Today I had a work assignment about 15 miles away from my house. Since I was already going to be in the area, I scheduled a second one just a mile down the road from the first.
One of the requirements of the second assignment was to take a photo of the building. I did. then uploaded and submitted it to the company when I got home in the middle of the afternoon. Fifteen minutes later they sent me a message that said the photo didn't meet the standards. They wanted me to go back and re-take it within 24 hours.
At first I thought about telling them what they could do with their request, but then I reconsidered. It wouldn't be very professional to bail on a job requirement, so I decided to suck it up and make the second trip. The problem was that my schedule for tomorrow will take me in a different direction. I'd have to complete the photo re-shoot tonight. After dinner I waited for rush hour traffic to die down, then got back in the car for the second drive to the area in a day.
Thanks to the change back to standard time it was dark, which didn't make me any happier. I try to live my life by the motto 'everything happens for a reason', so as I drove along I tried to figure out why I was needing to make this trip. Would I talk to someone I wouldn't have encountered otherwise, see something interesting, or hear something new and different on the radio? However, I talked to no one (unless you could the choice words I sent towards an erratic driver-he couldn't hear me, so they probably didn't count). There were no outstanding sights at all. It was interesting, but not earth shattering, to hear the same song playing on two different radio preset stations at the same time.
After a 25-minute drive I got to the store, stood across the street, and took several photos. I'm no expert, but I think my daytime photos were better. However, I'm not the one setting the standards, so when I got home I sent the shots off through cyberspace to the company. As I did it I realized this time there was no deep meaning to the evening's adventure. The moral of the story is that I should have done it right the first time.
Five years ago today: Squishy Squash