Awake

Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends. I've been awake at some time every night this week, but have refrained from blogging on previous occasions. I could blame it on the weather change, or the moon phase, or the boogie (a defence which may yet save Jacko's hide); but the word of the week is "stress".

For all the cheerfulness of my bloggings, it's been a bad week at work. I was telling the physiotherapist yesterday, as he pressed my right kneecap against my left earlobe, about everything that has gone wrong; and that the root cause of it all is that I've been letting the customers and my partners run my life, saying "yessir" and jumping to do whatever they said, rather than stopping to evaluate whether their observations were correct and their suggestions sensible. The net result of a week's work is that the database is almost exactly where it was: I have had to undo nearly every change I made. His (the physiotherapist's) suggestion was that I take a holiday; it's clear in retrospect that I might just as well have done.