Patience and the Idiot Behind the Wheel

A Scene in Bucolic Cheshire

Accidents are exactly that, and some are caused by avoidable human error. In bucolic Cheshire, where the roads are pleasant and everyone drives with the abandon of suburban, carefree distraction, I happened upon a scene.

A fire engine stood with lights flashing, and as the details began to make sense, I saw two cars involved in a collision, with a tow-away truck arriving to cart one of them away. The police had cordoned off the road; in fact, there was no thoroughfare. Cars were being diverted further up the road, except for residents of the area.

Surveying the Wreckage

I did not tarry. As another tow-away truck navigated the roadblock, I noted the cars were a wreck, and could surmise from my observation who might have been at fault. One car had been accessing a busy road, and the driver's judgement must have deserted him; he was not fast enough to cross the oncoming lane to turn into the road as another car approached from the right.

There would not have been enough time for the other car to react with a sudden stop or a swerve. The result: a crash, fenders ruined, airbags deployed, and one foolish act becoming the inconvenience of many.

Reflections on Patience and Policing

I have always opined that the speed and manoeuvrability of a car present many opportunities for patience; but you only need an idiot behind the wheel for a vehicle to become a weapon of catastrophic consequences.

Yet, for all the unfortunate interactions I have had with the police before, I was persuaded that their helpfulness on this occasion was commendable.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

The many tests of a patient waiting in patience

A Week to Fathom

What a weekend that was, or rather, let us consider the full week, because the thought of all that transpired is hard enough to fathom.

Fresh from the good news of my PSA having fallen to its lowest level, buoying my confidence in the radiotherapy for prostate cancer, I was having chest pains that led to my attending A&E first thing on Monday.

That was one unplanned visit to the hospital. The result was reassuring; it was nothing serious, just musculoskeletal pain that some bed rest could help.

Good News, Then Distress

Friday was the main day scheduled for my biannual monitoring at the Christie Hospital. Going there never ceases to be as impactful as it is critical to saving lives. It is a visit to a renowned cancer hospital to review my PSA result and discuss the attendant issues from radiotherapy.

That went well, so I stopped by Nando's for a meal and used the opportunity to call Brian. Halfway through my meal, after our call had ended, I had a choking episode. I won’t suggest this is a longer-term side effect of radiotherapy, as dysphagia, and I have not considered if it could have exacerbated it; I’ve had choking episodes going back decades.

Thankfully, I had enough napkins to contain the relief in bringing it all back up. Not a beautiful sight, and no one noticed I was in distress either. I cleaned up in the conveniences and returned home to lie down.

Saturday Takes a Turn

Whilst that should have resolved things, as I do usually have episodes of choking on food, this one was different. Some cereal before midnight did not go down, likely due to food impaction, an obstruction, or inflammation in my throat. I threw up in the toilet and decided to postpone my pills for a few hours.

The pills did eventually go down, and I had a lie-in for most of Saturday into the afternoon.

Getting up, I made a cup of tea. I thought I had drunk the full mug, but there was pressure in my throat and quite a bit of discomfort. I had to throw up again.

The tea came up with some mucous-like substance that fell to the bottom of the toilet bowl. That was concerning. I was about to return to A&E for another ailment.

A Night in A&E

Calling an Uber, I made it to the hospital soon enough, though as I alighted, I was sick in the bushes before being triaged. From then on, I was vomiting a thickened, mucous-like substance every thirty minutes or so into a sick bowl.

Just about two hours after arrival, I saw a doctor. She gave me a drink of water, which seemed to stay down. I have not vomited after that. I was then referred for a possible endoscopy and left in the Emergency Room for two hours.

Then another doctor called me in for review. We agreed on an experiment: I would have a sandwich and a drink, and if that stayed down, I was to be discharged for further outpatient review. If I could not keep the food down, it would mean hospital admission, nil by mouth, and a possible endoscopy on Monday to identify the obstruction.

