Rot

The 95% humidity solidified into a light rain overnight last night, which laid down like a cooling (but temporary) balm on this heat-stricken world.

The heat, stillness and overwhelming humidity is all anyone can talk about. Plus our main back-of-house area sits just under an uninsulated metal roof… so it’s pretty much like working in a sauna or a steam oven at the moment. It would be tolerable if you could sweat and feel some relief, but the sweat just clings to everyone like a sticky glaze.

However. I have a R&R day tomorrow. So far my plan for the day is: to go back and revisit the section we want to buy, in order to pace out some options; to talk to a mortgage broker (since the banks are not budging); and harvest my late-planting of shallots and elephant garlic before the weather breaks and they start to rot in the ground.

My plan is not to go to work. I’ve had far too many days off lately that have ended up with me going back to work to fix something, order something, meet with some client, etc. It has to stop.

One of our sales team was commenting last weekend that she’s achieving really well with her targets, and getting lots of bookings… but she’s also barely coping with the workload, works every weekend, answers hundreds of emails a week, and actually really wants her customers to go somewhere else just so she can get some peace. I suggested that she just needs to keep up the smiley customer service until it ends with her launching a shooting spree. “Of course we’d love to help you with your event!… Now just stand still while I stab you in the eye.” Luckily, she laughed.

It’s a truth long-held that the best form of stress relief (at least for me) is putting loud music on in my car, and driving home just slightly less murderously than if I were playing a game of Grand Theft Auto. There seem to be songs genuinely made for this kind of aggressive, impotent ennui. Probably because every touring band through the history of time has felt the same way at some point and tried to write a song about it. I can still remember one 4am long-haul trip when Guns ‘n’ Roses’ Civil War came on the radio, and I had to pull over my truck because I just couldn’t stop crying with rage.

And that wasn’t a bad day at work. I was simply tired. Not moaning – just explaining.

It’s a tough business. Most of the time. You have to feel committed or else nobody would ever do it. I’m sure the same feeling wells up in any job where you work inhuman hours constantly fighting what seems like a crisis. Ask any EMT. Or any long-haul trucker. Or any soldier…

… What’s so civil about war anyway?…

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