A few Saturdays ago, I was doing something in the kitchen and inexplicably rammed my head into the range over the stove top. I almost knocked myself loopy, but more or less found it funny until I glanced in the mirror later in the day and discovered that the experience had, indeed, left a mark.
Then, on that following Monday or Tuesday while at work, I was playing with with a piece of paper and ended up cutting myself on my face, right next to my nose. Of course, I wasn't really aware that I had done this until a girl who works for me said, "ohmygosh, Bryan, what did you do to yourself?"
Down the hall I went to inspect the damage, and discovered that I had a nice paper cut about an inch long. Impressive.
However, I've got enough battle scars from the routine events of work and my personal life, so these additions were not particularly needed or welcome. On the humorous side, they did give me chuckling material throughout the rest of the week.
That Friday was a pretty extensive day at work, but things really started clicking, and while we've always got plenty of challenges, I clocked out around 7pm feeling pretty comfortable with things (everything, that is, except for the fact that I was the last guy at work at 7pm on a Friday night).
I met up with my parents to have a bit of dinner in the pub. We were able to catch up a little more (after their arrival the previous day), but I wasn't too upset when they called it an early night around 10.30. Bed was on my brain, too, and after los padres headed for the U-Bahn, I stayed for a small beer just to finish the evening. As luck would have it, John walked in right as I was trying to pay out, which meant that I needed to stay for another, if not a couple.
OK, so it turned into two more pils and a glass of whiskey, but it wasn't a bad way to spend a Friday evening, even if there were way too many St Pauli hooligans hanging about.
Saturday needed to be a productive day: I absolutely had to get the flat cleaned before mom and dad came by that evening, and I really wanted to get into the gym, too. Furthermore, I was hoping to meet up with a friend, and this was likely to be a bit of an emotional chat.
The Blaggers ITA provided the rousing tunes that helped motiviate me to get the house pretty darn clean. I even got the mop out and swapped the tiles (What is it about "Oi!" that helps one scrub a dub dub?), then with complete satisfaction, jogged down the street to meet my friend. We had a much needed conversation, and at the end (she had to work), I felt much much better about a whole lot of things.
It pretty much served to launch the start of a nice holiday period for me.
Saturday evening, several of us headed off for a nice seasonal dinner at a local Frankfurt restaurant. The atmosphere was very festive, and all of us had a really excellent evening. I'd almost go so far as to say absolutely incredible, but will stop short of that, since I'm using way too many superlatives right now, and I'm not even describing football.
The following Monday and Tuesday were a bit hectic at work, but I bustled through and walked out of the office one last time (until, at least the end of the year) Tuesday evening and caught a train back to Frankfurt.
I toggled between the pub and the Kueche that evening, playing a bit of quiz, having a few drinks with friends, wishing everyone a good holiday. At least, I think that's what I was saying, but the drinks were flowing pretty quickly. A highlight was finding out later that we'd actually won the quiz, which was a delightful surprise.
Wednesday morning was spent throwing things into a duffel bag and preparing for Spain. I landed in Valencia late Wednesday afternoon and found Lynne and Daniel waiting for me at their metro stop. Man, I've got to start coming over a lot more frequently.
Coffees with Chris, Lolis and Lynne on Thursday morning gave me the chance to realize how poor my Spanish has become. That didn't stop Chris from giving me a bit of much needed advice on how to live my life with a bit more balance. Actually it was quite the thought provoking conversation. Amazing that as enigmatic as I try to be, just about everyone sees right through this and tends to point this very fact out to me whenever they feel compelled. It kind of cracks me up.
Just before lunchtime, I zipped into city to Casa Americana to see Alan, Pilar, and Jackie. Last year I was pretty much sick for my entire Christmas vacation and basically hadn't seen any of them in two years. Thus, this was an important visit. I found myself struggling terribly to speak with Pilar in Spanish. In fact, complete and utter disaster comes to mind. I think I actually may have inadvertently used a few Flemmish words, and I'm fucked if I know where that came from.
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) there was no time for a coffee, Pilar was finishing work for the holidays herself, so I bid her farewell, then stayed to talk a bit more with Alan about the joys of program management in Germany during a worldwide economic, um, downturn. It was equally good to catch up on things at the center; teachers coming and going, etc.