The food stayed down, but it was left waiting for a few hours before I received an email notification; an after-visit message; it was sent 30 minutes earlier. Apparently, I had been discharged, and no one had bothered to inform me. I left the hospital over eight hours after arriving. It was almost 2:00 AM.

The Weight of Being Alone

I appreciate that these matters take time. Anyone attending A&E is busy juggling the precarity of their situation that brought them to the hospital with the need to keep others informed, especially if they are alone in that predicament, and that is just the way it is.

I have every reason to want a better situation, to be in a hospital with someone. Everyone else seemed to have someone with them, but as one person, you are a container of the reflexes of concern, anxiety, or even panic of others about you. You must wonder whether it is necessary to inform anyone during the crisis or only after it has passed.

There is an emotional toll involved in the desire for information and details. I have had calls whilst a doctor's stethoscope was feeling around my body, calls I have had to ignore.

My going to the hospital should be part of accepting that the right decision has been made and that I am in good hands. Not much can be helped beyond everyone holding their nerve, thinking good thoughts, and praying for the best outcomes.

Everything takes time, and the patient patiently waiting for answers and assurances, first for themselves before finding the form of words for dissemination to others who duly need to be informed, is probably the most impacted by it all.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Thoroughness Is Not Stalling

Caution Gets the Cold Shoulder

I sometimes find myself receiving the cold shoulder because something I have been asked to do requires a bit more investigation and understanding before considering implementation.

One such situation came up towards the end of last week. A deployment from a utility set was being knocked out by a security policy. We did not realise this was an issue until an urgent investigation for actionable data could not be completed, as the tracker had already been removed by that same policy.

In layman's terms, take, for instance, a sophisticated radio jamming implementation that stops all mobile phones from communicating, except for selected phones with particular identities.

One essential phone is then brought into the environment, but not exempt from the jamming signal; it might appear to operate, but it goes blank when a call is about to be made. This is not entirely accurate in technical terms, but it paints the picture of what the situation was.

A Policy in the Way

We had blocked everything except for select elements, and another system was sending out an element that was not on that list. The element was installed, but within a set timeframe, it was removed because it was not on the list.

Obviously, this put my colleague in a quandary. They had to explain why information they assumed would always be retrievable was suddenly unavailable, and this stymied the investigation another team was trying to commence.

In the broader scheme of things, there was always a security policy, but for investigatory purposes, the tool needed an exemption to allow it to install and remain installed. The end-to-end facilitation chain had not been engaged, and hence, the failure of intent at that stage.

Rushing Ahead Without the Facts

The obvious next step was to remediate the issue by allowing the tool to install, but neither of us had full knowledge of the facts of what other parameters it needed to perform as required.

While my colleague wanted to rush out a fix, I was not convinced we had the right one. We had some knowledge of what should be done, but no guarantee it would work. In cases such as this, I would find a subset of users and/or devices to test the premise on, ascertain that everything works as intended, and then implement it under change management processes.

However, to my colleague, I was impeding the process and stalling rather than being proactive, despite my concerns and feeling that we did not have sufficient information to proceed.

Their next act was to extricate themselves from the communication chain, leaving me to face the pressure of urgent implementation without the full set of data required to have the confidence that we were doing the right thing.

Right the First Time

Earlier today, I gained some clarity on the fundamentals of the implementation, including what the sources were and where the conflicts occurred. With this, I was sufficiently informed to test the premise of my findings and, beyond that, gain the full information needed to fix the problem once and for all.

I recognise that I could be pedantic, and at times, some have suggested I am a perfectionist, which I would immediately deny. I am thorough, sometimes quite particular and meticulous; it is simply the nature of the responsibility this job carries.

An accidental deployment can so easily close down a business, and whilst this particular activity does not carry such a critical risk, there is one thought to always keep in mind.

I'd rather do it right the first time, even if it takes longer, than rush it now and have to fix the issues that arise because I did not devote the necessary time to understanding what was involved. For that reason, I make no apology. The world is not ending; it is impatience clouding better judgement.

