Itinerary…

Spend enough time doing what I do and you’ll learn that flight plans are never for sure until you are taxing up to the terminal at your destination. I filed all my paperwork this morning that put Uncle’s official stamp of approval on my travel plans… Thirty minutes later I was walking to the shredder with those plans.

You should always be suspicious when the boss wanders over to you and starts the conversation with “since you’re going to be on the road Monday anyway…” So, instead of a nice quiet flight back to Memphis on Monday morning, I’m going to reroute through Atlanta for a 10 hour layover so I can take a meeting downtown before heading back to the airport to catch my newly scheduled evening flight to Memphis.

There ought to be a law against forcing someone to go through two airport screenings in one day… especially when one of them is Atlanta.

I’m no slut…

Unlike a lot of people who work for a living, I’m freely admit that I’m a whore. It’s very simple, really: I trade my time for someone else’s money. I’ll do anything, anytime, anywhere, and although I am easy, I’m not cheap. I absolutely don’t believe in giving my time away for nothing. Not for God. Not for Country. Not for the satisfaction of seeing a job well done. I work for one reason: You pay me. Next time you ask me to do a job in an afternoon that would usually takes a couple of people a couple of days, let’s keep in mind that the clock is running. I’m lucky to enjoy the work and I’ll give you as much time as you want. Just remember that it’s going to cost you.

Present at the Creation…

In 1969 Dean Acheson published a memoir of his career at the State Department that covered his entry as an assistant secretary and ending with his elevation to Secretary during the second Truman administration. Serving from 1941-53, he saw the dawn of the modern political age. Empires that spanned three centuries and all corners of the globe crumbled in the wake of a war that left Europe unable to even feed itself, let alone meet its manufacturing and financial needs. Into this breach stepped the United States in the form of the Marshall Plan to rebuild a continent, become the guarantor of high seas commerce, and hold the line against the Soviet Union. For his part, Dean was in on the creation of the modern world.

I don’t claim the high credentials of Mr. Acheson nor am I quite vain enough to think that anything I have done will have those kind of sweeping consequences on the international order. Having a good deal of free time lately to really consider where I am and what I have been doing for the last two years, I can make the general assessment that I am inordinately pleased. In my own way, I’ve been a part of something that will cast its shadow long after I depart from the scene. These few years have been the most intense, most disappointing, most gratifying, most frustrating, and most intellectually challenging experience of my life. I’ve had the opportunity to work with some of the most gifted minds I have ever known. I’ve met more than my share of colleagues who embody the Peter Principle and who have far exceeded their level of incompetence. Through the pitched battle to carry one vision from concept to reality, it has been a great honor and privilege to work shoulder to shoulder with a small group of people who have earned my unquestioned friendship and respect.

We’re off the ground now and our creation is beginning to take on a life of its own. New faces and new ideas are being brought into play. Those of us who were present at the creation are moving off into our own orbits now; managing our finances, planning for the worst case scenario, and chasing an elusive dream that lives somewhere out there on the sunny east coast. We’ve been a part of something special; that most people will never experience anything close. I just can’t say enough good things about you guys.

I’m booorrrrred…

I don’t mind being tired when I have a good reason. Things haven’t been unusually busy at the office, the house has pretty well come together, there isn’t anything just sitting out there screaming to be done right now, today. Everything is utterly and completely “normal” and I wonder sometimes if that isn’t when I get tired. It’s like I need something causing a degree of chaos to keep a stable level of adrenalin in the system. When things aren’t running a thousand miles an hour, all I want to do is crawl into bed and take a nap. Actually, that sounds like a fantastic idea. If anyone needs me, I’ll be sleeping like a stone.

