off to war

Last week ended on a cliffhanger at work. A junior designer finally cracked under the pressure. Gathering her belongings, she announced that everyone could go to hell and beat a hasty retreat from the shop.Her departure left a trail of unfinished work and, as these things tend to do, much of the resulting mess landed squarely in my lap. Just before leaving for the weekend, I was handed my share of the wreckage to sort out, starting first thing tomorrow morning.I'm barely keeping my head above water as it is, drowning in a sea of school diaries, award certificates, annual reports and calendars. An installation at a client's offices in Arcadia awaits on Tuesday, adding another appointment to a schedule that has long since ceased to resemble anything manageable.There is no breathing room. No prospect of catching up. Each task completed merely makes space for another, while the pile of outstanding work remains stubbornly undiminished.I have been here before. Many times. The institution…