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

This Humpty Dumpty does get up

Ambitions live on

If ever I needed to be reminded, I was chasing waterfalls when I should have, for now, stuck to the rivers and lakes that have grounded me after that prostate cancer diagnosis in June last year, I faced a brutal reality on Wednesday night.

Inadvertently, I found myself having completed more than 10,000 steps in the previous six days, not out of deliberate effort, but in the drudgery of everyday events. That realisation on Wednesday indicated I needed just over 5,000 steps to make it 7 days in a row, a feat I have not achieved in quite a long time.

Maybe, make it a charted and timed walk, which records pace, heart rate for intensity, cadence and some other interesting, though mundane data along with the time to recovery. I set out on a route I had not plied in over a year, thinking I would catch the breeze on my walk.

Brought to ground suddenly

I was barely over a kilometre into my walk and out of nowhere, I do not think I tripped, my legs and feet seemed to scatter below my frame, and my brain kindly suggested I was going down. I was soon tumbling down, breaking my fall with my left knee and hands that thankfully had leather gloves on.

There was some momentum in the fall, and I rolled into half the outer lane of a dual carriageway that was not well-lit. I was so fortunate that no cars were coming. I picked myself up, took a few strides and rested on a wall as I caught my breath.

Someone waiting at the bus stop opposite must have seen it because he called from across the road to enquire if I was alright. I could only lift my hand in a gesture towards him.

A fresh whitish knee

A few minutes later, the debate was ongoing in my head about whether to continue or return home, my knee seething with the rage of a graze, my determination was to continue, and so I did to complete 13,408 steps for the day.

When I eventually got to look at my knee, I had revealed almost a square inch of flesh, but not much of a bleed compared to how I did not stop bleeding after I went for blood tests on Tuesday, and my shirt was stained.

There is a lot that I want to do, but I am not where I think I am; certain limitations constrain me even as I defy natural laws to do more than my body seems equipped for currently. The recovery process, as I am gently told by both my body and advisors, will take a while, I need to be patient with myself and adjust my goals within the framework of mental and physical abilities.

I have continued to exceed the 10,000-step goal, while my knee is not healing as fast as I had hoped. Meanwhile, Brian suggests I apply a dash of methylated spirit, considering how he’ll bawl at the application of a denatured and non-alcoholic dressing. Two fingers to my eyes and pointing those fingers at him.

Trains, bloodstains, and brains

A deathly train smash

You are always trying to figure out what persuades people to bring it all to an end. Our sorrowfully sympathetic inclination is then put upon by the public stage they have adopted to bring the screaming crescendo of existence to the deafening silence of an ignominious end on a busy intercity railway line.

You do wonder if this was deliberate, a murder perhaps, or an accident. Only some days before, the transport police published a YouTube video of a near miss at a railway crossing.

A pedestrian in a pique of nonsensical urgency had clambered over the lowered barrier gate, ignoring the flashing lights or the siren to cross and be on their way. Just as a speeding train missed sending him splattering into oblivion.

Easy living interrupted

Over an hour's wait of being detained on our train at Milton Keynes Central railway station, we were told that the remains and quite likely in many places had been removed and we might soon be proceeding to London having enjoyed the train company's generosity of a free bottle of still water.

You cannot be left in any doubt, that the incident of a human being impeding a fast-moving train is almost always irrecoverable. The definiteness of being a goner is as sure as the going is quite gone that we can agree the person is totally gone.

In the aftermath of it

We may never know the name of this victim of seemingly untenable circumstances that defy understanding. That we are caught in this temporary delay for the eternal departure of another should neither be seen as selfish nor selfless, for but the grace of God go we.

There may be regrets as there might be mourning. The emergency services attending another gruesome sight that might haunt or leave them inured, after witnessing similar tragic endings and cleanups.

As we pray for the repose of the soul of the too swiftly despatched, may journey mercies attend us to our destinations.

