I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...
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Yesterday at a training session for work, I was shown in great detail how to fold a piece of paper correctly.
It didn't make me so much mad inside my head, as numb from the neck up.
Now, I am deadly serious when I say that I believe that sitting through it in some small way made me more stupid.
One of the outstanding quotes from that session: "When you talk to clients, it is best not to abuse them, insult them or assault them". I am certainly glad that they come all the way to tell people that. I'm pretty sure that those three things were the first thing that came to mind of everybody when confronted with a difficult client!