I never think of myself as being stressed from work. I just don't see it or feel it. I think of myself as mostly easy going, leaving the job at my desk when I go home. No worries, no stress.
And then I come home and eat half a tub of Nutella with a butter knife.
There was very little Bosszilla today. Today my work problem was much more basic. I am trying to recover a data system that was set up like crap in the beginning, been diddled and fiddled and futzed with since, and still isn't clean after several hours of work -- and some data is gone beyond recover, which will bite someone's butt in the passage of time (not mine, I'm in on this at the last minute). This means much extracting information from D-man, which, despite his sweet nature and desire to have this work, is painful.
Somehow, on Monday, I have to find enough information (from information that does not exist) to make a report to give to Trendy Project Engineer from our client. I've met him before. He's got an exotic name -- I suspect Indian or Indonesian heritage -- and he's pretty in a skinny, long black lashes, full lipped sort of way. But he's just damned trendy. Expensive, acid dyed, pre-tastefully ripped jeans. Redbrown highlighted tips in his black hair, which is also gelled into careful careless spikes. Metal cuff bracelet with some line drawing of tigers on it. If I didn't know he was from Arizona, I'd say there's a heavy West Coast influence in his life. Oh, and the untucked buttondown, skinny sortasilk shirt. Very Trendy.
It's hard to take him seriously, despite his intense manner and position. It's hard to take anyone seriously when you know they spent $80 to have someone pre-rip their jeans.