For Honor. For Glory. For the holiday weekend.

This morning was an almost silent, contemplative ride to work. Mindreader wasn’t even there So I was alone with my thoughts. Since I was sick yesterday and it’s Friday today I feel like I should maybe offer my fellow Pubtranspos some encouragement. It felt like we were riding together across the channel to be target practice for the Friday pre-holiday workflow. I SHOULD say something. Something rousing to get them through the day; to send them into the jaws of work with the good stuff to get them back out again at 4 o’clock.  Really we’re in this together. It’s not like the workdays are any easier on me. When those doors open into the blistering morning and the enemy day starts gunning for us I’m a target just like everybody else. She shows us no mercy. She gives us no quarter and she does not take prisoners. Some of us may fall. Not all of us will make it back in time, captured and chained in overtime long past happy hour. And while those things be true we don’t blink and we don’t quake like scared little interns. We’re on the job and we do not rattle.

“Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
 Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
 Rode the six hundred.”*

8 Hours of blood and faxes, sweating through meetings, and sucking the last drops of bitter salvation out of little Styrofoam canteens.

Bring it on.

*Charge of the Light Brigade.
Get some knowledge in you.