thisiskindaboring

I’m taking a much-needed break from work for a few minutes to reflect. At the end of March, I took a ½ day off from my last consulting position to drive up to the Bay Area so I could start a new consulting job the next day. The people who interviewed me over the phone for this position let me know the project was… in trouble.

Typical. I love the problem-child projects. Anyway, I set their expectations pretty low on how much my involvement would help at such a late stage in the process. And then I jumped in, knowing exactly what I was getting into.

Ha. This job has been hard. Pretty much the toughest project I’ve worked on in my career. But I really did know that I would be challenging myself to do the impossible this time. We just launched a software tool to the company last week and it hasn’t blown up yet. Good sign. Very good.

I was just looking over what I need to do so I can transfer my work back to the project team at the end of next week before I get outta here and I laughed out loud. Like lol, laughing, you know?

I wrote detailed training materials for a system I’ve never used. I put presentations together, detailing processes as they used to be and as they will be in the future. For processes that I have never been a part of and don’t quite understand. I managed to track down and communicate with over a thousand staff members in 12 time zones, many the project team didn’t even know existed. I wrote 3 nice things about everyone who helped with the project, never having met 80% of them.

Today, I took a walking tour of some ghetto neighborhood in search of helium balloons and streamers. I found balloons (no helium), streamers, every strip club in San Francisco, and a club dedicated to Jack Kerouac. Then, I partied (well, had lunch with) the CIO.

I should have some down time after next week. I think my next job is starting the second week of June. Maybe I’ll take my tent and sleeping bag and my dog out to the river and camp for awhile. Also, a banjo. Yeah. Definitely need a banjo.

Adventures in sleeping

I have stayed with the same couch surfing host in San Francisco 3 times now.

The first time I stayed, my friend Melissa and I were sharing the sofa bed in the living room. We went to bed in the wee hours of the morning. I got up to use the loo and I must have been disoriented (verrry drunk) and ended up choosing the dining room table as my bed for the rest of the night. Melissa got up, wondered where I was, and saw me sleeping on the table like a body in a coffin- perfectly straight, hands at sides. I remember wondering why the bed was so uncomfortable.

The next time I stayed, it was a surprise visit. I decided to rock it out and dance til 6am with Melissa and went back to the house with her to crash for a few hours. That time, I had to wee again and, on the way back to the living room, decided I'd just sleep on one side of my host's bed. He wasn't using it and didn't mind sharing the blankets.

This time, I took a full tour of sleeping surfaces. Our first night there, the Aussie couch surfer and I were sharing the guest bed. Only, when we got back from a dance club at 3am, there were people still up, hanging out in the living room! I was feeling super social (verrry drunk) and stayed up to chat while the Aussie went to sleep. I guess the little after party ended while I was napping (passed out) on the couch- half sitting with my head tilted against the cushions. Snoring, I'm sure. My host's best friend was on the other side of the couch, same sleeping position as me. I covered him up with the blanket and made it to the guest bed for about 2 hours of comfy sleep.

Last night, we were moved to the living room to sleep, as we had 2 more people sleeping over. We got in late, as usual, and everyone went straight to bed. I was rocking out to my iPod and wanted to have a bath and just 2 more glasses of wine before bed. I got in the bath at around 4:30 in the morning and woke up to cold water a couple hours later. Dang! At least I was clean...

I relocated to the mattress in the living room, right next to the Aussie and Melissa.

I may or may not have to purposely sleep somewhere odd the next I am in the city. My host recommended the laundry room.

Bad decisions

I'm going to make some this weekend.

Off to San Francisco, I go. There are many lady couch surfers I will be meeting up with in the city. Parties, music, dancing (only a little. plomise.), substance abuse... Ah, long weekends. How I love thee.

The Aussie couch surfer who I had super lots of fun with a couple of weeks ago will arrive at my home tonight and we're driving up together in the morning. We've been invited to several parties and I'm not sure which we'll choose. But I'm saving most of my liver, etc. for Sunday night.

For the arrival of the great and powerful Dirt Princess. Praise cheeses, let's share bathroom stalls in crowded clubs and PLEASE remember I'm in there with you this time :)

Can't wait.