Are my ears ringing or is it just quiet?

It occurred to me this afternoon that I haven't been really unbusy for a long time, for most of 2009 in fact. This is a good thing, really. For the vast majority of the year, I've been either just busy enough, decently busy, or almost crazy busy. And suddenly, I find myself barely busy enough. And it feels weird.

Last week I wrapped up two deadlines in the same week: TCMC and FCH. On TCMC, we finished the DD drawings, so we're not working on the project at all until the contractor has priced the drawings and Avanta Health has approved of the design, all of which should be completed by early November. The day after the TCMC deadline, Intern Kimmy and I wrapped up the partial DDs and handed them off to Contigo Architects, who will be the architect of record on FCH. They'll complete the DDs and CDs and then oversee construction of the project. Hence, we won't be working on that project at all after last week. The deadlines, as you may recall, came at a great time, as the day after FCH went out the door, my sister flew into town and I was able to take off two full weekdays with her--epic squee! But after the quiet few days I've had, I'm wishing I'd taken three days with her--I ran out of stuff to do today.

Architecture, as I've commented many times here on WAD, is a cyclical bidnazz. Sometimes we're crazy busy, other times we're mostly or partially idle. I was able to help Prudence, the head of interiors, with a small project that needed to go out the door--a two-page permit set to move a door in a clinic--but that ran out this afternoon, and I suddenly realized that the volume of work that had allowed me to bill between 36 and 40 hours for nine months was suddenly gone. What this also means is that the cash flow problem that has been plaguing many of my colleagues has not been a problem for me until now. I know, I've been pretty lucky.

I always get a little freaked out when I'm idle, but I'm sure it won't last. Sven will eventually have something for me, Prudence will need a little help over here, and TCMC will come back and need finishing. Meanwhile, I just have to take a deep breath and be patient. Which is not my strong suit.

Things I thought while riding to and from FCH with Bosley

• There is nothing out here, seriously. Why do people live here? At least I grew up 20 miles from a Kroger in Booger County--this is just ridiculous.
• OMGANTELOPES!11!!!!
• They run like little horses, not deer!
• eeeeeeeeeeee!!!
• I wonder if he's going to make us skip lunch again. Seriously, my stomach nearly ate itself last time we did a meeting out here and we skipped lunch.
• I wish I could make decent homemade brownies at altitude.
• Going back to Georgia for Thanksgiving for the first time in like seven years. I hate the airport, but maybe we'll avoid the rush since we're actually flying on Thanksgiving.
• What will we do with Guy if we go shopping? Well, that's why we're renting a car--he can go do something else.
• Good God, I'm going to be 34 on the 24th.
• Ooh, and I'm supposed to hear about that thing I did the proposal for on the 30th.
• Man, I have to fart.
• Should I buy that suit from AnnTaylor.com? Mom could possibly make me another skirt like that, if she had something to look at.
• Good God, Guy's going to be 41 on the 24th. Well, at least he's still older.
• I do like my men older. They're generally better company.
• Why do Cialis commercials always show two people in twin bathtubs in the middle of a field, or even on a beach? On a beach?! There's already a huge bowl of water for you to play in, but they had to bring their own?
• One of the side effects of Cialis is supposedly delayed backache. How do you know that's not just from hittin' it like you know how? What are the other side effects, drowsiness afterwards, a reluctance to cuddle, and a sudden urge to get a burrito?
• Wait...is Bosley telling me his life story?
• Well, that explains a lot. His parents ignored him, and now he's practically autistic.
• Good God, what are his daughters like?
• What would life be like if Dad were still alive?
• What would life be like if I could move things with my mind?
• Flight or invisibility?
• What if I could breakdance really well?
• I almost did a handstand the other day. I really need to try Scorpion Pose again. But only if Guy's home. Otherwise I'll for sure fall and injure something.
• Man. I still have to fart.

[whew]

I try to post pretty regularly here, Monday-Wednesday-Friday, but the past few days have worn a Shorty out. I had to do an all-day meeting with Bosley up at FCH--we left the office at 6am and didn't get back until 13 hours later. Then, I had a gauntlet of meetings on Friday and had to catch up on all the stuff I missed by being gone all day, and then I had to do some work-related stuff on Saturday morning as well. Hence, I find myself bereft not of inspiration but of energy on this Sunday afternoon.

