I worked on a project recently that had very tight deadlines. Very tight deadlines. Tight deadlines.
Here’s how it unfolded (abbreviated version):
All ducks were corralled and set in a straight line – studio, producer, engineer, musicians, manufacturer, and all the other details required to record and manufacture a CD. Photos – done. Artwork, design – ready to go. Printing of jackets (done in Quebec because of good prices, good service, guaranteed on-time delivery) all lined up.
Everything was ready. Final step – the jackets. As promised, they were shipped on Thursday night and arrived in the local depot at 07:00 Friday morning…where they sat until Tuesday morning. We finally took receipt of the jackets and were able to get the whole project packaged and ready to hit the road with us.
Today, the 25th of November, I sit and wait for another package (that requires my signature before it is released). I can track the steps this parcel has taken since it’s departure from the warehouse. It started it’s journey in Shanghai on the 19th, made its way to Dieppe NB, the 22nd, by way of Anchorage, Alaska, Louisville, Kentucky, Mount Hope, Ontario. Since the 23rd, it has been sitting in the local depot in Dartmouth waiting to be delivered. Well, I presume that, because I see in the tracking info that it’s there and has not moved since arriving there. In the interest of fairness, the 23rd brought the first snow of the season and people stayed put. But yesterday was beautiful and still no delivery.
I picture a person going into a warehouse, looking at the parcels that wait to be delivered (need to be delivered, should have been delivered), scratching his or her head while muttering “Geez, thems a lotta boxes – gotta think on this for a day or two”. I know it can’t really be like this, but the image does pop into my head in a bitter, unkind fashion.
Say what you will (and do) about Canada Post, but they usually get parcels to me. And if they attempt delivery when I’m out, they either try again, leave it with a neighbour or hold it at the post office outlet, which is four blocks away, and easy stroll from my house. This is a breeze, compared to the 45 minute drive (which requires crossing a toll bridge twice) into an industrial and commercial maze.
I will leave the house today around noon, and I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that the courier will arrive at about 12:15. When I get home tomorrow I’ll find a little notice in the mailbox letting me know that I can pick my parcel up on Monday because the depot is closed Saturday and Sunday.
Just checked the tracking info for my estimated delivery time. Last updated: Yesterday at 09:44. Shoulda guessed…
Well, what a whinging post this is. Some days are like that.