by the Night Writer
Sheesh, what a week. It’s budget time at work, which means I have to forecast how much money my department will need next year, how much I’d actually be willing to live with, and how much of a bite the levels above me are going to take just to show they’re serious. And it all has to be turned in the day after Labor Day. Fortunately, the instruction manual for this year’s budget process has been cut down to 236 pages … in a PDF file.
Oh, and someone had the bright idea to move our offices AND install new telephones all at the same time back on Monday. Never fear, the instruction booklet that comes with the phone is 10% of the size of the budget manual and is printed in 16 languages, none of which I understand. So far I’ve unpacked my calculator and my coffee cup; the rest can wait. WHY does that red light keep flashing at me?
I’m thinking it’s high time for a Keegan’s run Thursday night. Who’s with me?
Have you filled out Form 37-stroke-J, in triplicate, requesting authorization to make a Keegan’s run? (And don’t forget to attach supporting documentation.)
No can do tonight; I’ve got some work to take care of.