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...the one that unwinds this coil of tension between my shoulder blades?

Good god, I've discovered a new circle of hell. It exists on the 14th floor of the World's Tallest Basement. It is overseen by Norm, whose instruments of torture include Rev-Proc 2010-26 and data transfer files for the Internal Revenue Service that have to be analyzed--by a highly-paid human being (such as myself, for instance)--in detail, across rows 175 columns wide.

I was ready to tear my hair out--I mean, I was literally clutching at it. We're too slammed to take time to develop a more efficient way of getting done what needs to be done, and I suspect that Norm really likes to work this way. I don't mind detail work, and I don't mind a little drudgery, but I hate the kind of gross, slogging inefficiency baked into the system by a workaholic who needs to feel important.

My temper got the better of me around 6:00 this evening after losing my place for the fifth time in the Rev Proc 2010-26, and I said, "God! There has to be a better way of doing this!"

Norm: "I haven't found one."

Me: "Yeah, well, that doesn't mean one doesn't exist."

I'm not the world's most courteous person, but really, I try to be more contained than that. I'd just had enough. Since October 17 when I started eating 2000 calories a day, I have not been tempted to eat 3000--or 4000--until today. This evening I want to eat the world. The whole wide world, which I understand has a creamy truffle filling.

I'm giving serious consideration to a 140-calorie double shot of Laphroaig as a moderate alternative.

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