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2006-01-20 - 5:16 p.m. Notes left on the lab door "Randomly, because it's Friday and we deserve them, there are baked goodies next door. Thanks for pushing so hard to keep on schedule. P.S. S- Will be extra bouncy today because of the sugar. Good luck with that. P.P.S. Don't eat in the lab." One awful truth of being a lead - instead of making things happen, you are most often dealing with the circumstances you're handed and, somehow, still getting it done. Complex political and external forces are simultaneously taking away my team's resources and still demanding they finish on time, despite the interruptions and with less to work with. In english that means we're getting screwed with our pants on. Without dinner first or dessert after. Also, no flowers have been offered. One loaf of chocolate bread and two dozen scones seemed a small compensation for my inability to prevent this happening to them or to get them out of it. And, frankly, this aspect of my work is the *least* of my problems. The problem that sent my office spinning a few months ago is almost solved. Only. Only to be replaced by an even bigger one that, right now, is looking completely untenable. We don't even understand it fully. The gang focused on this is currently demanding significant cookies as tribute. I guess this is why they call it rocket science. Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster. Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do? Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well. Hugh Fennyman: How? Philip Henslowe: I don't know. It's a mystery - dialogue from Shakespeare in Love � � Scribble to Theo previous - next �