Life can be a fleeting thing, O that we may have the joy of living to be thankful regardless of what experiences we have had. I arrived safely over 2 hours behind schedule, I am grateful for life, security, safety, and hope.

On keeping and appreciating the value of my diamond

Working on relationships

There are times I want to believe I have the best of relationships and others where I am doubtful about the strength of what we might have going. The doubts are not about the relationship itself but how to navigate the emotional elements that constitute the relationship to ensure needs and requirements are satisfied.

If there were a rulebook for relationships with 10 Steps to Perfect Relationships, maybe 10 steps would be a bit much, if the whole concept could be condensed to 3 steps or how Jesus paraphrased the 10 Commandments into two of loving God and loving your neighbour as yourself, maybe, just maybe there can be a modicum of assured success.

The demands are demanding

However, human beings are too complex to be subject to the simple mechanisation of rules. The elements that make for a good relationship with anyone are myriad and varied, the commonalities and differences that engender satisfaction for partners would rarely be similar between all sorts of people.

As much as I strive to make relationships work, we all have expectations, some fully and completely met and others quite less so, as to be unsatisfactory. We work at what we have, to make the bad good, and hope to make the good even better or perfect, but there is work involved and communication is key to that.

Making provision for the sulk

Then again, allowances need to be made to vent frustration, anger, or some other emotion in the scheme of things. A quiet spell of being sent to Coventry is probably one of the easier messages to send in the expression of disagreement or more. It is prerogative that members of a partnership are free to exercise at will without the need to answer to anyone.

Not that it makes for any good feeling for the affected party, but these are things that we as human beings need to negotiate even as the burden of disquiet exacerbates stress and unfortunate discomfort.

Seeking a more perfect union

As the old saying, Love is blind, marriage or relationships are the eye opener. My eyes are constantly opened to my inadequacies in satisfying what might be required of me, in as much as they are opened to how people in relationships are flawed people seeking to augment each other to make a more complete union and whole, some of that is in bonding as glue for joinery and at times it is brutal clash of iron sharpening iron with all the sparks that come from the friction.

I guess what matters most is lots of patience and much more endurance to stay the course whatever happens, to prove daily and maybe hourly that the person you have chosen matters more than you have the capacity to express and in the same vein, more than they would ever know. The rest you leave to fate and fortitude, you can never relent in giving your best, the test is whether they trust you enough to accept it as good enough.

When I look back into history, a man was a diamond to a damsel, sadly, the diamond lost its glitter, the amazing gem had lost the colour, the clarity, the cut, and the carat weight that gave it inestimable value, rancour and animosity bedevils that once blessed matrimony. It is a narrative one must prevent from repeating itself.

Taking friendliness to heart

In patient endurance

In a telephone conversation that I could not wait to end that there was an urging in me to ask what the particular purpose of the call was, I held on still to allow it to come to its natural end.

It was not a conversation, I was on the listening end of everything and the work inside me was one where I rationalised to myself that it was a test of my resolve, I had to recalibrate my ability to engage my friend even when my eyes begin to glaze over and my neck stiffens in obduracy to avoid being swallowed in the mental chasm of his chaotic and yet charmed existence.

Then again, I was somewhat vindicated when he said that chatbots could not understand him, this is not just because of his accent which is quite distinct, much as I hate to use the word torrent, his speech is like a waterfall of words without attempted enunciation, you strain with much difficulty to understand him, you begin to tune out.

A burden of care

Beyond that, I had begun to associate this ‘speech impediment’ and it has to be that if we are speaking the same language and yet we cannot understand each other, with mental exhaustion. It is energy sapping with all the wringing of anything you can wring if caught in the web of this engagement.

Yet, my love for him is undiminished, as a friend and I will support him, where I can calm him down enough to have a conversation, and understand where he needs my support, he can count on me.

With all the tendency I could have to assess, I have come to another appreciation of what I need to do in terms of endurance and patience, there is much work to be done in being more longsuffering, for I have been forgiven much more than I have dared to forgive others.

