Week from Hell
by Scott Hardie on August 19, 2006
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It's my first week as manager, but there's no time for a honeymoon. On Monday, I got zero sleep the night before, and ran on fumes the whole day. Tuesday was spent almost entirely managing a single project and letting other fires burn. On Wednesday, I had to make five people to work with me until ten o'clock at night to finish said project in crisis. On Thursday, we presented said project to the stakeholders feeling proud of ourselves for finishing on time, and they dismissed our rough work and told us not to show it to them until it was finished (ouch). On Friday, I had to fire someone over the project, a guy I really liked. If I'm not around much this weekend, it's because I'm spending it under the covers.
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
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Retrospection
If I recall the dates correctly, yesterday would have been my grandmother's 100th birthday. She lived to just shy of her 89th, despite a lifetime of chain smoking. I remember her as a sweet, generous woman who liked to laugh and teach me life's simple pleasures; a typical afternoon for us was playing crazy eights and baking cinnamon rolls. Go »
Abe, Honest
During my visit to Springfield last weekend, Kelly and I went to a historical reenactment on the outskirts of town. Every small city that can do so builds shrines to its homegrown celebrity, but Springfield takes worship of Abraham Lincoln to new levels of ridiculousness. Besides the museum with the ordinary tools used by Lincoln during his early twenties, the historical community had the actual buildings he slept in and worked in. Go »
DMV Mystery
My last car, a 1996 Mercury, was registered in my mother's name, so every year in December (the month of her birthday), the registration sticker would be delivered to her at her house and she'd have to pass it to me to put on the license plate. No big deal. A few months ago, I bought a 2007 Dodge in my name, though she co-signed the credit application since I had no credit history. Go »
R.I.P. Katie
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So Tired
Just need to vent. I worked until 2am last Sunday night, writing a document for work. This writing is by far the most miserable task at my company, and this particular instance of it was extra-complicated. Go »