I haven't posted on my Extreme Balcony Garden lately, so I'm overdue on that (Cliff's Notes: I hate aphids). I've gotten some great emails lately that are fodder for some new posts that don't involve me complaining (well, not as much as usual). Plus a long car ride with Bosley gave me some new insights into his particular brand of oddness. I just don't have the mental wherewithal to write it all down right now. Hell, I haven't even Swiffed the house today.

So, gimme a few days, my people, and I'll find some new solipsistic tripe with which to entertain all nine of you. (Actually, I just noticed that I have 13 followers on WAD, which actually makes me quite happy. More than a dozen people read this!)

(Honestly, if you follow the blog, you're just going to encourage me....)

Meanwhile, back in Architectureland...

...the board of directors for TCMC have approved a couple extra hundred grand to allow for an addition as well as the renovation of their existing surgery suite. Bosley and Howie went to the meeting and presented the pros and cons, the contractors were there to answer some questions about those pros and cons and give their two cents' worth, and Akira from Avanta was there for...some reason, I'm not sure what. Wes evidently couldn't be bothered to go, or maybe he figured there was no reason to show up if increasing the budget was a foregone conclusion. Apparently, during the two weeks between our last meeting with TCMC and their board meeting, there had been more talk amongst the hospital staff and the community, and more support had been garnered for approving the extra cabbage roll if it was at all available.

I'm surprised, but I guess I shouldn't be, really. I'm surprised because it's rare that architecture projects in general and healthcare projects in particular can get extra funds approved, especially here lately in the Land of Ever-Decreasing Funding that is construction finance. However, I've noticed that if a project involves a department that makes money--like imaging or surgery, or in some facilities OB/GYN or physical therapy--boards and CFOs are more likely to go digging through the sofa cushions for change if the project needs more to make it right. No one wants to underfund the improvements of a service line that actually pads the coffers of the facility. (I've heard mixed reviews on renovations of EDs [emergency departments], as they frequently lose money but you can't not have them, or if you do have them they have to be good or you could get sued if someone dies in your ED.) So, in that light, it makes sense that TCMC's surgery suite would get the extra cashola to rock-n-rolla.

Meanwhile, Intern Kimmy and I just sent out the SDs for FCH's surgery and ICU renovations, and it actually kinda exhausted me. It was a normal workweek, no overtime involved, but Bosley had been out of the office for six straight workdays and suddenly had to put his hands on the drawings. It was nothing too big, just some exterior roof system details, but it was just enough to frustrate me. Here's the deal: SD, or schematic design, is usually a pretty thin set of drawings. I do a few plans and exterior elevations, and then the engineers do a narrative or two that explain what's going on in the project and what will need to be done, and then the contractor (if you have one on board) will use those few documents to do some early cost-per-square-foot pricing. Peeps, I'm here to tell you that Kimmy and I put out a 28-page SD set. Seriously, it was ridiculous. The architect from the firm-of-record that will inherit our drawings in a month called me all surprised, but for the opposite reason that I thought. "Pixie," he said almost breathlessly, "I just heard that the engineers aren't doing any drawings...?"

"No," I responded. "SD is usually a couple of plans and exterior elevations, maybe a schematic spec to help the contractor understand what systems and finishes I'm using, and the engineers do the same thing, but with narratives." I saw Kimmy's shocked and slightly-offended face pop up over the cubicle partition in my direction. We made eye contact and I continued. "To be fair, we did the SD plan for this project during the master planning effort for FCH, so these drawings are really ahead of what we usually do."

After I hung up with the architect, Kimmy said, "Pix! He just called me and asked me that very question about the engineers not doing drawings! Did he think I was lying or something?!"

I shook my head. "I don't think he does a lot of hospitals, and maybe SD is different for the kinds of projects he usually does. Go figure."

After all, Akira is using a couple of floor plans from DA as well as the engineers' pricing/scope narratives that we did three weeks ago to take to the Avanta headquarters in California to get SD approval from the bigwigs. If a couple of plans are good enough for healthcare management poobahs, it ought to be good enough for everyone else.

The further adventures of Scooby Doo & Associates

Lawd, y'all, Guy climbed into the car this afternoon fit to bust. He had just gotten off of a long conference call with the two designers from Scooby Doo & Associates, and he had a story to tell.

"So, these guys send me some wall sections along with the enlarged elevations that the wall sections belong to,right?" Guy begins. "First of all, I wish they'd mentioned this, because I'd already started working through the wall sections myself. But anyway, they worked through 'em, drew 'em up, and sent them to me so we could discuss them in our phone conference today."

