Michelangelo sibyl from the Sistine Chapel

 

nine simple words

I walked into a rather annoying situation at work last night. One major piece of monitoring equipment that we use wasn't working right. No one from my department was around for me to ask what had happened or what was going on with it. Then as I searched for clues, I found a small message of nine words that gave me a partial answer. In a slightly cryptic way it told me that the piece of equipment was broke, but I wasn't given any details as to what caused it to be that way or how long ago it had happened.

So there I sat for about an hour or so trying to decide if I needed to call someone for more information or not. I could either call someone from second shift or someone from first shift to fill in some of the details, but I couldn't decide who would be the better choice. On the one hand I didn't want to lay blame where it didn't belong, but I also didn't want to feel like an idiot for the rest of night. I wanted an answer before the morning.

I felt a little lost and aggravated that wasn't being better informed. I mean I had just returned from my weekend and I had no idea what had happened or what I should do next. As the night wore on it bothered me less and less, but it wasn't how I wanted to start my week.

I am coming up at my one year anniversary at my job and it does surprise me a little. There have been moments where I have felt completely useless at work and other times when I think that I might have found a good place to stay. It seems to go in cycles. One day is a success and then the next day I'll feel as though I am in over my head.

All of the energy and hyperactivity from the weekend has disappeared. Today I just wanted to curl up in a ball, cover up with blankets and watch television and I did. I watched a program about Kakadu in Australia and wondered what it must be like to live where there are six seasons instead of four. The idea of five feet of rain falling is almost unimaginable. The closest I can get is remembering the stories that my grandfather would tell me about the monsoon season when he was growing up in the Philippines.

 
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