All shook up…

One of the really problematic parts of what I do, is that it requires spending a fair amount of your life thinking about all the worst things that can happen… famine, pestilence, earthquake, plague; basically the worst parts of the Bible. After a while you start looking at everything around you and playing a giant game of “what if.” From a purely academic point of view, it’s great fun to match wits against the worst that God and nature can throw against us. From an individual point of view, it’s the kind of thing that leads to ulcers. Finding that delicate balance between academic interest and outright obsession has never been one of my talents. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to Costco and stock up on bottled water and beef jerky.

Boo-friggin-hoo…

The USA Today is the ash heap of American print journalism. Unfortunately, it’s a large ash heap and nearly unavoidable if you spend any time in a hotel. Yesterday’s business section dedicated a good portion of the front page and the entire second page feature to the “plight” of workaholics in the United States. According to the article, “about 60% of high-earning individuals work more than 50 hours a week…” Let’s stop right here and do some quick analysis… I mean, is anyone surprised that those individuals between the ages of 25-34 making more than $75,000/year and those over 35 and up making more than $100,000 per year spend more than 50 hours a week at work? Maybe I’m the only one who noticed the general trend that the more I work, the more I make. That was true when I was flipping burgers at McDonald’s and it’s true now that I have a nice cushy desk job. My point, I suppose, is how the hell can anyone be surprised that income is related to how much someone works? Is this really news to anyone who has spent any time thinking about ways to make more money?

The other aspect of the article that raised my hackles was the “high-earning individuals” complaining that they have had to sacrifice personal time and relationships because of work or that they don’t get enough sleep. Know what? That’s a choice you made in order to become a high-income individual, my friend. No one is making you work 60 billable hours per week. If it’s too much for you to deal with, step off the fast track so you can spend more time at the kid’s soccer games. Bottom line is that you make the choice to work in a high pressure workplace. The trade off is that maybe you will get passed over for that next promotion or maybe you’ll have to adjust your lifestyle to meet your new income. Bitch and complain about long hours all you want, I know I do. But don’t try to pass it off as some big, bad employer tethering you to your desk with wireless chains. Take some responsibility for your own actions and make the change if you don’t think you can hack it with the big boys.

It’s a show about nothing…

After a full 24 hours of having no commitments other than showing up to work at what seems like the ridiculously late hour of 8:30, and walking around Capitol Hill for the better part of an hour and a half taking pictures, and walking to the Chinese place down the street for General Tso’s, it occurs to me that when I don’t have class (and don’t really have any reason to work OT), I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself. I think someone once referred to the concept as “free time.” I don’t really even have clue one what I want to do. Well, that’s not entirely true, but in the interests of maintaining this blog’s PG-13 rating, I’ll spare you the details.

Suffice to say that it’s taken a grand total of 24 hours for me to start going stir crazy. I just can’t quite shake the feeling that I should be doing something. I’m not sure, but I think I might have the DTs.

4740…

That’s the number of air miles I will have earned for the month of May when this week’s road stand wraps up. True, taken as a single trip, that distance would be something approximating the trip from here to London – only a 7 ½ hour hop. My 4740 will all be accrued on the trip between Memphis International and Reagan. There’s a certain wear and tear of three weeks of back and forth, of packing, doing laundry, and repacking. I’m a little frayed at the edges, but that’s nothing that won’t be solved by spending a long weekend firmly planted on the ground.

Here’s hoping I won’t see 6320.

No time for love, Dr. Jones…

It’s been a busy week. Very busy, actually. I’d love to have time to write and rant, but that won’t be in the cards for a day or two yet. Between class and work and travel for work, I’m reasonably convinced I may have passed myself going the other direction pulling into the driveway tonight. My current class wraps up on Monday, so I’m looking forward to a week of relative easy living. I can’t begin to tell you people how much I am looking forward to that.

Indispensible…

Some days it’s hard to believe that the government ever managed function before I came to work. Apparently I like thinking I’m indispensible way more than I like actually being the man of the hour. Quite frankly it’s just too damned much work. I’m off to the District again tomorrow to avert another crisis.

And for those of you who already think I take myself too seriously, please note that I write this with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek.