You're Not Getting Away That Easy

Today reminded me a lot of the Normandy landing scene from "Saving Private Ryan". I liken doing my job to storming the beach, rifle in hand. Bombs are falling all around me and my colleagues are falling one by one. It seemed like everyone was having a really, really bad day. Me? Things were going pretty well. I got some stuff done including a complicated itinerary for an upcoming trip.

I manage to steer clear of the falling ordinance until 4:30pm, which is my usual "get the Hell out of there" time. I straighten up my desk just in time to see our CPA standing next to my desk holding several files, all of them with protruding wicks, lit and sparking onto my desk.

"The numbers are all wrong, can we review these"? is what he should say. Instead, he says "Hi. I have a large bomb in my hands that I need to shove into a convenient orafice. Could you bend over please?"

In retrospect, I might have mixed those two statements up.

So I spend 30 minutes in an impromptu meeting that completely treetops me for the day. Does it get any better when I get home? Nope, not a bit.

Note to self: Leave at 4:28pm everyday. If I hear ticking, don't look back.