That time of the year

Its that time of the year again. The time when what went around comes around. The time when my Managers sit in scornful judgment of my pitiful collection of achievements. This is a stressful time of the year for me. It started with Mr. Manager sending out a warning email to the group informing us that the hour of reckoning drew nigh. Like sinners who stand before the pearly gates, we are expected to have a list of our good deeds close at hand. The two weeks meted out to us to put our houses in order flew by. There was so much else to do. Then, just like that, it was the night before. I stared at my screen blankly. What in the world did I do this last year? I felt as if I had had a good time. I distinctly remembered occasions when I looked forward to getting to work. I am rather sure that I enjoyed putting my nose to the grindstone a handful of times. I could not however remember a single concrete good deed to record. Sweat broke out on my forehead. How in the world was I going to persuade my manager that it was of the utmost importance that my salary be increased in leaps and bounds? I had the biggest writers block that this world has ever seen. Hillary and Tenzing would have been straining at the bit to take a shot at it. I could have leased it out to Switzerland for them to open a world class ski resort on its slopes. With trembling hand I reached for the wine bottle. Much later, I had a list. I felt rather proud of myself. I put myself to bed. The next morning, as I staggered around the house nursing a headache that was larger than my writers block ever was, I decided that it would be prudent to review my list of accomplishments before sending them out to He Who Must Give Me More Money. Minutes later, I stared bug-eyed at the screen. Here was the list that caused my eyes to behave all ugly
1. Fixed some bugs in the code
2. Wrote some code
3. Did some interviews
4. Gave some presentations
What? What kind of retard would make up a list like that? And where did all those 'somes' escape from and why oh why had they chosen my feedback form to settle down and procreate busily? Perhaps my manager would give himself a hernia laughing at the list. That is my only hope.

My unglamorous disease

I haven't blogged for a while. I have a good excuse though. A boil in my nose. This is a terrible ailment to suffer from, and having suffered for a week, I am the resident expert. It starts with a pain where you've never had a pain before. Slowly, but surely, the pain escalates. Of course, at no stage of this disease can you actually see whats going on. How big is the boil? Is it reproducing? Is it filling with pus? Is your nose going to turn gangrenous and fall off? You have no choice but to wait and watch, and of course, suffer increasingly. You will be at work, looking at the world through a mist of pain, unable to breathe a word of the agony or your courage to a soul. Let's face it. You can sing the saga of a fracture. Or an appendectomy. You simply cannot discuss something as disgusting as a nose boil. Its like talking about an STD. So, you're forced to suffer in silence - and trust me, that has to be the most difficult way to suffer. And now, your pet boil will betray you. Though it is safely ensconced deep within your nose, it will cause your nose to swell. If that is not ridiculous enough, the area will also turn an alarming shade of red. Since my boil was near the tip of my nose, I spent a few days looking like Rudolph's cousin. And for that duration, I noticed that people talked more to my nose than to me. It is very hard to be taken seriously when you look like an inebriated deer. Anyway, I'm all better now and very busy counting my blessings, namely
a. I don't have syphilis
b. I can put away my smile of patient suffering
c. My nose is no longer large enough to give Pluto competition
Cheers!