Note: a wall section is just what it sounds like. It's like cutting a slice through the exterior wall of a building and looking inside, like "Body Worlds" but with a building instead of a person. That way, the contractor can see how tall everything should be and what's inside the wall and how we're keeping water out of it and how to make it stand up and so on. They're typical on EVERY architecture project that involves an exterior wall.

"So," I asked. "How did the call go?"

"Ohh, my God," Guy said, barely able to stifle a laugh. "These guys, they kept talking about how exhausted they were, exhausted from working out--"

"Exhausted from working out a couple of typical wall sections?!" I interrupted.

Guy broke into a full-on guffaw. "Exactly! Exhausted from figuring out the details that we do on a regular basis! Typical wall sections!"

"And they're 'exhausted' from doing this because they've been actually having to think--"

"--yeah! EXACTLY! Having to think! Thiiiiink about how buiiiiiiildings go togeeeeeeetherrrrrr!" Guy finished while slapping the car's dashboard.

I nearly ran over a bicyclist, I was laughing so hard. "So, how were the wall sections?" I finally asked.

"Well," Guy replied, "I give them credit for a good attempt."

"So...they weren't--"

"They weren't even right, not even close in some areas. Whoever drew them, I give them credit for trying, but mostly because it gives me something to start with and correct and I don't have to start from scratch, but they weren't very right."

"Awww," I gushed as if I were talking to my cats. "Shumwun dwew a waww seck-shun! Aw, puddin', dat's sho shweet!"

I mentioned the first SD&A story to Bosley recently, and he told me that his experience with big-name/starchitect firms had been similar for almost his entire 30-year career. Back in the 1980s, he and Design Associates worked with a big-name firm in Chicago as part of a joint venture. He and a colleague went to this Big Firm to do some planning for a hospital, and then when it came time to sketch up some options for the hospital's master planning options, it seemed as if Big Firm's people were stuck. How would they ever get all this drawn up and done? Bosley and his colleague said, "Give us some trace paper and round up some markers, and we'll sketch this up in a couple of hours." The Big Firm employees--and managers and VPs--seemed stunned that anyone could put the mental energy into something, be efficient and effective, and figure. things. out.

"Then," Bosley recounted with a devilish smirk, "we needed to make copies of the sketches to distribute to the hospital's board for a meeting the next morning, and these Big Firm guys were just hemming and hawing, like 'oh, how are we going to get these copies done? there's a lot to do here, and the copy shop is in the other building across town that Big Firm owns, oh no...' so over lunch, we just grabbed the sketches, found another kinda-large architecture firm in town, asked if we could talk to their in-house copy center guy, and we asked him if he'd make all our copies for us for $20, and he said yes."

"That was a lot of cash in the '80s!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, and he took it and did the copies for us," Bosley said. "By the time we got back to Big Firm's office, they were still panicking a bit about getting the copies made, and we just said, 'yeah, we went and got them done.' And they were stunned that you--that anyone--could just..." He waved his hands a bit. "...get things done!"

Evidently, there's less thing-getting-doneing going on in the world these days. My healthcare colleagues and I at Design Associates get stuff done, and we're finding that a lot of other firms--and people--just don't. Contigo Architects, with whom I'm working on Frontier County Hospital, seems like they drag their feet a bit and don't just sit down, think something through, and solve it. Is it that hard to just figure stuff out? I mean, yes there are people with cognitive disorders now and again but seriously, is it that hard to sit down and work stuff out? Holla back, my people--is this what you experience as well?

The agony of renovations (or, one of the reasons for this blog's name) part 2

So it gets better--this week I went with Bosley to an FCH meeting with the engineers and the architect of record for FCH. I may have explained this before, but here it is again: sometimes, two architects will join together as a joint venture or one will hire the other to work on a project. One firm will do the initial design, and the other one will take the design over and finish the construction documents and oversee construction. The first architect is the design architect, and the second is the architect of record. On FCH, we're working with Contigo Architects, whose office is only 45 minutes from FCH (while ours is about 4 hours away), and we have more experience in laying out hospitals than Contigo does. Hence, our roles are what they are.

