They got me on Caffeine and alcohol

The bid is due, we knew the bid was due, but the bid budget was not agreed, so a cast of thousands could not be mobilised, instead we twiddled thumbs on a general Sales market research budget, until the Managing Director picked a nose, wiped an astronomically large stain of spilt milk from his table, probably, and decided "Team to GO" or words to that effect. Thunderbirds we are not. So three weeks of what could have been planning, organisation and doing a good job, is disolved in a headless chicken dash to make it look good at all costs, that is all costs within the budget.

Then a small print requirement is read, is reported, eyes are cast upward in seeking divine guidance and seeking a restuctured management. God is not on our side this day, all documents are required in the local lingo, yes... the local lingo, hire a local lingo person, hire a local lingo person at ridiculous expense and damn the budget.


Families are abandoned, wives join dating agencies, children check out "Fathers'R'Us'. Late hours are worked and not booked. Booking hours would further break the budget and break your career. So caffeine is drunk with a note to get the intravenous supplies next time. For now industrial strength coffee is slurped as if was never meant to be held in a mug when there is stomach wall needing scalding.

A chicken careers past in hope his career will survive and prosper, but I stay put as I remember my head should be on my shoulders. Putting the bid in on time is a battle not a war, winning the bid is the war. I am in the same league as a duracell bunny in old money. Let us read the bid again. Let us quibble on numbers. Let us get drunk on coffee until my mind fuzzes and admits defeats, this battle may not win the war. The batteries fade and I am left with two lucky rabbit foots that is not so good for the unlucky amputee bunny. Time to ruffle the feathers.

And mine's a pint.