Caught in the process that fails to serve

In the waters of fate

I live a very grateful man, many times afflicted by the issues of life, some by commission, others by omission, and a few by sheer incompetence. Much as I hate to view myself as a victim, there is nothing as fundamentally stripping you of dignity as to be lost in the system or some convoluted process.

The apparently structured processes, dry run to the nth degree that catastrophically fails when met with reality and completely missing facility for recalibration out of example and lessons learnt to be corrected.

It is like falling into water and drowning whilst lifeguards quibble about whether to throw in a lifebuoy, a lifeline, or jump in to save me. Maybe, just maybe, they see me flailing in the water between gulps, crying out orders to them on what to do, and then it occurs to them, there is a life that needs saving.

In the effects of indecision

Yet, one cannot sit in a pity party, you press on. Heck! This is someone who has survived life-threatening circumstances and had moments or stretches of one misfortune, infirmity, incapacity or another, I need to get a grip.

It is just that many times when processes are put in place, the critical success factor which pertains to the fact that someone is affected by that process is missing. You do wonder if ever the question gets asked in the design process, is there a person affected by this process and if impacted negatively, what mitigating steps are in place to promptly ameliorate and remedy the situation without adverse consequences?

In the hope of survival

In view of that, a lifeguard has thrown in a lifebuoy but from the perspective of the drowning, it is an act of disinterest and indifference, boxes are being ticked and that is what counts in process evaluation, whether lives were saved, are not of statistical significance, only that the saved should feel undying gratitude for being noticed at all.

In all the slow progress made, patience is a virtue that I am daily equipping myself to practice and endure, I have to trust another process that is unscripted, I will not only survive but also thrive.

Thought Picnic: Friendship is a test that never ends

Tested and testing

I pass many tests I do not believe I can pass, many not as a result of study but as a study of resolve. The extent to which I have allowed myself to be tested beyond the limits that are tolerable yet somewhere in my cabinet of virtue I find the tolerance. I tolerate a lot.

If you were to survey my tongue, you will find the accidents of restraint, the number of times I have bitten my tongue and resisted blurting out an expletive. With equanimity, I absorb the shocks and displeasure even when I should explode, I become a fully corked volcano stopped short from spewing out pyroclastic flows hoping the pressure subsides.

Friends escaping sanction

I think to myself, friends are a rare breed for whom such allowances are made where others would not find an inch of escape to act with the levity to abuse the familiarity of relationships that breeds contempt and disrespect that we overlook as those we like, and love take liberties and licence on our generosity and much that we share.

Willingly we become masochists of the violation by the hands and whims of those that are not strangers to us, our patience an enduring virtue that could attract the desire to overlook while it demands the irascible. I guess you find yourself entering the twilight zone of Jesus’ advice to forgive seventy times seven times.

They unbeknownst to them wrong you so gravely and yet they do no wrong. It is the stuff of friendships, and that count might just run out and weaken the bond to when it cannot but break. It does break when being careless, carefree and without care deals a lesson of sobriety in reality that you can take no more. How much more? You can never really tell.

The patience medication might not work

A walk of patience

Getting somewhere takes time and deciding to walk there when there are other means to travel faster or possibly safely is a test of patience, I determined to teach myself with the hope it might be beneficial.

Then, I consider the fact that I could be quite impatient, my capacity for endurance gets tested in many ways for which I should muster a lot to contain reactions I would rather not express. In the things that I have been fully persuaded of people or things, I can find a lot more to give whilst expecting little or nothing in return. My heart is in it.

Doing what I won’t

Yet, there are things that I would rather not do, things that have brought remonstration and reticence usually well-expressed but poorly received. My interest is forced, my engagement is coerced, and my patience is too easily exhausted. I rarely wait around to exercised, for my sanity, those chapters find closure long before they are fully written for others, but beyond completed for me.

