This week has flown by so quickly, that it seems almost like it was just one, long, stressful day. The pressure on us is intense, and more so on me than on most, since I'm the one who has to get the entire application process running from beginning to end, by Monday. I've never been on a project with so many useless layers of management. The managers on my project have to give almost hourly status reports to their managers, and their managers' managers. And the customer has a goon squad of managers too; they want status reports on the progress of their bi-daily status reports.

You can't help but be pulled into the drama of it. We've been given this drop-dead (a term that could end up being not as figurative as it was meant to be) day of Monday to get the whole thing working. The only reason that such pressure is coming down from above is that bonus money is dependant on our finishing the project this year. But not bonuses for us; no it's for the directors of the business group, within our customer's company, responsible for the project. So they're lashing us with their whips, running us into the ground, careless of the effect on our personal lives, all so they can make their huge bonuses.

So, like I say, I've been swept into the pressure cooker with their lashing whips (I'm not ashamed to mix metaphors), and have come close, this week, on a couple of occasions, of losing it. My project manager, Tom, came by yesterday afternoon and just seeing him, out of the corner of my eye, hovering anxiously set me on edge (this after a half day of phone and cell calls, emails, and even instant messages). He'd come not to pester me but to find out if there was anything he could do to help, and before I could stop myself I said, yes, that he could help by leaving me alone. I instantly felt terrible about saying that, because Tom is one of the loveliest guys I've worked with. A short, soft-spoken South Carolinean, about the same age as me, with an adorable smile, and genteel manners, he makes everybody around him feel warm and comfortable. So I ran after him and apologized, and found myself babbling a little. I was so stressed out that I could barely speak straight.

Today was even worse, if that were possible. My trip to San Francisco this afternoon had been long planned. It's just happened to fall at the worst possible time, and I'm going to have to work all weekend. At least that means that they have to pay for my hotel this time (my apartment in San Francisco is still sublet). So I've been relying on using my work laptop from my hotel to connect up to the customer's network, and continue my work over the weekend. But last night I found that my laptop wouldn't connect to the network on my cable modem at home, so I thought the same would apply in my hotel. With all the work ahead of me, it seemed I'd probably have to cancel my trip - which would be damned complicated since it's the return leg of one round-trip, and Monday's flight back to New York would be the beginning leg of another round-trip.

So I pushed through this morning, trying to solve the network problems by calling the customer's help-desk, while simultaneously working on getting the application process working, and fending off the usual barrage of emails, instant messages, and phone calls. It's only now, on the plane, sitting (blissfully) in business class, after a glass of champagne, that I can slow down and relax a little.

These journals can't be very interesting recently. It's been virtually nothing but tales of hard work and office politics. But that's been my life lately. This week in particular, under the stressful conditions I've had to work, I've found myself saving all my energy and attention for the work, barely taking time out to acknowledge other things, so focussed that I don't even register other people's attempts at humor. The only exception was when I went out for dinner with a bunch of the guys Wednesday night. Through all these months, this was the first time I'd joined them for dinner. I've preferred using my evenings to exercise, and get some time to myself. But it just seemed right to join them at least once. All of us were feeling badly used, so we went to an expensive restaurant, and ordered freely, putting our expense accounts to good use. (For desert, I couldn't chose between apple crisp and chocolate mouse, so I ordered both.) I don't know how they eat and drink like this every night. They were mostly all drinking heavily, and the conversation became increasingly baudy as the meal progressed, with much talk of various people having new assholes ripped in them. Despite everything, there's a real bond formed between us; a bond based on just that feeling of soldiering through together despite all the crap that's being thrown in our direction from both our own management, as well as by our customer's psychotically demanding management team.

(San Francisco, Sat, Oct 25, 2003, 3:02 PM)

The view, a somewhat familiar one, from my hotel room at dawn this morning

It was unusually warm in San Francisco, when I arrived last night, and promised to get up to ninety this morning. So I decided to work late last night, and early this morning to get as much as possible out of the way in the hope I'd have time to enjoy the weather. Working until midnight last night was bad enough, but today, cooped up in my hotel room with a gorgeous Indian Summer day outside, was quite depressing. I've decided that enough is enough, and that after this weekend, I'm not going to work any more evenings or weekends on this project. I feel as if I'm almost losing myself here.

I hope my next journal entry will be cheerful!