PRE-EMPTIVE TL;DR WARNING: This post is long
Occasionally I am asked to supervise the production of some movie for my department. The reason for this is not clear, as I have not studied media nor have any experience in this field. All the same, the task falls on me.
Now, that doesn't mean I have to do the work. Not in theory, anyways - there is a separate department dedicated to doing all this stuff, a department full of people who have passed relevant courses. Unfortunately it appears these people are semi retarded, not to mention lazy - I could figure out how to use their software and make a better movie than them in the time it takes them to squabble over who has to deal with the work this time (and once someone is chosen, you have to stick with that one person regardless of how little of their precious time they can spare you). The one time I did try to get something done by myself however, I was reprimanded. So, so much for that.
So, I find myself watching over some primitive reminder that we are indeed descended from apes as she clicks hopelessly at the raw material, quietly cursing the fact that from all the options available to her in this powerful software, the best she can come up with is fade in/out and the occasional badly timed cut. Any attempts at input or helpful advice ("don't cut there, it looks ridiculous") are disregarded because I, of course, have not passed the prestigious editing courses they have - making my presence there all the less meaningful. This will go on for a few days, with me essentially babysitting these wastes of salary without contributing anything until somehow the project is finished. At the end of this I am given partial credit for the movie, something which I would rather not have.
Background over, story begin:
I was meant to go out on a kinda sorta date with someone [the "wild physicist"] recently. Half an hour before I was set to leave, and with him already waiting somewhere an hour away, these imbeciles remember to call me down to finish something super urgent. Something that could not be put off until the next day.
Very well, thus I - for we have already edited everything, I continue to assure myself, and this is a mere issue of finishing touches, which shall surely not hamper my timely departure from the base, I conclude. Ah, optimism.
I sit down with them to only to discover that our work has mysteriously vanished. At some point over a span of 48 short hours, some buffoon managed to sift through the disorganised mess on their computers and, in the confusion, delete not only the edited movie but also the original clips.
"No matter," says my commander upon this discovery, before aiming a charming Moroccan saying at me, the innocent victim of this all: "Where there isn't a brain, there are legs."
And so off I go in search of the original clips.
And then there I stay an hour overtime* while we make the movie from scratch.
And then off I go, in the rain, to the poor physicist who's been waiting for an hour in some random place with nothing to do.
That kinda-sorta-date went well, but... well, more on that later.
Rushed rant over.
And now, an attempt to capture my frustration in watercolour! I will speak no more of this department (for now).
"But it looks fine."
*Soldiers doing compulsory service do not get paid overtime. Hell, they barely get paid.