I finally get to meet the architects I've only known as voices over the phone for four months, and we sit down to bidnazz. Part of the reason that we're meeting is to figure out how to get air into the newly-renovated surgery suite. We thought we could run some new ducts from a new small roof top unit (RTU), but the space between the underside of the structure and the top of the ceiling is too tight. From the floor of the building to the top of the roof deck is about 12 feet, and the structure is a 2.5" deep roof slab on 14" deep structure (cast in place concrete joists 24" o.c., for those of you keeping score at home). Plus, the roof structure is at different heights all over the roof, which is how they used to get a "flat" roof to slope so that you could shed water off of it to roof drains. Meanwhile, the ceiling in an operating room is ideally 10' high, but in order to get lights plus ducts in the ceiling space, we had to lower the OR ceilings to 9'-6". Furthermore, the structural engineer, who was present at the meeting helps us understand that at the lowest points in the roof structure, we would only have 6" between the ceiling and the bottom of structure, even with a 9'-6" ceiling. Really? Let's just send gnomes with fans up there to keep the place cool. Magic fairy dust will give us 25 air changes per hour! Ooh! And unicorns will keep the humidity between 40% and 60%--perfect conditions for doing a total hip replacement!

But that's not even the drinking-bingeworthy news. We had all decided earlier that we needed to create a mechanical penthouse thingy on the roof--this would hide and protect the ducts coming right out of the new mechanical unit, and they would go straight through the roof and into the ORs, no running long expanses of ducts underneath the supersnug structure. So we're all sitting around and working out how to do what and how to make it work and does this enclosure-thingy need to be rated or just insulated and if it's an attic then the IECC says it needs to be insulated to R-30 but ASHRAE says it needs to be R-38 (typical houses are about R-7 to R-13 in most places in the lower 48 states) when suddenly one of the engineers looks at a schematic plan Intern Kimmy and I drew of there the new RTU was going to go and said--

"Um, did you know there's already an RTU there?"

No. No, we did not know that. Do you have drawings that we don't have?

Oh. You do. You have drawings we don't have. Why is that? How come you have an entire set of drawings of a remodel that took place three years ago and we don't? Are we not cool enough to have a copy of said drawings? The most recent drawings we have of this building involve a remodel from 1999. And we have some crappy-ass CAD plans from Alphabet Design, who did that remodeling job in 1999 and who also evidently did the remodeling job from three years ago. And you have those drawings. And we don't. In ther words of Dr. Evil, throw us a frickin' bone here.

As we all look at the drawings showing the existing RTU, it turns out that this unit was installed about a year ago, and it was undersized from the day it went in. Thing is, Alphabet Design's in-house engineers supposedly sized the unit to provide air for two of the three floors of FCH, including the surgery suite, whenever they were going to remodel it. Which is weird, because if you ran the calculations even back then, even Ronnie Milsap could have seen that the unit was going to be too small to provide air for half the hospital, part of which included two 600-square-foot operating rooms that require megahuge amounts of fresh, HEPA-filtered air. So now, we have to figure out if we should try to fit two small units on this already-crowded roof, or if we should remove the pretty-much-new RTU, sell it on Mechanical Subcontractor eBay, and buy a new unit that is truly sized correctly to provide air to the half of the hospital that it's supposed to serve.

Either way, we're fixing a mistake we inherited, which as I understand it has pretty much been our experience with Alphabet Design. They produce crappy CAD drawings that aren't even remotely accurate (both on TCMC and FCH), they didn't even read ADAAG correctly and gave us crappy plans when we were their architect of record on another hospital (with Avanta, no less), and now they've undersized this RTU for this poor li'l hospital out in the boonies. Really, Alphabet Design? Really?

Forget the wine glass; just leave the bottle.

The agony of renovations (or, one of the reasons for this blog's name)

I remembered recently why I hate renovations. Well, hate might be a strong word. I intermittently loathe renovations, especially renovations on really old buildings. Nothing old enough to be on the National Register of Historic Places, the renovation of which would probably make you walk around with a vodka-and-cranberry-juice IV drip, but just really old stuff. I've blogged before about how it's hard to reuse old hospitals and bring them up to today's space and HVAC/electrical standards as well as building, accessibility, and healthcare codes, and I'm revisiting some of those old pains again on my two surgery renovation projects. Pour a fresh glass of cabernet, kids, and gather 'round.

A few weeks ago, Intern Timmy and I went to the site for TCMC and did some as-builting. We brought a print (to 1/8" scale) of the CAD plan for TCMC and measured just about everything, just to make sure our CAD plan was up to date. Some of the existing walls in the building were going to be used for temporary walls that will separate the surgery suite as we remodel it in phases, and we have one option for remodeling that involves expanding the surgery suite outside the existing building and adding on, so we have to make sure that the exterior doors and walls and whatnot really are where the plan says they are. So, Intern Timmy and I bring along a 25' measuring tape (the one 100' tape our office has was checked out) and measured. every. single. wall. and. door. and. thing. inside. and. out.

