Ya take the money, ya do the job.

While I was working dial-up support, I once spent an entire afternoon on-again, off-again, helping a customer who started out with a Windows 95 system with no networking compoents and no modem driver work toward actually getting himself online via dial-up. We never quite got it, but we got close. Each time he'd call back, I'd tell him what was wrong with his computer this time, and he'd hang up and go see if he could fix that. After the third or forth time, I told him, "I think you're beating a dead horse, but as long as you're making progress, I'll help you beat it."

It all comes down to a question of what I really get paid for. In my own head, my job is to provide all the information I can to help my boss make the best decision possible. Then I have to execute that decision, whether I ultimately agree with it or not. As long as I've advised to the best of my ability, I feel like I've done my job, even if my advice is ignored.

Today I find my advice being taken on small-scale things, but ignored on a lot of large-scale things. That's okay. It means I'm not happy here, but I don't expect happiness, at this point. I guess mostly I'm feeling angsty because I'm reasonably sure a couple of these large-scale things are going to come back and bite us on the ass. And yeah, it won't technically be my ass. It'll be the ass that made the decision. But I know that particular ass, and I rather like the person who's attached to it. She's not a bad person. In-depth research and long-range planning simply aren't what I consider her best skills.

There's a right way and there's a fast way, and I find that, with my digging in my heels, we're splitting the difference. But I feel like I'm digging furrows in the ground and bloodying my feet, and splitting the difference isn't always the most defensible thing in the world.

I guess I just want out of here. I see the train coming; I don't want to be here when it crashes.