Never ever thought that I would write such a post, but I have to speak of the first time that I actually liked a day of work at the office and that day is today. The day starts normally enough with the cab impatiently honking its horn in front of my apartment buliding as I curse myself for the umpteenth time for not being ready on time. I stagger into office crushed under the weight of the long list of jobs that I have to get done both in and outside the office before the day is through. By the time, I have blundered my way only through about 2-3 of them, it is time to head out of office to the Registry of Motor Vehicles, Taunton to apply for my American driving license. For a change, the cab comes right on call, an indication that things are looking up. I land up in the RMV office and the documentation process goes like a breeze. That is one big furrow off my forehead. I am one step closer to my simple wish of renting a truly American car like a Mustang or a Jeep, and driving down these smooth, broad roads that seem to pepper America which are absolutely begging to be driven on and fast.
Next stop is the manager's office for the apartment where I live. There are a number of legal agreements which needed to signed and the fellow has shown no inclination of picking up the phone. So I have to skip out of office to deal with him in person as my office hours are the same as his, and I couldn't hope to find him on an holiday. Turns out that the fellow's office is locked, and just when things were about to get sour, I call an alternate number to find my problems solved on the phone itself. The sunshine seems brighter by the minute. As I wait for the cab to show up again, I sneak into my flat and fix myself a peg of rum with sausages. Now I am really happy.
A hurriedly sipped peg of rum later, the cab shows up and zips me back to office on an empty road. I catch no traffic at all! That's a good omen again. I get down from the cab to run into the prettiest blonde in our office hanging around outside the entrance to the building. She's all alone and seems bemusedly tolerant of my gaze. The peg of rum may have had something to do about it, but when a pretty girl doesn't cold shoulder your insistent stare or feel uncomfortable about it, it makes you feel good. And so good I felt!
Then into office, and from meeting to meeting, job to job, everything falls into place. Every appointment kept and significant progress made on each of them. A trip out to the back of the building with the regulars for a smoke turns out to be a laugh riot, and I re-enter with an unnatural pleasantness on my face. By the end of the day, I have accomplished more out of what would be a 4-5 hour workday than in the past 10-12 hour workdays that I had put in. I am astounded at my efficiency of my performance and at the satisfaction that I feel at this accomplishment. Maybe the mid-day peg of rum is actually an unnecessarily derided solution for success and happy office days!