With one who shares filial piety, that has been my regret. For to be who they could be seems to elude their availability. Too many have called me into situations I would rather not find involvement and when I did, I was quite disappointed. My anger I have contained, the harshest words have been in the phraseology of business-like formality, no excoriation or condemnation, just displeasure with a withdrawal somewhat recondite.

No seconds on minutes

Time is another factor for which my patience is quickly worn, whilst I do not watch my watch with addictive distraction, the use of time and the purposeful adherence to it being kept or where it might slip, communication exists, cannot be overstated. I then must understand that many are not conditioned to timeliness to the extent that one is punctilious.

When I think about it, I might have to admit that I am an in-patient taking treatment in a patient ward. The cure for elements of chronic impatience is being administered in ways no one is sure will produce the expected result. It is in progress, a work of hope and yearning.

Thought Picnic: Patience is a place of calm

Process is patient

We learn the work of patience as a continuous experience in life. There are things that need to begin, grow, and mature, they require a timeframe that in our knowledge will allow us to reap the best harvest of a situation.

You want fruits to grow to a size and ripen, you’ll be suspicious of fruit that instantly grows like air being blown into a balloon and ripens like flicking the switch of a lightbulb. Yes, there are people with a snake-oil remedy disposition that would love to pass off fruit like that in the market for a quick buck. They will do so and disappear.

Destination travels patient

Those who intend to return to the market time and again, will let patience do its work because it builds reputation, shows character, reveals integrity and espouses humanity, because they do unto others what they expect others to do unto them. They are in their souls, the good neighbour, the Good Samaritan, the people of whom we learn by example, who we can trust with the reins of power to do right.

We must be patient, because no matter how fast you are going, you will not be going beyond your destination and those caught in the slow lane will eventually get there. We should just be wary of those who have no destination, wandering in the wilderness with a path or direction who might soon wander into the path of predators to be consumed.

Preparation grows patience

Patience is a virtue we can so easily run out of, yet, it gives a different sense of calm when you know that what is coming will come because things are in motion by reason of activities in place to make it happen. It is borne in quiet contemplation away from the noise of the madding crowds and the maddening situations.

Give patience its place and anxiety will have no hold. It is taking so long to reach the decision, what we no more fear is regardless of how long drawn out it becomes, the general idea of what is expected will take its incontrovertible and tangible form that no realities from alternate universes can dispute.

A day in concision

A day in time

What a difference a day makes, even if you cannot remember what happened in the last 24 hours. The clock ticks away as time grows old each moment reached and left to travel into the eternity past and the present which was a moment ago the future creeps upon you.

Sometimes, we give no thought to the passing of time, I attend work at home with expectation and patience, the things we need to do are limited by the things we are yet to acquire. Our presence tested by enquiry and hesitancy, for we must amend not to offend.

The time is true

In this, we tackle the affairs of the heart, a missive on a mission for which we have agreed to accomplish a union at the next rendezvous. Putting doubts aside and stepping out in faith, there is a lot in this for us. Birthdays wishes and thankful greetings, mining the gems of relationships that matter even more.

Not much a cauldron nor a pot, the black-eyed beans boil away in the gentility of slow cooking, no concern for the hours and no fear for the burning. Eventually, when it is ready, a tasty meal is had. Crying from the hamlet far away is the patriarch, needy and needful, we cannot needless heed even as we find ourselves needing.

Doing the timely stuff

The return of the leader is suffused attending to urgencies of proximity, nothing of our questions will for now be satisfactorily answered, we have become the waiters at the tables of time. Tapping away again, the words are a jumble of nonsense and insensibility, yet, in a few hours the day’s work would have been done.