I stopped in for a few guinness in Finnegan's to see some of the old crew, then got home in time to pick Daniel up from school and to prepare for mom and dad's arrival. This would mark the first time in almost a decade that I've been with my parents for Christmas. Kind of special.
Friday morning I walked around Valencia by myself, doing a bit of thought collecting and just enjoying the scene. Of course, I found myself back in Finnegan's, where I enjoyed another afternoon of guinness and the odd chat with some of the other regulars. Despite the fact that this pub is in a tourist hotspot of the city, I still like it. A lot of the employees have been around awhile, and the regulars are a bit similar to my own experience in my Frankfurt local (though we speak a lot less Spanish in Frankfurt). OK, so I missed lunch for the second straight day, but survived on a bag of chips and a couple of coffees.
Lynne's choir was singing that evening at a church across the plaza from the pub, but I wisely returned to Meliana so that we could return to the concert together as a family. (On other occasions I have used poor judgement and tried to sit through a 90 minute concert in a cold church, desperately needing to visit the gents.)
My nephew had been indicating that his tooth was very loose, and this stood to be the very first opportunity for the tooth fairy to come. As it were, Daniel decided to wiggle the tooth (as you do) for the entire concert, during which we had to utilize some kleenex to soak up the saliva and blood. I would have probably done the same thing as my nephew (a loose tooth just has to be wiggled), but I was getting a bit grossed out with the soggy kleenex. Finally, we both agreed to try and be patient; the tooth could come out later that evening in a more appropriate setting, namely the kitchen at home.
The concert was OK. A youth choir sang at the first part, but their performance was overwhelmed by the singers' parents, who were all busily videotaping the concert from the aisles as opposed to actually trying to enjoy the music.
Lynne's group didn't perform at their best, but I enjoyed it all the same. Afterwards, I was glad to greet everyone, all of which had been around three years before when I sang, too. All of us metroed home a bit later and met up for dinner in Meliana with a couple of other families. Quite the festive evening finished off by a couple of chupitos.
Saturday was another reunion day: Steph, Rafa, Ciara, and Luna came over for lunch, and we had a super afternoon visiting, playing, and reminiscing, never mind eating way too much. Luna was cracking me up. She never stopped beaming the entire time, but never uttered a peep. Older sister Ciara was much more chatty in both English and Spanish.
Rafa suggested (ok, demanded) that we go watch the 2nd half of the Real Madrid-Valencia match in Finnegan's, and I certainly wasn't about to turn that invite down. So, we drove back into Valencia together, listening to Miley Cyrus the whole way. Dude, that girl's music is awesome. I mean, really. I may just have to get satellite so I, too, can watch Hannah Montana on telly.
I better understood why Rafa felt so inclined for us to park the car and immediately hail a cab to the pub; living with three beautiful girls certainly has it's pros and cons. Driving around town in a beautiful A6 grooving to the greatest hits of Britney Spears and what not may not necessarily fall into the "pros" category.
Luckily, within a few minutes we were sipping beers, talking shop, and watching VCF hold their own with Real. Final score, 1-0 to Real, and we nipped to the restaurant next door in hopes that some tapas would help to soak up the beer (and the wine we'd had during the course of the afternoon), then returned to the pub for a couple more guinness to round out a very nice night.
Daniel sang at a concert in the local church early Sunday afternoon which was rather entertaining. There are loads of little ones in Meliana, and I think all of them were singing that afternoon. Fine by me; I was glad to have the opportunity to hear "Adeste Fideles" one more time.
I caught a few more football matches later that afternoon in Finnegan's, and just enjoyed the time in my Spanish local. There's just something about having a little welcoming place to collect the thoughts and relax, no matter what city I happen to be in. Obviously Valencia is special to me, and whether or not I ever choose to live here again is irrelevant. At the very least, I've got a home pub I'll always feel welcome in.
