Written on My Face

I’m tired. There’s just no other way to put it than that.

I’ve worked long hours; when I get home, I help with the painting as best as I can. I’m not the world’s best painter, but hopefully I’m contributing something to the cause. I wish that I were contributing more, but when I get home past 7:00 p.m., it’s somewhat hard to get much done before useful light diffuses through the trees and is gone.

Unfortunately, I’m now at the point–mainly because of work–that the nice-guy front and veneer is mostly gone outside of the workplace. Sure, I’m still trying to do the right things and all that, but unfortunately I’m very prone to simply speaking my mind. Sometimes, it causes trouble in places where it really shouldn’t, or rubs people that I care about the wrong way. It’s what I say and how I say it, and unfortunately, I’m allowing my level of tiredness [not exhaustion–not nearly to that point yet] to serve as a crutch and an excuse.

As my late grandfather would say, “Poor excuse is better than none.” Yet it still pisses me off.

I certainly didn’t help matters last night. I went home and got there in time to actually help with painting [if not all that well or that quickly]. After that, I called Rick and asked if he wanted me to bring him the remote and A/V cables for the DVD player he bought from me. He said yes, so I drove out to his end of the county, plopped on the couch in his living room, and talked his ear off for a while. [Rick, you’re taller than I am, and while you’re used to it, if you want a word in edge-wise, reach over and hit me in the head.]

When I left there–at 10:30, which should have been bedtime–I called Sean to see if he and Katharine were still awake. They were, so I dropped in to see their little house. It’s cute, and I like it very much. [Were I in a mode to live by myself, I would consider such a place. But I would rather live with the rabble-rousing crew I live with now, because they’re wonderful, even when I can be a dick about things.] It was another hour or so later when I left their place, and I still had to cross half of the county [and fill the car up with gas] before I could loft myself into my bed and sleep. Even then, it was another good hour before I could settle down and drift off.

Today, I’m very tired, and I’m staring the 40-hour mark in the face. I’ve hit 40 hours on Friday before, but never on Thursday. It’s a bit daunting.

—–

Let me try [if I can] to explain why we’re so busy.

We have seven major pieces of flight hardware to deliver before the first of October [yes, my birthday … which I will probably spend at home, sleeping, if I can]. We were supposed to ship one piece out for a fit-check with another piece of hardware today … that will probably happen tomorrow. [As of this time last week, we thought we had three weeks and not just one to make that happen.] We’ve got another shipment scheduled to go out on Monday, and it’s going to be iffy at best.

Because we’re expending lots of resources in trying to make these deadlines, I’m afraid that other stuff is going to fall off the chart. My job, as “Chief Schedule Lead”, is presumably to raise questions when these things start to slip. [I got that “promotion” yesterday. I found out about it only because I read an email sent from our Director of Manufacturing to the Chief Manufacturing Engineer that was sitting on the printer. I asked the person who saw it when I did if the bullseye had already been placed on my back, and if they painted it right.] Sure, the scheduler’s usually not the one who asks these questions–that’s the manager’s job–but our managers have too many other things going on for me not to ask about it.

Put simply, my job is simply to make sure that other folks have what they need to do their job and then to status them and see if they’ve gotten it done. It’s hard to do that without being an absolute jackass to them, and unfortunately, I think I mistakenly marshaled all the nice guy resources to the work site and assigned Mr. Jackass to duty on the home front. Something tells me that I made a mistake in doing that, but both Mr. Nice Guy and Mr. Jackass remind me that my resource-loaded schedule tells them where to be at all times, and that no significant perturbations from the schedule can be absorbed by the project.

Wait, that joke is only going to make sense to me. Oh well, I’m laughing at it … on the inside.

All that said, I could have a much worse job. I could be financially devastated. I could be living in a cardboard box. I still have a lot to be thankful for … unfortunately, I forgot to put that in the schedule. Oh well, I guess I can insert that task.

[If this made sense, and you read this far, may God bless you.]

2 comments

  1. There are good times and bad times during projects as there are in Life. Yesterday, you sounded like you had hung the moon. Today, you sound like it fell on you.

    I only recently learned to remember the good as well as the bad. I think you are learning it much earlier.

    Hang in there.

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