Or so we thought. When I went back again for a second visit, I made a few more measurements. With those fnial measurements, Timmy was ready to properly build the model in Revit, which is a 3D software that's replacing CAD as the gold standard for drawing and documenting projects. As he built the model, he brought to my attention that our as-builts showed that the building was 10' shorter than the old drawings from 1965 said. "We match architectural," he said, "but not structural." We mused on this, compared the architectural plans to the structural plans, and then I proclaimed that something was amiss and we would just have to tell Howie about it sometime soon when he'd finished everything else in the model. We were damn sure of those as-built measurements, so we know we didn't make a mistake there.

There was an obvious solution to the problem, but Intern Timmy and I hadn't figured it out yet. It wasn't until a few hours before a meeting with the contractor that we a) told Howie the problem and b) realized the obvious solution. We were meeting with the contractor to show them what we had built in the Revit model and ask them about what they need to make the model useful to them. Contractors can use Revit models to help them figure out scheduling as well as pricing--the model can tell you exactly how many square feet of drywall it has in it, how many feet of wall (divided by 16" and you find out how many studs you need to buy), how many yards of concrete, etc. So, Howie's looking at the plans, looking at our 10" bust in dimensions, gets appalled and offended by how we took our as-built dimensions (Timmy told him that someone had the 100' tape checked out, but it was cold comfort to him), and by the time he suggested the obvious solution, he was beside himself with annoyance that approached anger and was inconsolable.

He said, "Did you check your math when you added up all these dimensions along the outside wall?"

Wow, um...no. No, we didn't. And Intern Timmy and I shared a glance that was something between why didn't we think of that? and do you have a sharp object I can stick in my eye right now?

So he made us take almost an hour to check our math on the dimensions, and then he returned to check our math once again with us (and at this point, Timmy and I were annoyed beyond belief, thinking "Let it go, already.") and lo and behold, we were only 1.25" off from the drawings, which is pretty good for as-builting in the field. We then had to locate a line of columns in the surgery suite (which of course, when located properly, ended up right in every main hall we had in the frickin' suite) and then save the Revit files onto a jump drive to take to the contractor's office.

By the time we got to their office, Howie had calmed down, and the meeting went well. He appears to have gotten over it, but for a while there we thought we were going to have to clean out our desks. And Timmy and I realized that we still need to go confirm some more dimensions, because we're getting yet another dimension bust at one of the walls that we're going to use to separate the two construction phases, and we really need to know where that wall is. And that news reminded me of why renovations make me drink. Heavily.

Some good news for the 4th

We got word this week that we got the job we interviewed for on Thursday. Hooray! It's another surgery renovation, like what I'm doing for FCH, so it's not unfamiliar territory. However, every hospital is different--they all have different volumes of different types of procedures and different scheduling issues and different personalities that will be working in the departments, etc. So we'll start meeting and designing with them very soon--they're already moving forward with contracts and the project schedule.

This is damn fine news indeed, especially for me. FCH will likely get to the point where there's not enough work for both Intern Kimmy and me, and I'll need to find other things to do while she makes stuff happen on that project. I'll need to be available for Intern Kimmy, and I'll have to do things on it as well, but sometimes I'll need to back off and let her get stuff done or have her do some redlines from me. And let's not forget the kickoff meeting for the outpatient center with Sven at the end of July; that should keep me busy as well.

So, not that anyone's reading this, but there's some good news for everyone's holiday weekend. Rock on!

If you can't have me, you don't want nobody bay-beh...

A general rule of the workplace (or the market) is that when you're good, you're in demand.  Over the past few weeks that I've been working on the FCH Master Plan, I've been having to wrap up a couple of small projects that I started working on before I got on FCH.  Thing is, I've been underemployed for so long that folks have gotten accustomed to me being available to sketch something up/make a phone call to the state health department/do a code study for them.  So, even though I'm heavily and gainfully employed on FCH, I'm still being bombarded with requests from Sven, Prudence, and Howie.  Last week when I sat down to review some plans with Bosley, I described my predicament to him.  I was afraid to say "no" to any request because I wanted to be able to have something to work on while he was gone to Frontier County here and there, but I wanted to do FCH justice.  Each interruption may take anywhere from five minutes to six hours, but regardless of length it keeps pulling me away from what I was doing on the master plan, and I don't want to short Bosley's project.