Monday was family baking day. We started early, finished late, but had loads of success. With mom and dad around, things were a bit more crowded in the kitchen, but we banged out plenty of Tollhouse, Haystacks, truffas, and a couple of other things my sister likes to do. I'm fairly sure we've got enough to satisfy our sweet tooths over the next couple of weeks. I am personally proud of the fact that I made all of the truffas myself.
A lot of people I've seen here have commented that I've lost a lot of weight. "Stress," has tended to be my reply, since I wouldn't say that my diet is the healthiest in Germany (nevermind the cigarettes and alcohol consumption). However, I noticed how skinny my legs are this morning while getting out of the shower, and while I believe it's ok to not have porked up, I'm gonna have to fix that somehow, and will probably start with a fair amount of whiskey's and christmas cookies over the course of the next several days.
I have managed to leave work in Germany; I've truly enjoyed myself over the past week. OK, I've talked a few times with some of my staff, but they're taking care of things for me, and I've not read a single work related email. Maybe I'm finally learning to find this work life/personal life balance after all. It's possible it's still too early to tell, so for the short term, I'll just continue to enjoy things as they come. More feeling, less thinking.
Yesterday, the whole family trooped into the city to finish up a bit of shopping. It was a bit exhausting, since most of the rest of the city had a similar idea, but it was still fun spending family time together. The odd carajillo helped, as well.
So here we are on Christmas Eve. We've finished up the decorated cookies today, had a nice lunch of potato bacon chowder (that we traditionally eat on the 24th, regardless of country), and have got a nice bundt cake ready for Christmas morning.
I'll take the moment to wish everyone a Happy Christmas, wherever you happen to be.
note - the soundtrack for this piece is a bit of a hodge podge.
1) Pablo's Christmas mix - a lovely CD that Sr Pascal produced several years ago; it's firmly cemented in the CD changer at this time of year. Er, in between Il Divo and the soundtrack from Toys.
2) Hot Potato, Hot Potato - this little gem comes from the fact that it's the song that popped into my head upon entering my sister's kitchen and seeing this years Christmas pic of the McKee kids, right next to their picture from the year before and the year before that. Great stuff, and it's pretty great that Goliad has such a global influence.
3) Styx - Paradise Theater - OK, this is a stretch. Two random evenings in the past month I've been at a pub doing the quiz night in Frankfurt. On two separate rounds, I had to dig deep into the memorybank to pull out the band and song title of two tracks by Styx. No one believed me the first time I answered correctly (how could Bryan possibly know Styx, he only listens to punk!) but after we won the quiz that night, no one has really questioned my ability at the quickie.
Come to think of it, I'm rather glad that there aren't too many questions about Broadway musicals; I'm not sure I want that many people knowing that I'm able to sing both the male and female parts to the main song from 7 Brides for 7 Brothers...and whatever would that do for my enigmatic reputation?
keep the faith
bryan
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Random Acts - Blue in the Face part 2
OK, so the last bit might have been on the not quite so cheery/positive side, so I'll switch gears and give a brief update on the things that make this experience I'm having in Germany so great. Most of it's basic, hardly profound, but important to relate all the same.
This won't be a top list of great things, since I've managed to lose the notes I made on the train the other month. Instead, it will simply be a list of intersting bits.
1) late night Kebap shops - There's just nothing better than staggering into Miro's on any given evening around 2am (or 12 or 10, depending on sobriety state) and having someone whip you up a couple of durums. They always ask you if you'd like a nice tea to drink while you wait, and you always say yes, whether you want it or not. Sometimes guys are in there playing cards, sometimes some guy is scratching out a tune on a guitar. You never know, and you always enjoy it, even the next morning when you're asking yourself why on earth did you think you could eat 2 doners in the same sitting.
2) hitting the metro at the right time - For some reason, every time I go to my local U-Bahn stop, I walk down the stairs, and then feel really cool as the wind tunnels through (usually because of a departing or an arriving train). My jacket sort of whooshes out, and I always feel like I'm in a John Woo film. (note - this may be one of those things that you just have to experience to appreciate)
2 1/2) hitting the metro at the right time - there's a guy who sometimes busks in my U-Bahn. He plays a mean Spanish guitar, and without fail, I give the guy 2 euros, even if I'm blaring my iPod and can't hear a thing he's playing. I've heard him enough times before and recognize the smirk on his face as he plays to himself. Very cool.
