T wants to do overtime, then I will authorize it.

Eli: So you're OK with it.

The Hawk: If Stinky T wants to do the overtime, then I am giving the authorization for it.

Stinky T: Sure, I can do Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.

The Hawk (in total seriousness): What about Tuesdays?

Stinky T (staring back, wondering if she's joking... no she's not): Yah... no. I can't do Tuesdays and Fridays.
Stinky T's inside voice: Dood, I have a life! I'd like to see Mr. Stinky once in awhile!

So since then I've been staying late several nights a week so that we can make the deadline. I can't even complain about the paltry hours I'm putting in since articling students and medical interns run on 43,000 hours of no sleep each week or something nuts. And I know it doesn't compare with people working multiple jobs either or the real integral part of the team who put in double shifts as needed, but it still leaves me with little time to sit and think, much less write, watch TV, pick my nose competently or make a decent dinner when I get home. I'm also friggin' tired a lot and not sleeping well so that's my excuse for being so AWOL lately although today you're lucky. I had an appointment in the afternoon and left work while the sun was still out *gasp*. Mr. Stinky's in class now and this is what I'm doing to fill the time as well as self-prescribe some much needed diary therapy but exhaustion is cumulative and I would rather be passed out in bed. I don't even remember what a metaphor is and I started typing two hours ago.