"There's enough to do on Frontier County to keep you busy even when I'm gone, at this point," Bosley said.  "I need you completely on this.  If anyone asks you to do anything, tell them to come to me."

"Thank you," I sighed.  It was good to know Bosley had my back.

I've been helping Howie with a little outbuilding project we were doing for Wheatlands for free.  We revamped an earlier-issued PR of a small outdoor enclosure for the hospital to be smaller and unheated.  I was hoping I had wrapped up this work for him last week, so I emailed him the final drawings for it as a PDF and told him they were ready to go.  I had also been helping him and Prudence do some code reasearch on a small pharmacy that was a part of a tenant finish project she was doing.  I had called the state health department regarding a technical question on the pharmacy, and they called me back just this morning to tell me I'd been given a wrong number, and here's the right number and guy to call.  Fine.  

But I know that a phone call to the state isn't "just a phone call," especially when Howie's involved.  When the state finally calls me back, it's about a ten-minute phone call.  It's another five to fifteen minutes to write out a clear and complete email describing what I've found out from the state health guy or gal.  Then Howie reads the email and asks me a bunch more questions for five to ten minutes, then I gotta call the state health guy or gal back, and whenever they call me back it's another ten minutes, then another five- to ten-minute email or conversation....  You get the picture.

So this morning, Howie emails me that he looked at the PDFs and has these four changes.  I should add that he still wants me to continue chasing the code question for Prudence, and on top of these two tasks he sent Gregg and his team to me to help them with a state code question because for whatever reason I have a good relationship with the state health folks and they call me back whenever I call them.  So now I'm making phone calls for two other people and doing redlines on a project we're not getting paid for...and Howie wants me to interrupt a project with a tight deadline to do these things.

Mmhmm.

So I emailed Howie back to relate the situation to him and asked him to please make sure all these extra-project activities are good with Bosley.  Y'all, Howie actually pushed back: "So, I should ask him about everything but Wheatlands?  But, you're just making a few phone calls!  Do you need more help on Frontier County?"  I pushed back on his pushback: "You should ask him about all of it--we're on a really tight deadline between now and Monday.  It's that the phonecalls take longer than one would think, and I have to keep getting distracted by them and can't concentrate on the project I'm supposed to be working on.  Frontier County is just the right size for Intern Kimmy and me--extra help wouldn't really help."  For some reason my brain had frozen up and I couldn't find the right words that I think Howie needed to hear: We're working on a master plan, and I'm doing space planning--it's all in my head and extra help wouldn't actually help.  But most of all, I think I was just getting frustrated and perhaps even offended that Howie evidently simply could not accept my own assessment and assertion of my abilities over a seven-day span.  I cannot help you properly and help my project properly in the next week.

As I searched for the words to fend Howie off, I realized there was a dark, shadowy figure in my peripheral vision.  I turned: Jesus, Mary, and Calatrava, it was Bosley.  I turned to Bosely and attempted to explain the situation: "Some teams want me to call the health department on some technical questions because I'm one of the few people they'll call back.  However, I don't want Frontier County to suffer."

Bosley made a polite facial expression of understanding.  I honestly think what he understood was that I was trying to push back against Howie, and Howie can be really pushy.  I don't know if he overheard the conversation starting and decided to step in and stop it or if he just happened to be walking by; either way, it was great timing.  As Howie began to ask Bosley if the Frontier County project needed help, Bosley raised one finger and cut him off: "She needs to be left alone until Tuesday morning so she can keep her head in the project."

Howie started to ask again, and Bosley cut him off yet again, gesturing to me as he spoke.  "Pixie needs to be left to work on the master plan--she's doing space planning and all the work is in her head.  Everytime she gets pulled away by a phone call or a code study, she can't keep her head focused on the master plan and get things done."

Howie responded with a tinge of resignation.  "So the answer is no, no extra help would allow her to work on this."

"No."  Bosley's voice was brilliantly final.

He then walked around to Howie's desk, and I could just overhear him explaining to Howie how he loaned me to Prudence for two days while he was gone to Frontier County, and that was all he could afford for me--if she didn't use me those two days while he was gone, then she lost her window.  He loaned me to Sven for one day and if Sven didn't use me on that day, then too bad so sad.  I smiled and turned up my headphones and started jamming as I worked out FCH's emergency department remodel.  I knew whatever Bosley was saying, even if it included anything about me having Shiny Object System (which I do have occasionally), it was ultimately in my defense and giving me the room I needed to get. stuff. done.