3) hitting the metro at the wrong time - Despite the random trash and the lunatics that tend to ride on a regular basis (that probably includes me), the metro is pretty straight forward, effecient, and easy. I don't like having to wait too long for a train to come by, and normally, my timing is pretty good. However, sometimes, you're forced to sit there and wait almost 10 minutes.
Last Friday around noon (hungover from hell day), I was standing there wondering where the fuck my iPod was (home in the jacket pocket of my other coat) when an clearly insane man started having a very enthusiastic conversation with someone invisible. There were a fair amount of people standing around waiting, and no one was really paying attention to him, though just about everyone gave him the odd glance out of the corner of their eye. Suddenly, some jerk started mucking about with this man. The jerk did a little dance right in front of him, then grabbed the man's cane and started walking briskly towards the exit. The unfortunate insane man suddenly reentered reality and was pursuing him, shouting, "hey, that's my cane."
In two years, I've been fortunate not to have seen something this sad. My thoughts that day were already a bit dark, and they brightened only a little when finally a woman jumped in and retrieved the cane for the ailing old man. Very weird.
4) Creatures of habit - the workers at the Crobag right next to platform 13 in the hauptbahnhof are totally in the groove, and they're always ready to get me a milchkaffee on the fly when I race up to the counter to grab a coffee before I jump on my train for work.
The girls that work in the kiosk in Darmstadt HBF are pretty much the exact same. They're always appreciative and pleasant when I drop by to pick up a few packets of cigarettes. Yes, I tend to see them almost as regularly as the Crobag crowd, but that's just because I appreciate being appreciated.
Recently, I caught a late train home from Darmstadt and got into the small bar just as the guy was closing up for the evening (there's an onboard bistro on one of my regular trains). The guy recognized me and handed me a Beck's even though the til was closed up tight. "Enjoy it, " he said. I did.
5) Enjoy the thanks - Last Saturday, I had the team work, as we needed to reduce our repair backlog. This normally doesn't go over well with the workers, but I'll be the first one to stand up and say that I'd just as soon not do the Saturdays either. However, sometimes you have to. Normally, I go in to show support for the team, but because of the recent hours I'd worked, I needed to stay at home and be quiet. Nonetheless, I arranged to buy the team lunch as my personal way of saying thanks for the extra work. (note - most Germans I've met don't know how to react when I thank them for doing a task). I quietly mentioned to the supervisors that I had personally forked over a couple hundred (or so) Euros to fund enough pizzas for the team (2nd note - we've got a pizzeria down the street from the repair center that's fucking good).
On the following Monday, I discovered that my gesture had created quite a stir. One of the other repair lines had also worked the Saturday, but those employees initially thought that they'd been jilted, only to find out that they had misinformation.
Quite a few members of the team that works for me approached me at various times during the course of that Monday to say thanks for what I'd done. It's amazing how a few pizzas go so far.
Yep, it's not the biggest of lists, but they all impact me, and help me to realize that for now, at any rate, I'm still where I need to be.
keep the faith
bryan
This won't be a top list of great things, since I've managed to lose the notes I made on the train the other month. Instead, it will simply be a list of intersting bits.
1) late night Kebap shops - There's just nothing better than staggering into Miro's on any given evening around 2am (or 12 or 10, depending on sobriety state) and having someone whip you up a couple of durums. They always ask you if you'd like a nice tea to drink while you wait, and you always say yes, whether you want it or not. Sometimes guys are in there playing cards, sometimes some guy is scratching out a tune on a guitar. You never know, and you always enjoy it, even the next morning when you're asking yourself why on earth did you think you could eat 2 doners in the same sitting.
2) hitting the metro at the right time - For some reason, every time I go to my local U-Bahn stop, I walk down the stairs, and then feel really cool as the wind tunnels through (usually because of a departing or an arriving train). My jacket sort of whooshes out, and I always feel like I'm in a John Woo film. (note - this may be one of those things that you just have to experience to appreciate)
2 1/2) hitting the metro at the right time - there's a guy who sometimes busks in my U-Bahn. He plays a mean Spanish guitar, and without fail, I give the guy 2 euros, even if I'm blaring my iPod and can't hear a thing he's playing. I've heard him enough times before and recognize the smirk on his face as he plays to himself. Very cool.
