At the end of The Shawshank Redemption Morgan Freeman walks across the sand towards Tim Robbins who's sanding his boat. I think that what Freeman's character is thinking at that moment is: "Hot damn, we've got a boat!" And Robbins is thinking: "Thank Christ, now I have some help..."
There are, I believe, two schools of thought to the sanding of boats. There are the romantics and idealists who see it as an honourable task: the care and attention taken to the noblest of all travelling vessels in man's eternal quest to battle the greatest of the elements; the constant struggle of our ultimate destiny with total freedom. Then there is everyone else who thinks it's just nuts.
None of the first group actually own boats.
My hands are rubbed raw, everything hurts, I have splinters with splinters in. There is so much more to do it's quite terrifying.
Of course I loved every last skin flaking minute of it. I'd still be sanding now if it wasn't a) dark and b) I'm physically incapable of doing any more.
This past week at work has been what management trainers would call 'challenging'. This is possibly why they fall only a few paces above traffic wardens and third world dictators in the food chain. If I want to be challenged I'll try talking to someone in a civil manner before I've had a shower.
Tunes: Pearl Jam: Pearl Jam
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