Blogging about work

Don't do it much. But, when I was reading the Jeffrey Archer book, there was a poem at the beginning that pretty much sums what is going on over here. No one has quite reached the state of zen represented in the last stanza, though. We're all pretty much stuck in 1-3.

Invictus


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced or cried aloud;
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade.
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley