Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Did Dante know about Microsoft Word?
Stuck in the middle of creating a document that is supposed to "make everything crystal clear" (at least that's what the boss wants), I have spent the last hour tying myself up in knots. Am sorely in need of a shot of inspiration.
If writing involved muscle, there are chemical options to choose from. What does one do to jump start the brain? Caffeine? Have tried it already - no good. It's only going to tip the scales a tad, as I try to choose between sleeping and worrying tonight.
Wilkie Collins is said to have put opium to very effective use...He claims to have written an entire novel when under the influence, having no recollection of actually writing it. Now, there's an attractive thought. While there's a very slim possibility that I might actually be capable of typing a sentence or two, I somehow doubt that post-laudenaum, my mind will ponder on the fine points of system architecture design, let alone produce a document that will "make everything crystal clear"...
Walking away from a problem, and coming back for a fresh look is supposed to help. In this case, I know that if I walk away from this desk right now, I may never want to come back. So that's out too.
As the clock ticks away, the idea of smashing my computer, and telling my boss that my hard drive crashed, and I lost all my work (including some truly brilliant documentation), is becoming more and more attractive.
Surely, violence is no answer. Besides which, I will still have to produce the damned document tomorrow...
Arrgh! I just want to finish this silly thing, and be done with it already! Hell is a half-empty Word document.
If writing involved muscle, there are chemical options to choose from. What does one do to jump start the brain? Caffeine? Have tried it already - no good. It's only going to tip the scales a tad, as I try to choose between sleeping and worrying tonight.
Wilkie Collins is said to have put opium to very effective use...He claims to have written an entire novel when under the influence, having no recollection of actually writing it. Now, there's an attractive thought. While there's a very slim possibility that I might actually be capable of typing a sentence or two, I somehow doubt that post-laudenaum, my mind will ponder on the fine points of system architecture design, let alone produce a document that will "make everything crystal clear"...
Walking away from a problem, and coming back for a fresh look is supposed to help. In this case, I know that if I walk away from this desk right now, I may never want to come back. So that's out too.
As the clock ticks away, the idea of smashing my computer, and telling my boss that my hard drive crashed, and I lost all my work (including some truly brilliant documentation), is becoming more and more attractive.
Surely, violence is no answer. Besides which, I will still have to produce the damned document tomorrow...
Arrgh! I just want to finish this silly thing, and be done with it already! Hell is a half-empty Word document.
