it’s the little things
Catching waves is a million things, starting from the first thought when you wake up ten minutes too late to be the first out – because that’s all it takes. One car parked under the light behind the surfclub before you is too many. So it goes.
Lots happens out there, sometimes all at once, too much to remember and by the time you’re back at the car and looked at a clock it’s a shit uphill working day.
Too late for the best bus into the city, too late for a coffee on the way into the office, no time for a twenty minute internet browse before clocking onto yesterday’s sonofabitch consolidated monthly financial Australia / Asia corporate spreadsheet. That fucker. The one that won’t balance when you divide the difference by nine. Which means number dyslexia is out.
Two days on it now now and the bastards who developed it have left no room for a one sided entry, the accountant’s friend.
This is a kind of a niche post ..
Which means the Asian ladies in Singapore Head Office will start copying their hurry up emails to the Finance Director today, and he’s a career ponce of the first order. Fifty people a day get hit by cars in Sydney and he’s still not one of them, because he’s the guy over your shoulder this morning. He wants results, make it happen he says.
He should be a wife so you could divorce him, a young brother so you could smack him.
Then you remember, this morning on wave four, the one that was a little outside and steep and caught you by surprise.
Two deep paddles towards it and then with one foot on the tail you jammed the back of the board into the water and pivoted around, sunk everything back into the face, and took off without paddling. The Archimedes principle, what gets pushed down into water comes back nice and handy on the downward slope of a glassy wave.
Who needs a degree?
It’s the little things. They can be a big help.
image by don macdonald