Klowns in my Koffee

Just think ... Phil Mickelson has three jackets in a color that most guys wouldn't have one of.
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When you go to an Americanized Chinese buffet, they often have pizza. How 'come when you go to an Italian buffet they never have egg rolls?
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I was thinking about the nature of time this morning. I've learned that Monday isn't inherently evil or difficult. It can be a rather pleasant and lighthearted day when you don't have to go somewhere that you absolutely hate. There was an odd rhythm to the business life I experienced in the last few years. On Monday, all the complaints and new issues would hit the fan. Tuesday and Wednesday always had a lot of meetings since people tried to stay away from the already burdened Monday and Friday. By Tuesday, they had also figured out who was going to be blamed for whatever was unearthed on Monday. Since I had to prepare for those meetings, I was usually up until 2 or 3 in the morning on Monday night. I scrambled to stay one step ahead so that I wouldn't have to stay up all night on Wednesday to be able to submit the invoices in time for the check run on Thursday. But I usually had to stay up. (On the day before I was let go, I worked from 9 AM to 2 AM nearly straight through. I was torn between wishing I had stayed up all night to get all of the invoices done and wishing I'd never bothered to do any of them at all.) By Thursday afternoon, things had begun to lighten up and people were generally more at ease by Friday. Weekends were times to cram in as much actual life as possible before the Sunday evening grim realization that tomorrow it would start all over again. The stress levels were like this. Over and over and over and over. The week as the nearly indivisible unit of corporate time.

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Now I set weekly goals as I always have done but I'm not constrained by the artificiality of the deadline. The day is now the unit of measure and the flow is the sinusoid, not the pulse.

Jennifer Krempin Brigman, Editor-in-Chief of the blog Tripping On The Ladder has a heartfelt take on this issue:
http://www.trippingontheladder.com/2010/03/one-of-the-best-gifts-of-career-transition-the-gift-of-time/

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I have raccoons in my attic -- and the time to enjoy them as noted above. (This should be a clarification for those who thought I had bats in my belfry.) I had a fascinating interview with an animal control professional today that I hope to document in one of the next postings. No one discusses the sex life of raccoons for an hour without coming away a little changed by the experience. Let's hope in a good way.