3) hitting the metro at the wrong time - Despite the random trash and the lunatics that tend to ride on a regular basis (that probably includes me), the metro is pretty straight forward, effecient, and easy. I don't like having to wait too long for a train to come by, and normally, my timing is pretty good. However, sometimes, you're forced to sit there and wait almost 10 minutes.
Last Friday around noon (hungover from hell day), I was standing there wondering where the fuck my iPod was (home in the jacket pocket of my other coat) when an clearly insane man started having a very enthusiastic conversation with someone invisible. There were a fair amount of people standing around waiting, and no one was really paying attention to him, though just about everyone gave him the odd glance out of the corner of their eye. Suddenly, some jerk started mucking about with this man. The jerk did a little dance right in front of him, then grabbed the man's cane and started walking briskly towards the exit. The unfortunate insane man suddenly reentered reality and was pursuing him, shouting, "hey, that's my cane."
In two years, I've been fortunate not to have seen something this sad. My thoughts that day were already a bit dark, and they brightened only a little when finally a woman jumped in and retrieved the cane for the ailing old man. Very weird.
4) Creatures of habit - the workers at the Crobag right next to platform 13 in the hauptbahnhof are totally in the groove, and they're always ready to get me a milchkaffee on the fly when I race up to the counter to grab a coffee before I jump on my train for work.
The girls that work in the kiosk in Darmstadt HBF are pretty much the exact same. They're always appreciative and pleasant when I drop by to pick up a few packets of cigarettes. Yes, I tend to see them almost as regularly as the Crobag crowd, but that's just because I appreciate being appreciated.
Recently, I caught a late train home from Darmstadt and got into the small bar just as the guy was closing up for the evening (there's an onboard bistro on one of my regular trains). The guy recognized me and handed me a Beck's even though the til was closed up tight. "Enjoy it, " he said. I did.
5) Enjoy the thanks - Last Saturday, I had the team work, as we needed to reduce our repair backlog. This normally doesn't go over well with the workers, but I'll be the first one to stand up and say that I'd just as soon not do the Saturdays either. However, sometimes you have to. Normally, I go in to show support for the team, but because of the recent hours I'd worked, I needed to stay at home and be quiet. Nonetheless, I arranged to buy the team lunch as my personal way of saying thanks for the extra work. (note - most Germans I've met don't know how to react when I thank them for doing a task). I quietly mentioned to the supervisors that I had personally forked over a couple hundred (or so) Euros to fund enough pizzas for the team (2nd note - we've got a pizzeria down the street from the repair center that's fucking good).
On the following Monday, I discovered that my gesture had created quite a stir. One of the other repair lines had also worked the Saturday, but those employees initially thought that they'd been jilted, only to find out that they had misinformation.
Quite a few members of the team that works for me approached me at various times during the course of that Monday to say thanks for what I'd done. It's amazing how a few pizzas go so far.
Yep, it's not the biggest of lists, but they all impact me, and help me to realize that for now, at any rate, I'm still where I need to be.
keep the faith
bryan
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Blue in the Face - Random thoughts in the cold
I feel like the past two weeks have flown by in slow motion. I spent Thanksgiving day preparing my team for a physical inventory of our materials, but took a few minutes to live vicariously through the statesiders by reading the remarks they were leaving on facebook: i've eaten too much and now it's time for football tended to be the general theme.
For the next week, I clocked 14 hour days and impressed myself by getting up each day at 5am and walking into the office around 6.45. I convinced myself that I was being productive, and in all actuality, I was. However, by the following Thursday, I was noticeably tired, and about 10 people in a row commented as such. Thankfully, most of the remarks were caring and genuine; only a couple were of the "geez, you like total hell" type.
I popped into the pub last Thursday and ended up playing a bit of quiz and chatting with some folks I hadn't seen in a while. Unfortunately, I bumped into someone I wasn't expecting to see, and, after 80 hours of work in about 5 days, you don't always come across as you'd like to. Thus, I sort of made a shambles of a conversation with a friend, and foolishly drank myself through the experience as opposed to wising up and fucking off home to safety.
