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After a retagging run, work suddenly seems so pure and simple. See, I face single customers one on one there, linear, and there are simple answers (most of the time) that can be looked up, factual and technical answers. suggestions is a party of what-if, and can-we, and a weird timelapse. I have to think hard about it.

Of course, what work has in linear clients, it makes up for in colleagues who are physically there, occasionally physically throwing a riot. The other night, in a lull when no one actually needed supervisory attention, all supervisor tasks were caught up on for the nonce, and our supervisor was bored out of his skull, a charming confluence of physics, technical toys, late night, lack of management, and the aforementioned bored men came to pass.

A certain large office supply store has these red buttons that say "That was easy!" when tapped. (Big. Red. Shiny.) There is, somewhere out there, a big, dark blue, shiny knockoff that says, "That was fucking easy!" when tapped.

... or smacked with a flying nerf-ball.

... or smacked with a flying nerf-ball that has been bounced off the wall and into the cube where said button has been left.

... or smacked with a flying nerf-ball that has been bounced off the floor, the wall, and into the cube and no few of the pieces of relatively delicate instrumentation parked there.

... or bounced off the shiny bald head of the young man who looks much too much like Lex Luthor.

I have mentioned lately how much I love my job?
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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