Good morning. On the, I hate false deadlines, 7:30AM into the City.
So I’m managing a project where the Architect is competing with others for a choice, award worthy construction. They have a submittal deadline. They tell the Mechanical-Electrical staff about the deadline. Nobody tells the lowly plumbing-fp sub (me and my firm) about the deadline. So, my guys have to haul ass to submit to meet everyone else’s deadlines. If not, yours truly gets to be the septic tank at the bottom of that proverbial ladder. Joy.
Enough about my stress. I’m not half as beat up as our old friend the cube-headed fellow. Remember him? He’s sitting in the next seat over looking positively ragged. Eyes are drooping; hair is greying as we speak; his prematurely wrinkled face is sagging off of his (what I presume to be his planar and symmetric) skull. God, I hope he’s not armed!
I wish I could post further, but my iCrackerbot has been buzzing with incoming words of Ditka-like encouragement from up the corporate ladder. We’d better win this competition. I need validation that this is all worth it.
Oh, also here are Walter Payton, Michael Moore, Ron Kittle, the bouncer on Jerry Springer, and Bradley Cooper’s stunt double. Armed. All of ’em.