herding cats

It seems futile to try and document the craziness that I seem to attract, like some kind of fucked up magnet, but there are so many high notes amongst the extreme lows that I feel compelled to try and apply some kind of sense to it all.

Friday was nuts - landed in Chicago on about 2hrs sleep after a night out in the meatpacking district to find that all plans were off, meaning I was here for no reason, and the bosses were getting their twigs out to draw battle lines in the sand (and other such dramatic gestures.)

However, I then realized it was past midnight in Dxb, and other boss was on a plane, so I had breathing space.

Arrived at the CME to meet the team, and promptly went to see the trading floors. Awesome. Fifteen times as big as I'd imagined, and a million times as impressive. The sheer energy and tension was palpable, even four stories up looking down on them all from the viewing windows. When Allan came down he whisked me off to actually walk the floor - dodging through the melee of men (and occasional woman) in their signature jackets, yelling and screaming nonsensical signals to unidentifiable others. We stood on the broadcast platform, cocooned in the noise, the buzz, the insanity, and I'm not ashamed to say that my jaw, literally, dropped. It was incredible.

Sitting in their cubicled office floor after that was somewhat of a comedown. The requisite adrenaline was supplied by the fact my bosses had now woken up, received my mail about the rather monumental change in plan, and were (understandably) kicking off. Various terse calls and conference calls ensued, and somehow, amazingly, fate (and a bit of silver-tongued bullshit from yours truly) put us right back 8hrs to the initial plan. Stunned and psyched (to use an americanism in honour of my current location) .... Is putting it lightly. Unfortunately that then meant lots more work, and I stumbled back to the hotel at about 7, did a bit more work, ate some sushi and collapsed in to bed at 9, missing a call from the boy bill (an aramco friend I was supposed to be meeting after, oh, 20yrs of no sight) which was a shame.

Saturday dawned, and I woke at 6am, which is an almost decent hour - and sleep - given the ridiculous lack of sleep I'd had on Thurs, coupled with jet lag. Called mum for a reality check, then settled in for dozing and crap tv (Charmed - love it) only to receive a call at 8am from a panicky boss wanting to go over the plans.

Decided that the only option was to seize any "me time" I had, while I had it. Pootled downstairs for the most ambrosial breakfast - there is nothing like mini pancakes with maple syrup and fresh fruit, crispy american bacon, proper american hash browns (in a fresh, fragrant heap - none of this over crisped, out of the freezer, pre-formed crap) with an english muffin, boiled eggs, and unlimited coffee and juice. Set me up nicely for a wander around bucktown - an adorable boutiquey suburb with shops like Marc Jacobs sitting comfortably next to proper, cheap, vintage stocked treasure troves. By the time I'd walked for 4hrs (picking up an english tweed flat cap on the way - obviously) I was ready for lunch, which came in the form of the best (best, best, best) pastrami,swiss and pickle sandwich ever, in the tiny, but atmospheric, milk/honey cafe. Fell in to a cab back to hotel, with great plans to continue shopping, but the work hell intervened again.

I'm bored of ranting, a phrase I never thought appropriate to this forum, but I truly do not have the time or inclination to catalogue the comedy of errors my team have clocked up in the planning of this trip. Yes, it is my fault in the end, as that's what it means to be in charge, but it profoundly depresses me to be in charge of such muppets. No joke.

So now I sit here, at midnight, in the hotel bar, nursing a well deserved Jamesons. I'm still up because Dubai has now woken up, so with any luck I can untangle some of the horrors before they cause material damage, which I hope and pray I've achieved. During the course of the evening I've chatted to a man working for AP and billeted to Obama's motorcade - today they watched him go to the gym. This is a guy who's been in Gaza covering shootings in his street. Later I chatted to a security guard who is also a Chicago policeman, and who was in Iraq in 03 when it was at its peak.He was watching the entrance to the (rather tame) hotel bar. Puts my work rants in to perspective.