I may have fucked up on this project I’m working on.
I forgot to take down a lot of things such as to do’s, and complicated the progress because of Pontius’ changes on the loading plan, Pilate’s changing the column size here and there, while Judas Iscariot thinks we should scrap everything we did! Add to that the calculations I can’t trace and the checking I failed to do.
One reason is because I’ve let my blogging life eat a lot of my time. Yeah I love blogging. You’re not reading this if I don’t. Second is I’m continuously checking my stats; who liked this, who liked what, who liked who (WHAT?!). Traffic on my site has been good this past few days, comments pouring in, views improving – this got me busy. It’s a great mind-to-mind interaction with amazing people you cannot even see.
But the main reason I fucked up is because I failed to concentrate. My brains’ going here and there crazy as fuck!
But it’s either my job or myself that gets fucked up when it sways far enough to the other side.
If I’m extremely focused on my work, chances are I’m forgetting/neglecting other aspects. I am not living in the moment because I am so absorbed in my technical soliloquies:
- “Where did the fuckin’ load go?”
- “Why, the fuckin’ bending moments’re freakin’ huge?!”
- These crazy as fuck reactions doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense!
And I say them out loud. It’s because they won’t set in just by thinking. I need to say it out loud like I’m talking to another person, and learning something out of the interaction. It’s enlightening and lunatic at the same time.
And I get the tendency as well to be obsessed to hunting the explanations behind the results generated by the computer. In using programs for analysis and design of buildings, there is a saying that using a software is garbage in – garbage out. If your input is wrong, the output is fucking wrong and the design is all fucked up! When earthquake strikes, one can only pray for a miracle so that the occupants will not get fucked up to their deaths as well. And it is only through instinct by constant repetition that one can spot the odd, zero in on it and find the problem before it fucks everything out.
And when that grind hits, I draw out all my experiences on the table like cards so that I can analyse and rationalize what just happened with the results.
Yes, I need to question the output, otherwise I’ll just be a slave, a mere technician of the software instead of a thinking and handsome engineer. I need to be able to explain that the deflection at the cantilevered end helped elevate the adjacent interior span that the columns are too slender the building is swaying like crazy.
And once I find the explanations make sense, I start to foresee chokepoints and traps where a more rigorous check is needed. And when I finally find it, did something to avert the unwanted situation, go to my superior and report it, I pat myself in the back by telling myself “you’re one big, wicked beast!”
Depending on the intensity, the brain starts to liquefy either at the end of the day or at best, before lunch.
To give you an idea what liquefaction is, let’s get a bit technical. During earthquakes the ground vibrates up and down, back and forth, side to side, and depending on the soil properties, under a certain amount of vibration, the soil behaves like a fluid rather than a solid ground thus magnifying exponentially the results of the shaking from the perceived intensity to the actual damage. And when that happens, boy, are we all fucked up!
Now back to brain liquefaction.
One sign of brain liquefaction is when I am at a public transport, alone, talking to myself and just staring ahead with little or no regard at all to what’s going on around me. I am that engrossed with what fucked and fried my mind earlier. Very much like a mindless corpse, a ghoul or a corrupt politician. During those times, my mind is still in my calculations: bend here, shear there, twist everywhere.
Glad to have arrived home without losing my things because of my absent-mindedness. And as I try to eat my cold and stale supper (much like my brain!), I still can’t stop myself from thinking: bend here, shear there, twist everywhere. Even as I seat on the toilet never minding the abomination going out, I still can’t stop myself from thinking: bend here, shear there, twist everywhere. And before I go to sleep, well what do you know? I made myself a fuckin’ lullabye!!
“If you’re mind-fucked and you know it clap your hands,
If you’re mind-fucked and you know it clap your hands,
If you’re mind-fucked and you know it and your face will fuckin’ show it,
If you’re mind-fucked and you know it clap your hands!!!”
So what do you think do I feel having a liquefied fried-and-fucked-up brain at the end of the day?
Very fuckin’ happy!!!