Where do I start? From here: We were supposed to have prepared the plans of this project this Monday and send them to the boss, but the engineering project manager's grandma passed away. The manager's heart was crushed. His entire world turned black and he sank into despair. At the end, the project was delayed and the plans weren't ready in time. When are they going to get ready? Next month. Our boss sent a longwinded email yesterday, which in brief read" I didn't get the project on time today. I'd like to schedule a meeting to screw you tomorrow." —Just for a one-month delay. I sank into despair too. It was a big threat, so in order to stop thinking about my fate, I scrolled through YouTube. I found Dr H. Do I know him? No. He was talking about the difference between a narrative and information. He gave the analogy of an old lady who goes to the doctor and narrates the knee pain, like "My knee hurts and I can't see my daughter anymore because I'm stuck at home, etc." She tells the humane part of the story, but the doctor just talks facts and information, like "the fibular joint is fractured, etc." —The language of statistics and information. Dr H talked about this for about 15 minutes and turned on the light in one of the dark rooms of my brain. A room that has always been there, but always dark. Thanks, doctor!

My life, job and surroundings turn around information. — the dry wheel of information, just like this one-month delayed project. 297 f...ing pages of plans should be handed to a f...ing boss. —Dry/boring information. Narrative is the manager's grandma's death that has crumpled his heart and that's why the project isn't ready yet. The person himself is the core of the narrative. This morning I made a sword out of Dr H's words and went to the meeting without the engineering projectmanager. The war/fight started.— the war between information and narrative. I won. Why? Because I knew that narrative was more powerful. I turned the narrative of the grandma into a pipe and put it in the boss's throat and let it stay there. I took a one-month deadline/putoff for the plans. — without being screwed.

Thanks, Doctor! Since last night, my world is divided into to parts: the world of information and the world of narrative. I'm going through the world of information and turning them into narrative, even the pains. The narrative of pain is easier beared than the state of pain. As doctor H said, "Narrative is the core of everything." The manager's grandma died of a brain aneurysm and the manager didn't hand down his project on time. So boring and dry and like a report. But the narrative is the manager's pain, who has been visiting his grandma every evening and having dinner together, eating an ice cream afterwards and recently, watching an episode of Friends. The manager hadn't visited her last month because of too much work pressure. Later, the police had called him to talk about her brain aneurysm, and so on. That's why the engineering manager had gotten crushed like a soda can. This was the narrative of the delayed project. The story is the same, but the core of the narrative is death and a crumpled/crushed human, not a delayed project. High five, doctor H!

I'm glad that I recorded this to myself. Probably, I'm going to see the events from a different angle. I'll be more easygoing. I'll enter the world of information like/as a narrative. Narrative is the cotton on the metal springs of the mattress of information.