FUBAR

Monday, back to work. Tuesday, I get word that the South Carolina customer was extremely unhappy with our installation. Hardware maladies were popping up allover the building, and they want more supervisor training. On top of it all, Mitch bailed out in the midst of everything. I respect the guy for how he thinks, what he is capable of, and what he’s accomplished in his career, but as a project manager, I think he’s misplaced. He needs to be above this role, in one where his influence is greater and more useful. I’m not buying his “I’m doing this because I want a simpler job” bullshit. He needs to be in Cincinnati barking orders to the divisions. As a lowly project manager, he’s like a trained Doberman on a short chain expected to perform the role of a cuddly Spaniel. Clearly, he's becomming fed up with being smarter than his superiors, and it shows in how he gets bored or distracted from the day-to-day PM duties.

So, I get the call early from Dick, “We need you in South Carolina tomorrow”. Shit. The project that just won’t die. So a couple of days and sleepless nights later, after somewhat diffusing the situation, here I am. Fubar’d hardware manufacturing is going to have me tied up in Spartanburg again next week, and I have another packed weekend ahead of me. I guess I can buy a bed and work on my apartment some other lifetime. Weather delays have me getting home at close to 2am tonight, and Lo won’t be able to stay over. Woe is me. But hey, in retrospect, if these are the worst cards I’m dealt for this coming weekend, then I’ll take ‘em. Time to board.