When is a crisis a crisis?


As
M. de Ours Nus
is aware I’ve been battling a few mini-crises in the last couple of weeks.


  1. My new iphone broke and I was informed it would take 4-6 weeks to fix.
  2. My electricity was turned off last week because after 2.5 months my service provider had not connected my account.
  3. One of my stitched projects came out a bit bigger than anticipated and the initial postage/courier quote was over $200.00


  1. Was, thanks to an Apple retail store, fixed within 15 minutes the next day I had off work.
  2. Was, thanks to the Energy and Water Ombudsman’s office, reconnected at 8:30pm the next night.
  3. Was, thanks to some advice from Australian Air Express, posted for $11.50.


So my crises have caused a slight panic and many many hours on the telephone getting the right advice and all is now well.  I kinda felt a bit silly about getting overwrought by such issues that were ultimately, resolved in a short period of time and quite to my satisfaction.

Then I get to work today. We have a whole of unit afternoon tea scheduled for this afternoon.  We meet, the manager tells us we did good, we eat.  Everyone brings a plate.

The place is in an uproar!  Person X bought their food instead of making it!  Persons P & Q both bought chocolate cakes !!!  This should have been planned better – there should have been a spreadsheet !!!!!

Huh?  I work on the assumption everyone brings what they themselves want to eat.  So if all 30 people turn up with packets of Tim Tams then I assume every one of those 30 people want to eat Tim Tams ….   How?  Why is this a crisis?

Do I need to give my section more work to do?  Less work?  Are they that overwrought with "Getting it RIGHT for Christmas ™"?

Hmmm – in the spirit of reducing overwroughtness this season I will no longer fret about Hector II the Zombie Christmas Tree.

Hector didn’t make the transition interstate too well and most of his needles died.  He’s been re-potted and fed fertilizer etc and he’s starting to get new shoots.  Frankly he looks ghastly!  This is the very best picture I could take of him – all the other pics were worse.

But I’m not going to stress.  I’m not going to fret and compromise my principles and buy a cut tree.  Instead, on Christmas Eve I will bring Hector inside and pretty him up as best I can and laugh with my Christmas Day companions on how appropriate it is for us to be sharing a Zombie Christmas Tree.

I wonder if we could get Jonathan Coulton to write a song: Oh Zombie Tree, Oh Zombie Tree ...



 

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