A picture says a thousand words

But what if that picture is blurry. I don’t mean a little hazy, indistinct or smudged, but really bloody blurry. Like the guy who paints with jumbo jet engine streams and tins of paint. Messy. Mostly random. Mixed. Not clear. But overall it is still a picture. It has component colours. It is a layering of colours which sometimes repeat. A bit like work for me at the minute.

See now: she doesn’t call me Rach. Interesting that, but I’m sure it’s something else. Maybe it is just nothing too. What is your hypothesis? I posit that She uses my full name instead of my shortened name as a method of formalising and controlling our relationship. Asking her to call me by the name I sign off with is a way of testing the hypothesis. If I ask more than once and she continues then I can test my hypothisis more deeply. Until then research no further.

This week has a slightly different cast too it. A storm cloud shifted slightly, which let in some light. Two weeks ago I was reeling from another nail in the op ex coffin, dealing with discovery of deliberate discreditation when I got the data window shattered and bricked over. Then I asked for some help and got some really good coaching, had a very different type of conversation with Chris and found a crack in the bricks that is big enough to get enough of a handhold to get things moving again.

Did you know it is scientifically impossible to fart and sneeze at the same time? Or that roman horses arses determined the gauge of railway tracks of today? Or that giraffes go to high school? It’s been a funny day. One I hope to remember.