So, this is my brain.
The one on the right, full of lemons? Yeah, that’s what I know about Shell Oilsands geology.
These are my co-workers.
Actually, more accurately, this is representative of the sum total of time and interest that my co-workers have to learn about Shell Oilsands geology. Putting what I know into what they have the ability to learn has been exhausting on all count. I’ve had to delicately distill and decant the lemony essence of oilsands geology into their shotglasses in the short time they had before they flew off up north to do their jobs – the jobs that I should be going to go do but I can’t because I’m at a course all next week to refill one of those pitchers. (Likely the one in the back, full of cucumbers. Cucumbers are good. It might be more apples, though, the course description wasn’t clear. Either way there will be even more stuff in my brain, and I’m actually pretty happy with that. My mind is a Crazy Cat Lady. Except my mind collects thoughts and facts not tabbies. And my thoughts won’t eat my corpse if I happen to keel over dead and no one notices for over a week. I hope.)
The point is that my brain feels like a dishrag that has been wrung and refolded and wrung again to get every last little drop of moisture out of it before laying it out on the clothesline to bake in the hot sun and dessicating wind. In the Gobi. I keep looking at my drafts folder and thinking maybe, maybe I should write something but I’m so tired from writing what is basically a summary of everything – everything – I’ve learned in the past two years so that my northward-bound colleagues have something to do on the plane instead of watch some crappy movie that I just don’t have the energy.
I’ll try harder, I really want to get some of these posts out there but the only thing I can think right now is how to tell an engineer that the defining feature of the MM1/LM2 contact is a scour feature that is sometimes pyritized and also to make room in my head for what he’s trying to tell me about slip circles and swamp muds but slip circle information is somehow completely immisicble with lemon-flavoured water and it just didn’t stick. I’m sorry Mike, it’s not that I wasn’t listening, it’s just that my brain was busy pouring at the time.
I think the pitcher on the front left is vodka, not water. So the weekend might be ok. I wish you all well and I hope all you Amurricans have a happy long weekend and don’t get into too much trouble!
Post Scriptum: The full shotglass I think is one of the students. Everytime I try to tell them something, all they have on their minds is beer. I miss those days.
Artisan Level 