Just to remember something I heard Trevor Noah say, “If he wasn’t black, he won’t be dead.” The shooting dead of Rayshard Brooks speaks to the fact that police reform critically needs a curriculum that majors in de-escalation because there are too many trigger-happy hotheads in police uniform devoid of common sense charged with protecting us. [BBC News: Rayshard Brooks shooting: Use of deadly force by Atlanta police condemned]

[]

Attention Extermination

One can easily be driven to distraction,
Maybe caught in exasperation,
When the vagaries of communication,
Have no context of precision,
You strain for some clarification,
Something with the slightest indication,
From the jumble of crude expression,
Making sense or comprehension,
Whilst I strain with consternation,
Avoiding such deserved condescension,
I seek and yearn for explanation,
Though won’t expect elucidation,
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition,
Of every past and recurring conversation,
Each exchange exudes more frustration,
Please, catch me away from this condition,
Ere a match sets off a conflagration,
Dare one wish a spontaneous combustion,
Get a mob for a defenestration,
An arrow strikes to gruesome exsanguination,
As they make the wildest assumption,
That you’re gifted with prognostication,
In their bizarre imagination,
They pine for your appreciation,
But for my grooming and compunction,
I will let go with utter vituperation
In truth, there is no solution,
To everything representing confusion,
For which on simple reflection,
Has capacity for a better exposition,
Being a man of toleration,
With the quest for peace and determination,
It’s a cross, a test, a life’s audition.

[]

A blog of no pretension

Nothing to scribble

I picked up my laptop following the thought of let's write a blog. Nothing followed that thought as I began to type because I really do not know what to write about. The many thoughts coursing through my mind do not present the fulcrum on which to lever a useful writeup without it ending up as banal.

Yet, this is how blogs have started off at the instigation of a whim, the fear of repeating myself for the umpteenth time or the concern that my contribution to a topic is not original, but follows the crowds of opinion like a mob in a stampede running relentlessly in the direction of a cliff to fall headlong to their deaths.

Waiting to exhale

What gives is this, I am in a waiting game, listening for a starting gun, whilst the starting blocks are being picked up by someone else who needs to deliver them to the track. Meanwhile, I need to occupy my time earning a crust on the avoidance of twiddling thumbs.

Having written this much without an idea of what to write about, I have if you would agree completed a blog about nothing whilst revealing what it takes to put words down and not get too anxious or stressed about the result. As I am not being paid to blog and it would be published where I have full control, being under no pressure to deliver is a blessing in disguise.

Eventually, there might be an inspiration for another blog, but this one is done.

Thought Picnic: Manicured talons of keyboard dread

Coping with anger

As I have written many times before, anger is an emotion I try as much as possible to avoid. Well, I avoid it when it requires that I express myself vocally.

It takes hold as a trembling leading to a possible loss of my voice as it goes higher in pitch before it completely trails off. One place you never want to be in is where you suddenly cannot talk where there is much to be said.

In essence, I have decided that when I am so angered, I would rather leave the room and find a place to cool down before I return to apologise later than I could not continue with the meeting.

Fingers on the keyboard trigger

Now, very few things anger me, however, none do so as much as being at the receiving end of rank incompetence or incomprehensible bumbling.

My patience is so quickly exhausted by those situations that whilst I would not be caught blurting out an expletive to express my displeasure, I should not have a keyboard to my fingers because I would be parting with a piece of the mind I do not want to retain.

I suffer fools gladly to a point where my expression in words would both be damning and excoriating without being abusive.

Saying it nicely

When people waste my time, they had better be ready to be wasted with the coolness of expression lacking in any kind of commendation, but short of calling the person an idiot.

Yet, idiot would be the closest term of endearment and that would be effusive with praise. I have work to do and others have their work to do, when either of us shirks in doing what we are supposed to be doing with efficacy and efficiency, you can be sure someone would be so seriously pissed off.

You do not want to be at the receiving end of a pissed off letter or email, penned so daintily by my manicured talons of dread, no you don’t.

Thought Picnic: The Nourishment of Irksomeness and Hunger

Tales of the past

The small agonies of yesterday were promptly erased today as all the dread became stories retold to mirth and laughter.

My colleague arrived to pick me up at the Bed & Breakfast in the morning and returned me safely at the close of the day.