Alas, I was scheduled off for the Friday, but, upon waking at 11am, pulled myself together and went into the office. We'd just been notified of a business review scheduled the next week in Brussels. Crap timing, I'd say, since this was the third "day off" I'd taken in the past 4 weeks, which basically meant I went to work and told people I was on holiday anyway.
True, I was a bit hungover last Friday, but did manage to get some things done during the afternoon. I spent a relatively quiet weekend watching a few films and visiting the gym. I attempted to do a bit of Christmas shopping, but lost interest about 15 minutes after entering a crowded store, and elected to return home, where I stayed in most of the rest of the weekend.
Sunday afternoon I tried to do some work on the presentation we'd need to give in Brussels, but everything felt a bit disjointed. An executive in our company made a last minute decision that the PMs wouldn't make the business review trip. Instead, only the sales guy and the two General Managers of the repair sites would make the trek to lovely office park land right next to Brussels international airport.
After a few hours trying to put some stuff together, I basically gave up and decided to go to the gym. That turned out to be a pretty good outing, and around 8pm, I finished up and stopped off at the pub for a couple of pints and a chat. I was able to collect my thoughts a bit, and suddenly found myself really feeling in the spirit of the season.
I had a nice chat with a few folks, and all in all, it wrapped up the weekend rather nicely. At least things ended on a decent note.
Monday had me up and at 'em at the crack of dawn, and once again I strolled into the office at a quarter to 7, pretty fired up on coffee and Alkaline Trio. The day was relatively stressful (which is like saying Bryan is just a casual smoker), but brightened considerably that evening when I entered the pub to see a few friends sitting around to partake in steak night. My local offers a pretty decent sizzling steak on Monday evenings at a special price. I'm not the world's biggest red meat fan, but must admit that the steaks are pretty good.
I was already feeling a bit pensive and distant from everyone, but was enjoying the company all the same. However, it was hard to dismiss the fact that my boss was about to meet our customer the next morning in Brussels, and things are not particularly stellar in our repair program at the given moment, for a variety of reasons. I figured that he'd take a big bollocking during the meeting based on our recent performace. We all know that I've been married to the job for a long time, and I take this stuff way too personally. As a result, I've got one of the better programs going in Europe, but at the expense of me. Despite my efforts, though, the customer still expects more. Up til now, I've not quite been able to find the right balance. These thoughts were all racing through my mind for most of the evening.
Long story short, as everyone was enjoying the end of their meal and the post dinner conversation, I once again put my foot in my mouth with the very same person from the previous Thursday, and things quickly went south. A nice evening basically ruined in a 30 second statement.
I felt pretty lost after that, so paid up and walked out off the pub intent on going home to be where others weren't. Sleep was shit at best, and I woke up Tuesday feeling pretty lousy for two reasons: one, my boss was about to get a pounding in a city 4 hours away, and second, I was finding myself once again on the brink of losing a friend that I don't want to lose.
The day was actually rather quiet, maybe too quiet. Besides a 15 minute conversation with my boss around 8am, I heard nothing else from him the rest of the day. Meanwhile, I wasn't thinking too much about work, anyway. Too many other thoughts on the brain.
At any rate, I found enough tunes to help me plow through the day, and the next, and even today.
The end of the year quickly approaches, and we're all racing around trying to get a bunch of stuff done before everyone jumps on their holidays. I'm away next Wednesday to Spain, and there's a lot to do between now and then. And who am I kidding, I'll be on the clock (and probably participating in a conference call or three) while I'm mucking about in Valencia, but at least I'll be mucking around in another city. It's time to get out of town for a few days.
Here's hoping I can pull everything together between now and next Wednesday.
keep the faith
bryan
For the next week, I clocked 14 hour days and impressed myself by getting up each day at 5am and walking into the office around 6.45. I convinced myself that I was being productive, and in all actuality, I was. However, by the following Thursday, I was noticeably tired, and about 10 people in a row commented as such. Thankfully, most of the remarks were caring and genuine; only a couple were of the "geez, you like total hell" type.
