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I spent most of today working on business process designs.
Are you just thrilled to pieces? Are you salivating to hear all about this fascinating topic? No, really. I mean it.
I didn't think it would take that long. Seriously. I'm so naive. Or optimistic. Or clueless - I don't know. But first there was lively debate on vocabulary terms. At that point I noted that I didn't care if we called the steps George, Henry, and Fred - these were the steps we were currently using and could we get past this for pete's sake. Then there was a need to find a white board and a projector. I do not understand this mindset. Perhaps it is the repressed science nerd in me, or else the code geek coming to the surface, but why must things be planned using white boards and projectors? Why can't we all scribble it on regular notebook paper and think it through before making pretty diagrams on the fly? I suppose that programs like Visio are useful and all, but not for people like me who prefer detailed steps to flow charts. Flow charts mean nothing to me. They are lovely shapes on paper, yes, and make more visually appealing slides, but in reality they tell me very little information. Give me numbered steps any day and I'll be much happier.
By the end of that lovely twelve-hour work day I was exhausted and really not thinking of much of anything except getting home and maybe banging my head on the most convenient wall for a while, just to make the pain all go away. But a friend invited me to go to a club with him, and on a whim, I said yes. It was amateur night and I'd never been to something like this, and well, it was on the way. So what the heck.
A handful of people performed at this club last night, and I think I can safely say that, with very few exceptions, the quality of the music performed was mediocre at its best. There was the guy who stood up in the beginning and started to make noise. I won't even call it music - it involved random harmonic screeches and guitar strumming, but there was no tune involved. Then he got really annoyed because no one was paying any attention to him. I think that everyone was still trying to figure out if he was just tuning - because surely that wasn't a *song*. So he stomped off in a huff. Later on, a woman sang who apparently believed that she was Ella Fitzgerald reincarnated. Except that this involved lots of hand movements, facial expressions that looked as if she had just swallowed something extremely sour, and then occasional bouts of bouncing about on the balls of her feet. I suppose I've got to give them all credit for enthusiasm, and for being willing to stand in front of a room of strangers and sing songs they've poured their hearts into. Anyway, the evening made the day that much better, so despite the occasional cringe at missed or offkey tones, it was well worth it.