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2004-03-19 - 9:51 p.m.

Where the dust wolves roam

Wow I say, surveying the newly polished bedroom furniture, gleaming for the first time in more weeks (months) than I will admit in public. The dust bunnies are gone. The ones on the nightstand had begun to develop language skills.

Are you kidding? Roland say. Those were not dust bunnies. They were dust wolves that had eaten the dust bunnies and were roaming in packs.


So, we cleaned more bits of the house today. It's been a slow process, chipping away at all the deep cleaning areas our overly busy life has caused us to neglect. Always makes me think of that joke How do you eat an elephant? .... one bite at a time

Dust wolves. Humph.


I worked half a day to cover a meeting requiring twelve particular people, all of whom are as busy or busier than I (and that's saying something), to hash a design philosophy problem - the one I mentioned some weeks ago where everyone is so determined to be right, we're not listening to each other.

I think we eeked out 50% progress towards a solution, though we're still not listening to each other.

My newest team member, who's never been through this thorny part of the design process, curled up in the corner with a bag of peanuts, grinning in amusement as the fur began to fly.

What freaks him out the most is the pre-meeting chatter where we speak fondly to each other of kids, families, and social friviloties. Then, we start the work and go for each other's throats.

Or, as my chief engineer put it It always amazes me how much emotion is invested in design. And I've been one of the msot guilty in the past.

Now, I just need to work on adjusting my attitude about the entire process. I had to cancel my massage therapy today for this meeting, the only time my chief engineer (who was holding up the entire process until he could be involved) was available, which made me pissy. When I woke up this morning with muscle spasms, I became down right bitter.

But you know what Eleanor Roosevelt said? No one can take advantage of you without your consent.

I agreed to the meeting time, so I can't hold everyone else responsible. Now, if the adult part of my brain could just convince the small childish part of that truth, I could kick the last of this sulky mood.

Ah, but I have the entire weekend to accomplish that.

Scribble to Theo

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