3 in the morning and the dog needs outside. It's raining and muggy, and the wind is ripping through like a banshee-- not enough to be even hinting at a tornado, but enough that I'll have to clean up the yard in the morning.
The last couple of days have been brimming full of stuff, between end-of-sprint at work and the last month before Convergence with a handful of not-so-small projects eating up my time like a walrus snarfing fried chicken, I am doing a lot of stuff and I have a lot more to do.
I enjoy being busy to capacity for short periods of time when the busy-ness is born of the creative side. The whole work/project management thing is actually kinda cool because I have a fairly free reign to design the process (around certain restrictions), and knowing the different folks who need to be satisfied, it's my job to create this framework that not only satisfies them but provides measurable progress toward a goal. And what I've done is working; people are happy. It's a whole other side of creation that I've never experienced before, subtle and nuanced and formed differently than other creative outlets.
Part of the fun is that it's really strongly akin to designing a board game. There are rules about who can play, how turns happen, a manner of keeping score, short-term and long-term goals, and a strategy for each player to determine on their own. Plus there are little tokens that move on a board based on your actions. No dice, but there is a card-playing phase. I am highly amused, even though I haven't worked any skulls into the artwork anywhere.
There's also a work-related programming project that I need to take on after the world dies down a little. It's a good winter project, assuming that the world doesn't kick me in the ass again. And I may work a skull or two into that one, just for fun.
The stuff for Convergence is a bit of a last-minute gig, and one that's enough of a challenge so as to be daunting. I've figured out the technical details and started assembly, and will probably be screaming for helpers soon. It's pretty easy stuff, but there's a lot of it to do.
But this moment of standing on the back porch with the wind and the rain and the fuzzy love-dog cavorting in the yard trying to dodge raindrops reminded me that things aren't so bad, that there are islands of happiness hidden amongst the oceans of inevitability, and maybe, just maybe, one of those oceans is full of emotionally stable strippers and tropical drinks served on a warm beach under palm trees.