I could not help but observe this morning that despite the available parking spaces in various car parks around the office campus there were people who looked quite able-bodied that plunked their cars on the kerb talking up space on the pavements in what appeared as a lack of consideration for others.

Kippered and smacked

In my view facilities management should take a more disciplined stance towards this abuse, a radical rethink of campus requirements and provision is more than necessary, it is as essential as it is critical.

One has the good mind of picking up all those badly packed cars and hanging them up, front-down like kippers just slightly beyond the jumping reach of their respective owners until they were penitently reformed.

Testing and trying

We had our Starbucks breaks and a time of productive engagement before we had another conference to clarify a number of issues that arose from our conference last Thursday.

My patience was tested with the persnickety requirements of security to fill in some detail in the access badge forms, it was with great restraint that I wrote an email to remediate the situation; that was my third visit to reception where helpfulness was in seriously short supply.

There is no doubt in my mind that this is a system that could be so simple, but has been complicated by atrocious process and timewasting to suggest the activity is useful, needful and wonderful. I could add no more to that.

I shrink

Yet as I plan to retire tonight, I realise I am in a real Bed & Breakfast, far away from civilisation on a farm where the road is pitch black in the dark with dragons lurking in the gutters ready to grab at you if you dare wander the half mile down the road to the busy main road that begs to be crossed with the risk losing a limb.

Breakfast is good, lunch is ordinary and it is to bed with just a milk drink for supper. I am beginning to shrink and fade away – what am I saying? I just downed a can of Dunn’s River Nurishment, vanilla flavour, this time, I also like the banana flavour too.

Good night!

Thought Picnic: Impatience is a mind-set

They must go

Impatience has to be a mind-set, a determination not to wait or give way, a selfish disposition to get into things without consideration or thoughtfulness presenting some sort of euphoria for gaining the upper hand.

I find this attitude demonstrated the most in public places when a person is part of communal setting jumbled together by situation or circumstance, in queues or on the street.

Unacceptable acts

Queue-jumping is something I cannot tolerate, especially if I am in that queue, allowances can be made for extraordinary circumstances, but I would not yield for anyone because they imagine they have two heads, ten legs and have some title from some other worldly royalty.

One might notice humility and give way, but haughtiness is asking for trouble that includes excoriation, ridicule and condemnation, belittlement would follow with derisive wit, and that might not be the end of it.

Scoot the maniac

A man on a mobility scooter whizzed past me as I left the shops this afternoon, and as he got to the pedestrian traffic lights, he did not wait for the lights to turn before he throttled across the road. Now, the road was clear, however, his action was enough to raise an eyebrow.

In the central reservation, of the dual-carriageway we were crossing, we waited, he forgetting to push the hail button to activate the traffic lights system to give pedestrians priority. I did that.

But just as the lights turned for the cars to move, our mobility scooter friend scooted onto the road and barely made it to the second lane, holding up traffic as two cars that were not expecting a crossing whizzed past.

Third car just about caught a glimpse of him and applied the brakes before his made for the pavement completely oblivious of the mishap or demise he had inadvertently planned for in what seemed like a very sunny day for a suicide mission.

Incredulity and amazement

I shook my head, in fact, everyone shook their heads, be they standing or in a vehicle, the unspoken thought going through our minds wondering about the madness, the urgency, the nonchalance, the carelessness and the indifference, all a demonstration of impatience.

One can only wonder why that man was on a mobility scooter and whether it was by reason of the stupidity of impatience and if so, he has not learnt any lessons.

There is a saying in Yoruba that I have crudely translated to English, and it goes – No matter how fast you go, you are not going beyond your destination and those who are slow on their journeys would eventually get there.

I make time for things, I hate rushing to places, I would step out of the way if I must and honestly, patience in many things keeps you out of avoidable situations, preventable accidents and unnecessary arguments.

Impatience is a mind-set, but the better mind-set and virtue to have is patience.