It's been awhile. My ridiculous workload has conspired to keep me away from everything that is near and dear to me (booze, chicks, writing tracks, etc). Apparently insurance adjusters speak a different language than the rest of us. One where No means Yes, I'd love to take the claim and let it sit and rot.

As the sole person taking new claims this week I have a new definition of busy. When I signed on, I was told that I would be introduced slowly so that I could get my sea legs. Not so, on my second day I was thrown in the deep end with the words "swim bitch!" as my only encouragement. They didn't even give me a pair of fucking water wings.

Don't get me wrong, I would far sooner be doing this than what I've been doing for the previous 20 some years, but there comes a time when it's just too damned much for one person to handle. I've officially reached that point. Fatigue is setting in and starting to cloud my brain. The most basic, obvious things are getting overlooked in my constant rush to get to the next job or back to the office to push paper from pile "A" to pile "B", only to push it back the next day.

At this point in the game I can only look forward to the weekend with hopes of extreme inebriation to numb me to the point of unconciousness.

If this keeps up, my next post may be from Ponoka.