Strangeness abounds
I was in Munich for three hours yesterday, hand-delivering a CD—which turned out to be the wrong CD. Sorry, start again.
I solved the database problem and built new Mac and Windows installers, and all was just peachy. I then considered how to get the CD to Munich, and discovered that I could get a special last-minute deal on the train that cost only six Euros more than the courier would charge for next-day delivery. So I booked the tickets, and then discovered that the CD didn't run on Windows! First mistake: buying the tickets—valid only on one specific train—before I was sure that the CD was fully in working order. With the clock rapidly running down, I made a new CD and tested it on Windows. It worked. Packed everything together and ran for the train, watched Bavaria roll by for two hours, then to the office where I handed the CD over to Georgette.
Georgette popped the CD into her Mac, and discovered my second mistake: I had copied an old, outdated, Mac version instead of the new, fresh, squeaky-clean one. So I sat around drinking coffee and talking about their ideas for future versions, then took the train home again, looking at the moon for the better part of two hours.
So, this morning I have prepared ultra-new, ultra-fresh, ear-piercingly-squeaky-clean versions which I will upload onto Senduit for Georgette to download, after which she will create a master CD for duplication under remote control via telephone.
There are several issues arising from this experience. First is, I have to say, my sloppiness and overconfidence: bad workmanship compounded by not testing the product. It's not just here, I am making simple, sloppy mistakes at the architects' too: jumping to conclusions, not examining the results.
Secondly, what on earth possessed me to spend five hours on the train yesterday when I could just as easily have done the same Internet-and-remote-control trick? Was this not just a midlife-crisis-inspired desire to play the Knight in Shining Armour?
4 Comments:
Oh dear. Sorry for the wasted trip. Did you at least get to relax a little bit on the train? Read a good book?
Don't be too hard with yourself: perfection does not belong to this world. What matters is that you learnt a lesson.
What's this story of midlife-crisis? As long as men in their fifties maintain a decent performance, isn't maturity a charming time?
Mid-life crisis? I'd vote for just wanting a change in scenery. I wish I could take a couple of hours train ride and watch the scenery go by.
Glad to hear you at least found another fix.
I always think trains are the perfect way to escape - from anything!
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