I popped into the pub last Thursday and ended up playing a bit of quiz and chatting with some folks I hadn't seen in a while. Unfortunately, I bumped into someone I wasn't expecting to see, and, after 80 hours of work in about 5 days, you don't always come across as you'd like to. Thus, I sort of made a shambles of a conversation with a friend, and foolishly drank myself through the experience as opposed to wising up and fucking off home to safety.
Alas, I was scheduled off for the Friday, but, upon waking at 11am, pulled myself together and went into the office. We'd just been notified of a business review scheduled the next week in Brussels. Crap timing, I'd say, since this was the third "day off" I'd taken in the past 4 weeks, which basically meant I went to work and told people I was on holiday anyway.
True, I was a bit hungover last Friday, but did manage to get some things done during the afternoon. I spent a relatively quiet weekend watching a few films and visiting the gym. I attempted to do a bit of Christmas shopping, but lost interest about 15 minutes after entering a crowded store, and elected to return home, where I stayed in most of the rest of the weekend.
Sunday afternoon I tried to do some work on the presentation we'd need to give in Brussels, but everything felt a bit disjointed. An executive in our company made a last minute decision that the PMs wouldn't make the business review trip. Instead, only the sales guy and the two General Managers of the repair sites would make the trek to lovely office park land right next to Brussels international airport.
After a few hours trying to put some stuff together, I basically gave up and decided to go to the gym. That turned out to be a pretty good outing, and around 8pm, I finished up and stopped off at the pub for a couple of pints and a chat. I was able to collect my thoughts a bit, and suddenly found myself really feeling in the spirit of the season.
I had a nice chat with a few folks, and all in all, it wrapped up the weekend rather nicely. At least things ended on a decent note.
Monday had me up and at 'em at the crack of dawn, and once again I strolled into the office at a quarter to 7, pretty fired up on coffee and Alkaline Trio. The day was relatively stressful (which is like saying Bryan is just a casual smoker), but brightened considerably that evening when I entered the pub to see a few friends sitting around to partake in steak night. My local offers a pretty decent sizzling steak on Monday evenings at a special price. I'm not the world's biggest red meat fan, but must admit that the steaks are pretty good.
I was already feeling a bit pensive and distant from everyone, but was enjoying the company all the same. However, it was hard to dismiss the fact that my boss was about to meet our customer the next morning in Brussels, and things are not particularly stellar in our repair program at the given moment, for a variety of reasons. I figured that he'd take a big bollocking during the meeting based on our recent performace. We all know that I've been married to the job for a long time, and I take this stuff way too personally. As a result, I've got one of the better programs going in Europe, but at the expense of me. Despite my efforts, though, the customer still expects more. Up til now, I've not quite been able to find the right balance. These thoughts were all racing through my mind for most of the evening.
Long story short, as everyone was enjoying the end of their meal and the post dinner conversation, I once again put my foot in my mouth with the very same person from the previous Thursday, and things quickly went south. A nice evening basically ruined in a 30 second statement.
I felt pretty lost after that, so paid up and walked out off the pub intent on going home to be where others weren't. Sleep was shit at best, and I woke up Tuesday feeling pretty lousy for two reasons: one, my boss was about to get a pounding in a city 4 hours away, and second, I was finding myself once again on the brink of losing a friend that I don't want to lose.
The day was actually rather quiet, maybe too quiet. Besides a 15 minute conversation with my boss around 8am, I heard nothing else from him the rest of the day. Meanwhile, I wasn't thinking too much about work, anyway. Too many other thoughts on the brain.
At any rate, I found enough tunes to help me plow through the day, and the next, and even today.
The end of the year quickly approaches, and we're all racing around trying to get a bunch of stuff done before everyone jumps on their holidays. I'm away next Wednesday to Spain, and there's a lot to do between now and then. And who am I kidding, I'll be on the clock (and probably participating in a conference call or three) while I'm mucking about in Valencia, but at least I'll be mucking around in another city. It's time to get out of town for a few days.
Here's hoping I can pull everything together between now and next Wednesday.
keep the faith
bryan
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