The whole day seemed like one big party. Everyone was in a festive mood and there was much laughing and conversation, munchies and good coffee. Everyone who happened by was welcomed with open arms, especially if they happened to be carrying yummy comestibles. Word spread. Pretty soon it seemed as though we were celebrating something, though no one had any idea what.

I felt like Oscar the Grouch, because I had a major project to put together and a looming deadline. This is the first one of the fiscal year, and it is always the toughest quarter to put together and analyze.

The odd thing is--we do this project every year, every quarter. None of my subordinates is a new hire; most have been with the company at least ten years, meaning multiple iterations of this project.

Yet every year, the first quarter of the year, I get the raggedy-est butt-end slap dash figures and lists. And every year, this one being no exception, I have to send them back or call on the phone and get the mishmash straightened out. I don't understand it. It's not rocket science or open heart surgery. Why can't they do it right the first time?

The next one will be mostly fine with only a little tweaking. But this one! I spent seven straight hours on it and I have more to do on Monday: the analysis of the data, now that it's in presentable form. The analysis is actually where my specialty lies, what I'm best at and what I was hired for. It galls me to have to spend so many hours cleaning up the Excel formulas and formatting. That is supposedly their job.

Batty knows what I'm talking about. She used to be the head of said project and I'm sure she felt that same way when those of us in the field sent our sections to her to compile.

Anyway, I didn't join the party. No time. Just enjoyed it vicariously and gritted my teeth when it got too loud and distracting.