Categories: translation, trials
Date: 19 March 2010 21:34:19
I have had a tiring week one way and another. It all came to a head on Wednesday when my computer was soooooo sloooooowwww it took about 5 seconds for each character to register on the screen - and searching the net was completely out of the question (this is something I do several times an hour to research terms, etc.). A document that should have taken about 2 hours to translate took about 6 hours. I had 20 minutes before the deadline to research the final obscure term (the doc was all about pensions) so I raced round to Mrs Cupcake's. She was in her kitchen knee deep in a hundreds of cakes she was producing for a big event the following evening. She kindly swept her desk of all papers (an unnecessary act) and let me use her laptop. The term I sought was particularly stubborn (although Mrs C's computer was a dream to work with - so smoooooth, so fast) and so I had to literally make up a translation.... not a solution I ever feel happy with... particularly when I feel slightly unsure of the subject matter to boot.
I belted back to my place to meet the 4 pm deadline. By now it was 4.02. An email arrived at 4.06 from the project manager asking when I would be sending the document. I phoned to say it was on its way, apologising for my tardiness. (In case you hadn't realised, when they give a deadline in this game, dead is the operative word.)
I felt completely stressed by the day (not to mention the pressure I had been under to produce umpteen thousand words over the previous few days... including Sunday...wah. [Can you turn up the volume... I can't hear those lamenting violins very clearly...] and thought I might go for a little walk to clear my head. As I passed by my bed, I thought a ten minute rest would be a good idea first. Four hours later....
That evening of course I could not get to sleep at a "normal" time. I was still awake at 4.30 am. Humph. Similar repeat last night (Thursday).
Now it is Friday evening and I have a mountain of work to get through for Tuesday. I've negotiated an extra two hours on the deadline - and I'll need every minute... so why am I spending precious moments blogging about my plight? Well, dear reader, I've just poured myself a glass of wine to drink while I tackle the transcription of an interview about a poor chap who at the age of 20 in 1985 became a paraplegic - literally from one day to the next.
I'm now wondering if the wine is a good idea....