Lost and Wearied

This afternoon I ran out of energy. I just had no appetite to engage in the seemingly never ending organisational scope issues and wrangles around the programme. There are two models that come to mind and seem to offer an insight into what to do to engage in this bloody chaos.
One is Mogadishu. A weak centre, obviously incapable of imposing any order on the fiefdoms, each of which is in a continual state of bloody turmoil.
The other is Tarkovsky's Stalker who finds the path across the Zone by throwing bolts tied with ribbon across the meadow and proceeding to where they fall, one at a time. An approach which I am tempted to adopt.
What is a boy to do? Perhaps tomorrow after a good sleep I'll be up for it. But first, shirt on. I do believe there's a gathering at some Californian Bistro. T'would be a shame to miss it. Pip pip!