Things what I writ

I sometimes write nonsense about things to try and sound clever

travelogue 9

travelogue 9
travelogue 9 by Tim Caynes

nice jacket. hmph. after a successful day in a conference room where we all decided we all had the same problems but we hadn’t published a list of solutions since 1996 and that we should probably really think about getting on the same project management dashboard for at least the things that we know we can collaborate on which is apparently most of them it was time to round up some of the outcomes and assign some actions and depart for the next set of meetings feeling like you’ve at least justified the travel expenses and the rest of the week will probably be spent cruising into meeting rooms on the second floor called something like Shirttail Hammer Creek Ironing Disaster where we’ll solve all our globalization problems with a sudden collective brain schism and we can all go home and have sausage with the pope.

except it doesn’t happen like that. the first thing that doesn’t happen is that the adaptor adaptor I need for the electric shaver that yes I packed myself and no nobody has had the chance to tamper with has not been found and so as the day progresses I’m looking more like I chose to look like something out of miami vice which of course would be a social disaster but maybe I can just carry it off but looking really tired and pretending that actually jetlag affects me coming this way and not going that way and so I might even turn it into a sympathy vote thing except its obvious that I always look this tired anyway and so that’s not going to be any good as an excuse for bristling in an engineering meeting about acceptabe exceptions to the globalization rule where everybody else will have chins like beech worktops rubbed with baby oil but hey, I’ll just use the intellectual juxtaposition card and make sure I wear the nice brown jacket and my glasses that make me look like a cross between something out of 1960s britain, 1970s france and 1990s netherlands but mainly the british bit like damien hurst except his cost like £500 and mine were 35 quid from dolland and aitchison which says it all really.

dammit. it must be in here somewhere. idiot

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